Verdilith?”
He nodded once, abruptly. “Continue,” he prompted, pushing the stone toward Jo. She picked it up and again held it to the candlelight. After a moment or two, the image of the cavern came into focus.
Inside the tiny scene, the dragon lifted his head. He began looking about, his tongue flickering between his teeth. It was almost as if the creature sensed he was being watched. Johauna shivered but this time did not drop the stone. Flinn sucked in his breath.
The dragon moved his head sharply back and forth. He rolled off his pile of coins and began lumbering about the cavern. His golden eyes whirled feverishly about, and his tongue continued to test the air.
“Flinn!” came a quiet, powerful rumble from within the stone. All three felt a chill cross their bones. The call had come from the dragon.
The crystal shattered. Jo jumped as the pieces of the stone dropped to the table. Flinn and Dayin sat down in silence. “That dragon knew we were watching it!” Jo cried. Flinn nodded. “It would seem so.”
Johauna frowned. “I understand how your former wife heard us, because you called out to her, but we didn’t say anything to Verdilith. He couldn’t have heard us after I dropped the stone. Could he?”
“He… may have. That wyrm has some… extraordinary perceptions. I rather wish we had tried to call his name, but we might have courted disaster doing that,” Flinn finished.
Jo looked at Dayin. “Do you remember anything else about these stones?”
The boy’s blue eyes looked off into space while he chewed a fingernail. His eyes narrowed. Finally he said, “Sorry, I don’t remember.”
Jo turned to Flinn. “What about the mage in Bywater you mentioned? Can we bring the stones to him and find out what they’re good for? Or crazy Karleah?”
“Esald?” Flinn named the village wizard, then shook his head. “He’s quite a run-of-the-mill, garden-variety mage. Doesn’t deal in anything too exotic-or dangerous. No, Karleah’s the only person I’d trust with these.”
“Where is she?” asked Jo.
“She lives near the Castle of the Three Suns, though some distance north. A little northeast, if I remember correctly. She’d know about the crystals, plus no one would believe her if she mentioned I had them. She’s got quite a reputation for eccentricity,” Flinn answered.
“Should we take these stones to her, Flinn?” Jo asked. Flinn frowned. “Probably. I’m leery about testing them again when we don’t really understand how to use them. Obviously, they could prove extremely useful, and I’d rather not waste any more experimenting.” Flinn frowned again. “I think we will visit Karleah, and I think we’d better do it before we get to the castle.”
“Why?” Jo and Dayin asked simultaneously.
“If the stones can be made to show past events, then that will be all the proof I need to present to the council,” Flinn replied. Besides, he added privately, I may be able to check on a certain Sir Brisbois with Karleah’s help. We’ll see if he’s been haunting my woods on horseback. Flinn added, “I think I could have conversed with Yvaughan if the stone hadn’t burst. As to the ones made from your blood, Jo, I think they might be longer lasting and perhaps give a better image.”
Jo looked at Dayin, as if seeking some answer in the boy’s serene gaze. “Why do you suppose we saw those two images? I mean, why didn’t you see Bywater, and why didn’t I see Specularum?”
Flinn shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“I do,” Dayin piped. “I remember that much now. Dada said you had to concentrate on what you wanted to see or who you wanted to contact.”
Johauna looked at Flinn closely. “Were you thinking of your former wife before, Flinn?”
“Actually, no. But I was daydreaming about the conservatory at the castle-it’s quite a sight. How about you? Were you thinking of Verdilith?” Flinn queried.
Frowning, Jo tried to remember exactly what she had been thinking. “No, no, I don’t think so, not consciously anyway. But… I was scared for some reason, and I was thinking about danger and the people in Bywater. It was all very jumbled.”
Coincidence? Flinn wondered. Danger for the town, or danger for us? What is that wyrm up to, anyway? He sighed heavily and said, “Well, whatever the case, next time we try the stones, we concentrate on a subject. We’ll do that with Karleah’s help. As to Verdilith, when we get to the Castle of the Three Suns, we’ll find out what plans they have for killing the dragon. They should have something in the works for dealing with Verdilith.”
“What happens if your petition goes as planned?” Jo asked.
The warrior smiled. “Then we join the others in the hunt for a great green.” His eyebrows rose in anticipation.
Five days later, Jo and Dayin carried large, willow-handled baskets down the path to the stream. Their eyes searched the underbrush for redberries. The tart, juicy clusters of fruit kept well all through winter and only fell from the bush come spring. It was one of the few foods that could be harvested in wintertime, and Flinn had suggested they gather the berries in preparation for leaving. They had left Flinn exercising Ariac in the corral. The warrior thought Ariac was coming along well and should be ready again for travel in another day or two.
After a short walk, Jo and Dayin discovered a large break of redberry bushes. Picking the berries was easy because they grew in thick clusters that readily broke from the branches. Redberries liked lowlands, however, which meant that the terrain surrounding the bushes was rough and difficult to traverse. Jo resorted to using her blink dog’s tail to reach some of the more inaccessible bushes, even crossing the stream via the tail. She told Dayin to pick the berries on the outskirts of the marshy area that bordered the stream.
Jo’s thoughts turned inward. She was worried about Flinn. She applauded his desire to confront the council and seek reinstatement as a knight, but she also knew that he was not the man he had been seven years ago. He had become a recluse, a man unused to the ways of men and women. She wondered if he would regret losing his solitude once he became a knight again. Jo smiled. She had absolutely no doubt that the council would reinstate Flinn. None whatsoever.
Jo looked up, seeking the boy. “Are you finished, Dayin?” she called. “My basket’s full.”
“Mine, too, Jo!” the boy answered.
Jo used her tail to blink back across the stream and handed Dayin her basket. She had prudently thought to conserve trips, bringing along the buckets and the ash yoke to gather water. Jo decided against using the tail to blink to the center of the stream; she had used it several times this morning, and she felt the familiar fatigue she always did when she overworked the magic. She filled the buckets with water as quickly as she could, then hooked them to the yoke and settled it on her shoulders.
“Can you carry both baskets, Dayin?” she asked. At his nod, she gestured for him to start up the steep hill.
The pair made the return trip slowly, for the path was icy in some spots and filled with snow in others. They kept their eyes on the trail, trying to find the best footholds. Johauna grunted under her load, but she was unwilling to leave a bucket and have to return for it. Dayin, meanwhile, was struggling with the two large baskets of berries. They were breathing hard and making so much noise that they didn’t hear the sounds coming from the encampment until they crested the hill.
They were unprepared for the sight that met their eyes: the cabin was in blazes. Before they could even take in the devastation of their home, they saw Flinn being strangled by a knight clad in armor and a dark blue tunic. Flinn gasped for air, his face turning purple as he tried to pull the mailed grip from his throat.
Flinn had breathed a sigh of relief when Jo and the boy left to pick redberries. He had found himself tongue- tied around the two of them, growing more taciturn than even his usual wont. But Johauna, too, had been strangely silent the past few days. Dayin, surprisingly, had not. He had talked about the nearly two years he had spent alone in the woods, telling of his animal friends, his daily forages for food, and his many brushes with death.
But now the talkative child was gone, and Jo with him. Flinn sighed again, planting his feet in the center of the corral and leaning back upon the lunge rein. At the other end of the rein, Ariac trotted, the scars on his chest
