“What did you find?” Onric asked, taking the lantern back from her hand and lifting it higher to catch the flame faster.
“We don’t know yet.” Meena took the now lit lantern back from his hands. “Go find Aizel and mayhap we’ll find some more answers to all your questions.”
“Yes, captain.” Onric’s voice was filled with gentle mockery, but he turned immediately and walked quickly back into the castle.
With the help of the lantern, Meena made her way safely back up into the old ruins. Erich used to scare her with stories of the monsters—who were created by the Majis—who came out in the hall after dark. They lived in the old tunnels which ran under the hall as an escape route. Meena shook away the old fears. If there were any monsters, they’d been created by Erich. But the old tunnels might be the perfect place to hide a treasure for Celesta.
She dashed up the staircase, bursting into the upper room of the tower. “I found parchment and chalk!” she declared. “I’m ready to find the coded message!”
Ashlin stood still, bent over the tapestry while holding the needle at eye level. Her eyes were tense, scrunched together tightly under eyebrows. “Just a moment,” she whispered, her eyes not leaving the needle.
Meena stopped at the door, approaching the table cautiously. “What’s wrong?”
Ashlin closed her eyes and dropped the needle into the tapestry, gently running the dull point of the clumsy iron implement across the section she had been restoring.
Meena watched her movements, her concern growing by the second.
Ashlin directed the needle to an empty section of fabric and cautiously poked it through. The needle slid between the close weave of the fabric, naturally stretching the threads apart from each other. Rather than force the needle completely through the fabric, Ashlin pulled it back out in reverse. The small hole which had formed in the fabric remained pressed out of shape, leaving a tiny gap in the perfectly interwoven threads.
“It no longer works.” Ashlin’s voice was barely a whisper.
“The needle?” Meena asked, even though she knew the answer was obvious. The small hole in the otherwise flawless fabric gaped at Meena, mocking her.
“It’s not guiding me,” Ashlin replied. “It just feels like a regular needle now, and a rather clumsy one at that.” Her fingers worked over the hole, massaging the threads back into place.
“Are you sure?” Meena asked, the words coming out louder and faster than she intended. “Perhaps you are just overtired?” Meena made her way around the table to reach her distraught friend. “Or maybe the needle is.”
“The needle is?” Ashlin asked.
“Tired. Perhaps the needle is tired.”
Ashlin shook her head, turning sorrowful eyes to meet Meena. “It is a spelled needle. Perhaps someone removed the spell?”
“We can ask ...”
As if summoned, Aizel pushed through the door, followed closely by Onric and Erich.
“What did you find?” Onric asked, rushing forward to reach Ashlin first.
Meena looked from Ashlin to Onric. “It’s something else—” she started.
“What’s wrong?” Onric asked, cutting her off as he reached Ashlin’s side.
“The needle stopped working, it feels ... dead, somehow. Hollow.” Ashlin leaned into Onric’s supportive hug, but her eyes sought out Aizel. “Can you sense when an object has magic in it?”
Aizel nodded. “Usually.”
Meena handed her the needle. “It’s no longer pulsing with magic. Can you feel anything?”
“No.” Aizel twisted the needle in her hand. “It’s empty.”
Ashlin’s shoulders fell. “Did I break it?”
“What? No. It’s not broken. It’s empty. It ran out of magic.”
“Items can do that?” Meena replied.
“Of course.” Aizel handed the needle back to Ashlin. “A spelled item holds no particular power in and of itself. It only has the power that you give it.”
