His focus returned to his plate, and he picked up his horig cake and took another bite.
I met Lore’s gaze.Does that relate to fusing the talismans?
“Tell me more,” he said to Lord Briscalar.
“More about your party?” The lord grinned. “Oh, my king, it will be glorious. I’ve worked with the sprites. Did I tell you that? They’ve agreed to provide lighting. And let us not forget all the sumptuous dishes our very own Chef Dulvade plans to craft in your honor.” He went off on a tangent about the magical decorations.
He won’t or can’t say more,I said.
Another clue or an odd rambling?
Let’s finish eating, send him on his way, and then we can talk about what he said.I glanced at Calista, but she was staring into the fireplace, seemingly not listening. Or, if she had been, her mind had blanked along with Lord Briscalar’s.Once they’re gone, we can plot how we’ll fuse the talismans. Hopefully the third can give us the most vital clue.
Agreed.
We finished, then sent everyone away.
We waited until even the sound of Calista’s footsteps faded.
Only then did I move, sweeping a few books from the lowtable in front of the sofa and setting them aside so we could work. Lore followed, his expression tight. So much was at stake, and we didn’t have much time.
I pulled the talismans out of my pocket, secure in a soft pouch, and untied the top, tugging each out gently.
When I laid them out on the table, they looked entirely unremarkable. A blue-stoned key. A circular filigree gold pendant with a red gem. And the featherdorn no bigger than the end of my thumb, fragile and glowing in the morning light, its wings twitching.
Lore sat beside me on the sofa, his broad hand resting on the cushion, his body angled toward the table.
Farris leaped off the sofa, his nose twitching, and his gaze on the talismans. He didn’t touch them, but circled around the table as if inspecting them, his puffy tail shifting in a slow rhythm. When he stopped, he sat and laid his snout on the table beside the featherdorn. He released a soft huff.
Lore’s brows drew together. “That can’t be random.”
I glanced from the featherdorn to Farris, whose eyes remained fixed on it, unblinking. “Are you trying to tell us something, little one?”
His tail thumped on the floor before stilling.
“Maybe,” I said. “But what?”
Lore shrugged. “He’ll find a way.”
Alright, then.
“Essence,” I said, touching the key. “Devotion.” I moved my fingers to the pendant with the blood-red gem. “Dominion.” I touched the featherdorn last. I retrieved my pen and paper, the one that transcribed whatever I willed, laying them on the table near the talismans. “Write our talisman analysis, please.” The quill twitched, then began to write in smooth, looping ink at thetop of the page. “If we can understand what the traits represent, we might gain insight in how to fuse them.”
Lore sat back, resting his arm on the sofa behind me. “Essence. Evergorne. This court has long prized wisdom, inner strength, and reflection. The key was hidden beneath the throne room. It took our love and caring for each other to reveal it.”
“‘Seek within to find the parts of yourself that are missing,’” I said. “That was Justifar’s first prophecy, at my coronation. Perhaps Essence is tied to self.”
“To the soul,” he said softly. “The essence of who someone is. Identity, truth, the raw materials of the self before anything else gets added. That’s how I see Evergorne. Us.”
“I wasn’t born here.”
“You’re Evergorne and Evergorne is you.”
Perhaps.
“Every lesson begins with ‘know thyself.’” I lifted the second talisman, the golden pendant with the red gem. “Halendor. Devotion. King Tallin forgot that devotion would control the labyrinth, but I imagine he’s learning now.”
“Devotion is an emotional weight, which ties into our love.” He laid his hand on my thigh, squeezed it.
