Everyone else believed Argent might yet be alive. Jayveh was fierce in her belief that her husband was simply Tam’s captive. Amryn wished she could tell her friend the truth. False hope was such a painful thing.
Carver leaned forward, drawing her back to the present moment. “Whatarethe bloodstones?” he asked Felinus again.
“Weapons,” the older man said. “Powerful, unnatural weapons that some empaths learned to harness. The lore is hazy, but it’s said the stones were created by unholy means, and that they grant extraordinary power to the empath who wields them. Enough power that an empath might be able to kill hundreds in an instant, or so the rumors say.” His eyes slid to Amryn. “If there is one thing I know, it’s that the bloodstones are inherently evil. You must not use it again.”
A shiver tracked down her spine. In truth, she had no desire to use the bloodstone again. Even tucked away, she could feel the hum of its presence in the otherroom. A slow pulse. Almost like a heartbeat. She remembered the power that had flooded her when she’d clung to the glowing amulet last night. The insidious voice in her mind that whispered she could do anything.Everything. It had been the same voice that had infiltrated her mind, pushing back her own thoughts to thunder:AWAKE.
Just the memory of that word—thatvoice—made her shudder.
She didn’t know what she’d awoken in the bloodstone, but she knew Felinus was right. It was intrinsically evil, and unspeakably dangerous.
“I won’t use it again,” she assured Felinus.
She immediately felt Carver’s swell of relief. He’d already secured her promise not to use the bloodstone again, but he clearly appreciated hearing her make the same promise to Felinus.
She squeezed his hand in silent reassurance, and she felt a thrill when he returned the gesture.
“Good,” Felinus said. “But we must do more than ignore the bloodstone. We must ensure it can never be used again, by anyone. We must destroy it.”
“How?” Carver asked.
Felinus’s narrow shoulders slumped. “Unfortunately, I don’t know.”
Carver’s eyebrows pulled together. “That’s not exactly helpful, Cleric.”
“I’m well aware, General.”
“Can’t we just bury it somewhere?” Carver asked. “Or throw it in the ocean?”
“No. Hiding it won’t be effective. As it called to Amryn, it will surely call to other empaths.”
Sudden insight struck, and Amryn straightened. “You think someone hid the bloodstone in that cave on Zawri.”
“Yes. And that only reiterates my point. Attempting to hide the bloodstone should be our last resort, because anything hidden—no matter how well—can be found.” Lines deepened across his brow. “I need to study the bloodstones. The answer we need could be hiding somewhere in Esperance’s library.”
“Take all the time you want,” Carver said. “We’ll leave the bloodstone with you.”
Amryn’s stomach pitched. At the same moment, she felt the bloodstone in the bedroom flare with rage. The dark and immediate reaction made all the fine hairs on her body lift.
“I’m afraid that would be a terrible idea,” Felinus said, unaware of the bloodstone’s anger—or Amryn’s own alarming reaction to the thought of leaving the amulet behind.
“Why?” Carver demanded.
“Because knights are coming to Esperance. They’ll be searching the temple for anything unnatural. The bloodstone is a weapon they must not find.”
“But the bloodstone amplifies the power of an empath,” Carver pointed out. “It would be useless to a knight.”
“A weapon that dangerous is never truly useless.” Felinus hesitated, then said slowly, “And it would not be useless to them, because the knights don’t kill every empath they find.”
Amryn froze.
Beside her, Carver went rigid. “Are you saying the knights capture empaths? That they imprison them?”
Felinus’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Yes.”
Carver’s grip on Amryn’s hand tightened. She felt his low burning fury as he asked, “For what purpose?”
The cleric met Carver’s stare, unblinking. But Amryn felt his swell of shame. She supposed it was easier for him to address Carver, rather than her, as he said, “You can guess the reason.”
