“The demons must have done something to it,” she said. “It was just a necklace when I was wearing it.”
Straightening, Azh stepped back, nodding toward the medallion. “You try.”
Wynn snorted. “Sure, have the fragile human touch the thing that you’re afraid of.”
“First, if you were ever human, that time has long past,” Azh said dryly. “And second, I’d never associate the word fragile with you. You have the fierce spirit of a dragon.” He returned his attention to the medallion. “I don’t think it tried to hurt me. It was more a warning it didn’t want to be touched. If you owned it in the past, I think it’s possible it might recognize you.”
His words made sense. Dammit.
She bent down, cautiously reaching toward the necklace. The last thing she wanted was to accidentally absorb another mysterious magic. On the other hand, there had to be a reason that Axton had kept the medallion for two centuries.
“I don’t feel anything threatening.”
She gathered her courage and plucked the medallion off the floor. The metal felt cool against her skin, the pulse of power barely noticeable. It was more a gentle welcome than a punishment.
“It’s like the power recognizes you,” Azh murmured.
Wynn studied the faint etchings on the medallion, a memory stirring in the back of her mind. There was pain. A screaming pain that enveloped her like a tidal wave. Then there was...nothing. A blessed darkness that wrapped her in peace.
She released a shuddering breath. Was the memory hers? Or the medallion?
“What power?” she muttered. “And what does it recognize?”
“Two questions that we need to answer.” Azh used the tip of his boot to shove aside the rubble that had been on top of the necklace. “The destruction of this shop started where the medallion was lying and spread from there.”
With a frown, Wynn stepped back. The floor where the medallion had been lying was untouched by fire, but everything around it was charred beyond recognition. She held the necklace by the silver chain, allowing the medallion to twirl in the muted light.
“You think this has something to do with the corruption?”
“There’s a reason you were having nightmares about this particular shop. The medallion is the most obvious link to you.”
“Maybe,” she conceded. “But it’s not much help. I don’t know how I got it or what it does.”
He shrugged. “Then let’s go back to the beginning.”
Wynn felt a stab of irritation. After a year of scouring her brain for anything that might explain her strange nightmares, she didn’t want to waste time going over it again.
“I’ve told you everything I can remember.”
“No, I meant let’s physically go to the place you first woke up.”
“Why?”
Azh arched a brow and Wynn abruptly realized she was sounding like a petulant child. Probably because she was tired, hungry, and frustrated that every time she thought they might get answers it led to a dead end. None of that was Azh’s fault.
“Okay,” she grudgingly agreed. “It’s possible there’s a reason I was dumped in that spot.”
She tucked the necklace in her coat pocket, carefully retracing her steps out of the ruined pawnshop. She took a moment to wonder what happenedto Axton and his clan, hoping they’d managed to escape. Sure, they were immoral opportunists, but they didn’t deserve to be slaughtered because of her.
Making a mental note to see if she could track them down once she’d figured out what the hell was happening, Wynn headed back toward the river. She knew she should be studying the medallion, figuring out what the etching might mean. Or at least trying to discover why she’d remembered a crippling pain when she’d first picked it up.
Instead, she was forced to concentrate on planting one foot in front of the other. She was running on autopilot as the deep weariness clouded her mind, making it hard to think clearly.
“You’re tired,” Azh abruptly announced.
She didn’t bother to argue. “Too many sleepless nights followed by running from one disaster to another.”
“I think I can help with that.”
