“If Moira is the Goddess of the Present and gave you her power and her piece of the stone, then what is my piece?”
Evie shook her head. “I don’t know but we need to find out.”
“How do we do that?” Chloe asked.
She smiled. “I have an idea.”
Evie stuck her piece of the stone back into her pocket, then took her by the hand. Chloe fisted hers as she dragged her out of the stable toward the keep. She had a pretty good idea what her sister was up to and she wasn’t certain she was all for it.
Once they were in the keep, she took her to the kitchen where it was a bustle of activity. No one seemed to take note of them, as if it were a common occurrence for the lady of the castle to be there. Evie found a kitchen knife, then took her scarred hand in hers.
“Hey, wait,” Chloe objected.
“It won’t hurt.”
Before she objected again, Evie used the tip of the knife to cut her palm. Blood welled along the line through the imprint of the stone. They waited.
“The stone, Chlo,” she said with a hint of excitement.
She still clutched the stone in her other hand, so she transferred it to her bleeding one. Evie closed her fingers around the stone.
Nothing happened.
“What now?” Chloe asked.
“We wait.”
They stood in the kitchen as maids went about their business. Pots boiled, bread baked, vegetables were chopped. And still nothing happened.
“I don’t get it,” Evie said, frowning.
Chloe opened her fingers. The stone was slick with blood. At least it was a shallow cut.
“I guess it was worth a shot anyway,” she said.
“I guess I was wrong. Come on. Let’s get you bandaged up.”
CHAPTER 15
It was later that afternoon, after Evie had bandaged her hand and left to tend to her lady of the keep duties, that Chloe found herself alone wandering the castle. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but she ended up at the tapestry room. She was drawn to the enchanted wall hangings though she couldn’t say why. It was akin to the feeling she had had when she stepped foot into Mystic Treasures. It was that same pull, that same fascination, that same need.
She pushed open the door, leaving it open, so the light from the hallway illuminated the room, slashing across the floor and up the wall. With slow steps, she approached the strange tapestries. She reached out a hand to touch a textile. It seemed like any other ordinary woven material but there was something about it that was different. Several of the threads shimmered and glowed and morphed as the images moved.
It was both fascinating and horrifying.
The first one hadn’t changed much. The one with Moira and the two women. And she understood, then, who they were. The Triple Goddess. If Moira was Present, then it seemed to her the other two represented Past and Future. The question was which part of the keystone was hers? Which goddess did she represent?
The keystone was in her pocket and emitted a little vibration. She pulled it out. The lines were not glowing but there was a definite low hum to the stone. Her brows pulled together as she pondered this, wondering why it now chose to hum. Hoping to ignore it, she stuck it back into her pocket and glanced back up at the tapestry.
As she peered at the first image with the three women on the craggy hill, the dark-haired goddess appeared to turn her head toward her, meeting her gaze.
The startled jolt hit her as she stumbled back a step. The stone hummed louder. The woman, this goddess, continued to peer at her with light-blue, haunting eyes.
Do not fear, lady of Clan Sinclair.
The mellifluous voice fluttered through her mind. Her mouth went dry. Though she knew the words were spoken in her head, she still glanced around to make sure she was alone.
She was.
