Avina twirls a curl absentmindedly. Thrain, looking almost exactly like Sigvid, disorients her brain. She understands that his Sacred Stone power forces her to see him as the epitome of trust, but that knowledge does little to pierce the bubble of his illusion.
Or of Sigvid as an honorable person.
“When I finish wrapping your wounds, we must hasten back to Toftlund, or we may lose what remains of Sven to the elements.”
Thankfully, his bleeding ceases as she tends to him. She deftly knots the final scrap of fabric from his tunic around his torso. Fire ignites in her stomach while her fingertips trace the outline of his abdomen.
“Thank you for mending me.” His devilish smirk catches her off guard, and she recalls in vivid detail the night in Scarwood when she drank his hot seed down her throat. Heat flushes across her chilly cheeks.
He slides a cold, rough hand into the bodice of her gown. Her heart pumps an erratic rhythm as he massages her breasts, his thumb stroking her hard nipple. Just as the moan she is wrestling with threatens to expose itself, he withdraws her sapphire pendant.
“I know you took this from me. Likely when we arrived home?”
She shifts her weight, nodding curtly.
There's no point in denying it.
“I am sorry for not explaining the Ridge Sacred Stone sooner.” Sincerity permeates his rare apology.
The sapphire glows between his fingers as if sensing its existence.
She is unsurprised.
In her heart, she knows his words to be true.
“And I see you have figured out its amplificationpowers.” He drops the stone, allowing it to nestle atop her bodice. “We need to walk as we speak.”
They continue along the dirt path, following the river. Avina cannot contain the questions burning through her mind anymore.
“Why did it call to me? You did not seem surprised at my ability that night we… after the ice,” she shakes away the memory, “even though it is not in the three provinces.”
“Long ago, when Treland was one unified country, a Keeper maintained all three Sacred Stones combined. The gods granted this individual the power of invisibility to protect theseidrof the stones.” He strokes his braid while he speaks. “Safeguarding the Keeper is the Guardian—an individual with immense strength who could defend the gods’ power on our plane.”
“When the Great War divided the country in three, the Ridge maintained the Keeper bloodline while the Guardians were in Salt. The Guardian and the Keeper broke the stones and redistributed them to each province.”
The stories of the Keepers and Guardians are told in the Ridge, even if no one took stock of them.
“The stone called to you because you are to protect it and, by extension, the Salt and Timber stones.” He continues through his grinding teeth, his jaw set as he prepares to speak again. “And I am to protect you…as your Guardian.”
She wants to snort at the prospect of Sigvid protecting her life when he has spent the last three years actively trying to end it.
Avina stops in her tracks. “How do you know all of this anyway?”
“Knowledge passed down from Guardian to Guardian. We have used any means necessary to protect and learn all we can about the stones and those who protect them.”
“Do you have all of the stones?”
Is that what the other compartments of the silver chest hold? Ancient runes decorated the exterior, meaning it must have been the device the old Keepers used to store them.
To think she protects a piece of her country’s history.
“No, I do not possess all the stones.” Bitterness drips from his tone. “I have the Salt and Ridge stones. The chest you found is the original one used by the Keepers.”
“It would seem the legends are all true. The Salt Province does seek to obtain all three stones to rule Treland.” She mutters under her breath.
“No, Avina. Sabelina gave Ornolf the Ridge stone for protection.”
Yet again, she knows he isn’t lying and that the story of Princess Sabelina offering the stone to a Salt Prince for protection is historical. The Ridge stone pulses, and she can sense the reassurance of itsseidr.
