“Thank you, Vetus.” Mal uttered those words with meaning. “This Magic is ancient magic. My family’s magic. Thank you.”
She kicked her feet and smiled. “Jema will wrap it safely for you, won’t you Jema.” The fragile Elf appeared at Vetus’ side. “I wrote you a card as well. Jema place it inside.”
Jema bowed and took the goblet from Mal. She shuffled away silently.
“I don’t know how to repay this kindness,” said Mal.
Vetus’ threw her stubby hand in the air. “My darling boy, never you worry about that.”
Mal smiled at her.
“Now,” said Vetus, rubbing her hands together. “I’d like to show you my two most prized possessions after that Goblet. I did pay a pretty price for it, you know!” She giggled. “But these spoke to me in a way Magic never has when I found them for sale. I do have an eye for antiquities, you know, dear.”
Vetus continued to ramble, and she pulled a red box from the table next to her and set it in her lap. She pulled off the lid and a soft glow emitted from the box.
Maeve stood to her full height. Something from that box taunted her, caused something in her leg to burn with ice. Magic shot down her arm, ready to attack.
“Go on,” said Vetus encouragingly.
Mal scooped up the silver dagger with sensually delicate fingers, balancing it perfectly.
Vetus’ eyes were locked on Mal’s face, watching his expression.
“A dagger,” murmured Mal, examining the engraving upon the hilt. “With a serpent forged into the steel.”
His eyes slid to Maeve. Her mouth hung open as he held the Dread Dagger.
“Centuries old, I am told. I bought it from a dealer in Argentina years ago.”
Mal looked up at Vetus.
The old woman didn’t know what it was. She had no idea she had just presented them with another ancient magical item of the Dread Trove.
Mal took the dagger in his hand.
Vetus nearly fainted at his awe. “The ruins say ‘forever wounded’ I am told. The dagger’s inflictions cannot be healed with Magic. They must heal naturally if not fatal.”
Jema returned with the Goblet wrapped in a bright pink shiny bag with yellow tissue paper flowing from the top.
Vetus instructed Jema to hand her the other box that sat next to her. Vetus’ decorated fingers gripped the small jewelry box and held it close to her chest.
“This is the one your boss sold me over twenty years ago,” said Vetus quietly. “I daresay he’d love to get it back when I’m dead and gone.”
Maeve watched as her chubby fingers managed to turn the clasp and flip open the box.
The room stilled. Magic filled the air with a soft, pulsing song. Like a burning heartbeat. Maeve stepped closer to see inside the jewelry box. It was filled with bright emerald green velvet, and on it lay a golden locket.
The Dread Locket. Mal’s mother’s locket.
Mal did not wait for her permission to touch this time. He took the locket, holding it in the light and staring at it.
Maeve’s heart skipped multiple beats.
Golden vines wrapped the oval shaped frame. A small marking etched on the front. An ancient and holy mark of power.
They had seen it before. A symbol of divine magic, translated into text books. It wasn’t always the same. It was like a scar. Just a reminder of the Magic there.
Vexkari had been on the tree in Israel where the crown was. It was on the Dread ring on her finger. She had seen it on Reeve too, tattooed up his neck and on his jewelry.
