Page 2 of Spark of Sorcery
I let the force pull me. At first, it’s weak, my feet moving slowly, but then the force grows stronger and stronger, pulling me along more quickly until I’m running through the forest again, this time leaping over scrubs, and ducking under branches.
I’m even more lost. This isn’t a part of the forest I know, one I’ve ever seen. It’s wetter here and greener, vinesspinning up the trees and moss covering the stones and sticks on the forest floor. The dying light glows an emerald-green and when I lift my hand to my face, even my skin is tinged with it. The air is heavy, too, with moisture, the chill less permeating in this carpet of lush greenery and sweat trickles down my spine.
Then I see it – a small pond beneath the trees. The light has almost gone now and the waters are black like tar. It’s impossible to see how deep it sits, but across its surface rest bright white lily pads – the kind of which I’ve not seen before.
The force beckons me onward.
“Uh uh,” I say out loud. “I’m not wading into that.”
My imagination is running wild. Perhaps I have gone mad? Chasing feelings through the forest with dusk falling. But I’m not mad enough to plunge into unknown waters. I’d freeze to death. Or perhaps I’d be pulled down to my grave, drowned without anyone ever knowing.
No, thank you.
The force doesn’t take no for an answer, it continues to pull. I dig my heels into the mud and cling to an overhead branch to stop myself from being dragged forward.
But then, just as quickly as it started, it stops. I stumble backward into the undergrowth. When I pick myself up, the pond glows a deep orange in front of me. It lasts but for a fraction of a second before it plunges into darkness again. However, it’s long enough for me to have seen what lies on its bottom.
A small black stone, the size of a large goose egg.
I don’t know how, but I know it is that egg that has pulled me here.
But why? What does it want me to do?
Rolling up my sleeves, I kneel down by the side of thepond, the wet and the mud penetrating through my stockings, and lean over the water. The depths are too dark for me to make the egg out now, but I guess where it was and plunge my arms down into the water. It’s icy and I gasp, the cold permeating right the way up into my chest.
I swim my hands through the water, searching for the egg beneath the surface. Finally, when I think I can no longer bear the cold water any longer, the back of my left fingers hit something hard and solid. I feel at it with my fingers and my palms.
The egg.
Gripping it carefully, I pull at it. The mud has sucked it tight, but with more effort, I yank it free and it comes bobbing up towards the surface, floating right in front of me. It is blacker than the water, so black it has no marking or coloring at all.
I cradle it carefully and bring it out onto dry land, admiring the smooth polish of its surface. It’s warm to touch, like freshly baked bread, and it smells like the forest and the pond.
It’s beautiful. A giant precious jewel.
I could take it to old Jeb in the market. They say he’ll buy just about anything hidden under the table. I’m sure this would fetch a fair few pennies – perhaps enough to feed us for weeks, even months.
But even as I think it, the stone warm and smooth between my palms, I know I won’t.
The stone asked me to find it and I will keep it safe.
Chapter One
Beaufort
“You’re handling this all wrong,” Thorne growls at my retreating back.
I pause and spin around. He stands at the bottom of Briony’s tower, straight-backed, chin raised, like a soldier lining up for inspection.
Dray hovers in the space between us, eyes flicking from me to Thorne and back again.
“What am I handling incorrectly, Brother?” I snap.
“The girl,” he says.
I almost laugh out loud. Is he serious? He’s hardly spoken two words to her. Has refused to spend any time with her. And now he’s going to lecture me on ‘handling’ her correctly?
“Oh yeah,” I say. “And how exactly should I be ‘handling’ her?”
