“Was that before or afterher?” Aura whispers as if Lavinia could hear them in the wild, far from her cold, dark castle.
“Child, you don’t have to whisper. She might be an old bat, but her hearing isn’t that good.” He waves his hand in the direction of the Bay of Souls.
“I have only heard stories of her cruelty. What I don’t understand is why.”
“Power.”
This is why she and Makt work well together. She craves everything he gives.
“I could never get back into the culture of Salt after…after what happened with her. Thord also never gave me the chance. He exiled me when our disagreements caused more issues. Your father upheld Thord’s decision. I doubt Sigvid ever uttered my name in polite company.”
Aura’s gaze falls to her sketchbook, confirming Sigvid’s rare agreement with his father.
She lays a hand on Argnier’s arm. “I’m sorry for everything, Uncle Argnier. I imagine the sentiment from a Princess of Treland may seem insincere.”
“Not at all. Coming from you is what I needed to hear.” He pats her hand and lies back in the snow. “The fresh powder feels great on my back.”
Calder smiles just in time for the mink family to emerge from the stream into the field.
Aura, you are the most caring person I have ever met. You have even made a grumpy troll smile.
23
AURA
September 30th, Year 21, 10th Era
Coldheart Keep, Skalor
Aura clutches the Treland Sacred Stone in her left hand, her right arm extended outward, and her eyes tightly closed. She sits cross-legged in the Keep’s main level sitting room on a rickety chair.
“Briny?”
“Yes, Aurie, dear.”
“May I read Thora’s mind?”
There’s a loud sigh in her mind that is not her own. “That is not an ability.”
Aura grumbles, releasing her grip on the nautilus shell. She plucks her quill from behind her ear, frantically scribbling out ‘thought reading’ on this week’s list of abilities she is testing.
The parchment lies on the open Endless Shore architecture history book, sitting in her lap.
The ancient tome is a drier read than Ridge Province wine, and all she has managed to glean from its contents is the physical appearance of the gods’ temples.
She frowns as she reads her long list of rejected Sacred Stone powers.
“Ever think it’s in how you ask Grandpapi?” Thora pipes up from the hearth, where she heats a knife blade in her never-ending attempt to entertain herself.
Aura shakes her head. “He told me he and Grandma are not permitted to explain the powers. Gullveig has them on a tight leash since I’m no longer in Treland.”
It has been over a fortnight since Calder and Edmund assigned everyone’s tasks to uncover the location of Makt’s Temple. With Thora charged with Aura’s protection, they have spent their days by each other’s side.
Needless to say, the sisterly bonding session has gone about as well as anyone could have anticipated.
“I will figure out all of the continent’s Sacred Stone powers eventually,” Aura mutters. “Have you finished your scourge of the Keep?”
Thora whirls around, the knife embedding itself into an ugly painting of a brusque man.
