On the same day every year, the Mistress of Horses received the gift of a pot of honey. However, she never knew the giver and so never tasted its sweetness.
—COLLECTED FOLKTALES
Jack’s arms were wrapped around something warm and soft. He opened his eyes; any hint of drowsiness fled as a spark tickled behind his ribs. Jasminda lay curled on her side, her back pressed against his chest. Her head was tucked just under his chin, and his heart sped as he watched the rise and fall of her gentle breaths.
After their discussion of the Queen the night before, the elders had insisted it was time to sleep. Jack had no idea how long it had been since they’d left Jasminda’s farm, but even healed, his weary body was ready to shut down.
Jasminda hadn’t wanted to stay with the others, and Rozyl’s hostility had led Jack to agree. So they’d bunked in a smaller cavern a few hundred paces away.
Without a fire, this chamber was quite a bit cooler. They’d curled up on the ground next to each other, using her lumpy sack as a pillow.
Jack didn’t want to wake Jasminda by moving too quickly. He brushed her hair back, letting his fingers get caught in its tangled softness. Her scent was enticing, soothing, and he lay for a moment breathing it in. Once again, thoughts inappropriate to their current situation stole into his mind. The curve of her buttocks grazed his groin, and he inched backward so as not to scandalize her with his growing erection.
He owed her his life, there could be no doubt of that. So perhaps these feelings that had sprung up inside him could be traced there. All he knew was that he’d slept better on this hard, cold ground with her in his arms than on the most luxurious mattress in Rosira.
Light footsteps echoed outside the cave entrance. Jack removed an arm from around Jasminda and palmed the pistol he’d left within easy reach, keeping it down by his side. Though he had trusted Darvyn, he could not be completely certain that these enemies of his enemy were, in fact, his friends. They could prove to be great allies in the fight against the True Father, but they held secrets. There must be more to their reason for braving this journey than they’d shared.
Lantern light brightened the entrance as a curly head appeared—a head much lower than he’d expected. Osar stood gripping the lantern shakily. Jack released his weapon. The boy’s huge eyes glittered, and he beckoned Jack forward with one hand.
“Jasminda.” He shook her gently. “We have a visitor.” He nodded in the child’s direction. Jasminda sat up, yawning.
Osar motioned again for them to follow before disappearing down the hall. They gathered what was left of their things and joined the others in the larger cave. The fire had been put out, lanterns had been lit, and most were packed and ready to go. The armed Keepers and elders stood in the center; Gerda’s quiet tones carried over Rozyl’s hard voice and wild gesticulations. But all grew quiet once he and Jasminda arrived.
“Sit, sit,” Turwig enjoined. “Have something to eat.” He rooted around the pouch at his side and passed them a sparing amount of jerky and dried berries.
“Thank you,” Jack said, realizing his own hunger. How long had it been since he’d eaten? He must have lost the basket with their food in the avalanche. He would even have settled for Jasminda’s bitter herb mash, but though the Lagrimari food was not tasty, it was far more filling than he’d expected.
Jack inhaled the simple breakfast. He looked up to find that Turwig carried another, smaller pouch, this one cradled in his palm like it was precious.
Jasminda, who’d been wrestling with a tough bit of jerky, froze. Her gaze narrowed on the old man’s hand. Gerda appeared next to them, leaning in intently. She made Jack a bit uneasy; her gaze seemed to peer directly into the soul.
“Feel that, do you?” Gerda asked Jasminda. “I suspected you might.”
“I don’t trust her,” Rozyl announced from the corner. “Who knows where her loyalties lie? I think this is a mistake.”
“Hush,” Gerda replied, still staring at Jasminda. Jack looked to her as well; she was obviously uncomfortable, though she’d been somewhat squirmy since they entered the caves. But now she visibly shook and leaned back as Turwig held the pouch out to her. With obvious reverence for the little bundle, he reached for Jasminda’s hand and placed it in her grasp.
She gave a soft cry and jumped. “What is this?”
Jack was on alert, hovering over her, wanting to render aid. Gerda halted him with a hand on his arm.
“Open it,” Turwig said.
Jasminda shook her head. Her hand trembled. “I can barely stand to hold it. What’s in it?”
“Jasminda, get rid of it,” Jack said, not liking her reaction. He went to grab it from her, but she shifted out of reach. Gerda’s hand tightened on his arm, displaying impressive strength. He didn’t want to hurt the old woman, but if that thing was dangerous, he needed to protect Jasminda. That was, if she would accept his aid. She seemed conflicted.
“Open it,” Gerda repeated gently.
A hush fell upon the cave. Jack held his breath as Jasminda slowly pulled the tie on the pouch, revealing its contents.
Nestled in the folds of fabric was a deep red stone—the same color as the cornerstone, but small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. It was multifaceted, but smooth, like an oddly shaped gemstone.
Jasminda held it up to her face, inspecting it. Jack was entranced by the stone as well. A surge of longing shot through him. He wanted to touch it, feel its smoothness beneath his skin. But he could not move.
Lyngar brought one of the lamps closer to illuminate the stone better. Embedded within were dark, swirling lines. Was this the fossil of an insect like the ones he’d been intrigued by as a boy? But the curves of the shape trapped inside were no skeleton. Jack recognized the familiar symbol embedded beneath the surface.
“The sigil of the Queen,” he whispered.
Jasminda raised her free hand until it hovered over the bloodred stone. She met Jack’s eyes—hers sparked with anticipation and fear.
He wanted to tell her not to touch it, but the longing was so strong within himself that he couldn’t speak the words. His breath caught in his chest when he tried to voice the warning.
Jasminda’s finger traced the surface of the stone. Her eyes closed and long, dark lashes brushed her cheeks. Then, as if she’d instantly fallen asleep, her face slackened, and her whole body pitched backward to tumble to the ground.