Page 94 of A Rogue in Twilight
“Not fairy treasure. New-minted coin that smugglers sometimes carry. What in thunderation is that?” He peered into the crevice. “Where is the candle we had before?”
“We burned it through, husband,” she said with a laugh.
“Lord, we did. There’s an oil lamp tucked on that ledge over there. Light that, if you will, love.” She hastened to do that, returning with the glowing lantern, holding the light high as James moved more rocks.
“Hold the lamp just there.” He crouched on his knees to peer into the opening, which was wider than he expected. Though not high, it was accessible on all fours.
Shining the light ahead of him, he moved into the gap, inching through the rocky threshold. Then, as if the earth gave way beneath him, he nearly fell into blackness down a steep slope even as he managed to keep hold of the lantern.
Elspeth came through behind him, then gasped as she too tumbled downward. Sliding over rough, toothy stone, James reached a level surface and came to his feet. As Elspeth fell against him, he steadied her, holding the lantern high.
“What is this place?” she asked low, her voice echoing.
“A pocket cave. Larger than I thought.” She rose beside him, brushing stone dust from her skirts. “My God,” he said. “Look at that.”
The walls were covered in prisms and points of sparkling color. All around, studded in the curving walls and ceiling, crystals and gems glittered in the lamplight like rainbows and stars.
James walked carefully to one wall to run his hand along its glimmering curvature, sharp with crystal points. Taking the lantern from him, Elspeth held it high to look around with him.
“So many stones, so many colors,” she breathed. “Incredible.”
“Clear crystal, rose quartz—this yellow is citrine,” he said in a hushed voice as he ran his hand over the walls. “Blue sodalite, red jasper—over here, green aventurine.” A tiny crystal rod snapped off in his hand, whitish crystal. He handed to her. “And a beautiful cluster of amethyst crystals.”
With an easy snap, a purple wand came away in his hand. That, too, he gave her.
“All these in one place?” she asked. “How can that be?”
“They are various forms of crystals created in bubbles in the earth, growing in the rock bed over eons. Here is beryl…aquamarine…” He named them as he found them, a range of colors and shapes gleaming and sparkling in the lantern light. “There could be emeralds, rubies, sapphires, veins of gold here too, if it were to be mined.”
“But it is too beautiful to mine it or disturb it.”
“I agree, though it should be examined for science. Just astonishing to find so many in such profusion, though theoretically it is possible.” He moved along. “Watch the sharp points. The break off easily. We should not break or crush them if we can avoid it.”
“They are scattered on the floor already broken away,” she said, bending to pluck up more pretty stones. “It is like a jewel box.”
“The whole cave gleams like a royal ransom.”
“Like a treasure chest,” she said. “James, could this be—”
“It could indeed. Perhaps it was never a treasure chest that was lost, but a chamber, a pocket cave filled with natural gems.”
“Grandda said there is a portal to the Otherworld somewhere in these mountains, so if that is true, this would not be lost to them. I do not understand.”
“This can be explained without fairies, love. It is an exciting geological discovery. And we might find some perfect gems for your wedding ring.” He opened his hand to show her a few gleaming stones—amethyst, aquamarine, rose quartz.
She gasped at their delicate beauty, then looked up. “But this place was hidden deliberately so that no one could find it. I happened to see the rocks there, stacked like a cairn, hiding the entrance.”
He frowned as something occurred to him. He walked up the ramp a little way to peer at the stack of rocks they had removed. Then he returned, holding one of the smaller rocks that had been shifted. “Iron,” he said, holding it out. “A MacArthur ancestor of yours stole the treasure and hid it away, is it so?”
Elspeth nodded. “According to the legend, the Fey have been angry ever since. But it must have been here all along, under their very noses.”
“Iron and iron ore were mixed in that cairn. I read something about it in my grandmother’s manuscript.” He hefted the rock thoughtfully. “Perhaps that MacArthur ancestor of yours was very deliberate indeed, long ago.”
“Oh!” She stared up at him. “Fairies cannot cross over cold iron!”
“So they say. Iron in its natural form, or cold-forged iron, not exposed to heat, are thought to block the power of the Fey. This chunk is natural cold iron.” He hefted it.
“Then they would not be able to come in here,” she said.
