Page 63 of Keeper of the Flame: Orrick

“Nay, it cannot mean that,” she said, smiling and shaking her head. “No one knew where I put it.”

“No one?” he asked with a raised brow. “Are you sure?”

“Well, I did mention it to Grace, but she wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“You didn’t.” He looked angrier than a mad wildcat now, pacing the room back and forth. “You have no idea what you’ve done,” he shouted.

“Stop yelling at me. I’m still the Keeper and I’ll prove it.” She walked over and pulled his dagger from his waist belt.

“What are you doing?” he asked, looking at her through narrowed eyes.

“I’m going to test it out. If I drag this blade across my hand and the cut heals, then that will prove to you that I am still the Keeper and there is nothing to worry about.”

“That’s addlepated,” he spat. “We already know by the way the flame extinguished that you are no longer the Keeper.”

“Well, I don’t believe it. Besides, we need to be sure.” She moved the edge of the dagger closer to her hand.

“Hope, stop it! You’re being stupid and you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“I have to know.” She dragged the sharp edge of the blade across her hand, immediately feeling the pain. The skin parted and blood leaked out. “Ow!” she cried, dropping the blade to the ground, holding one hand over her wound.

“I told you, but you wouldn’t listen.”

Orrick walked over to his shelf, choosing a bottle and coming back to her. “Hold out your hand.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“Just do it.”

“All right,” she said, trusting him. She held out her hand, palm upward, and the blood continued to ooze out. It felt like a thousand bees stinging her at once. She now regretted doing such a stupid thing.

He poured a liquid on her hand, making her flinch from the burn.

“Hold still,” he said, reciting some foreign language and waving his hand over hers. She instantly felt relief. The pain was gone and the bleeding slowed. Then he went over to another shelf and picked up a strip of cloth, wrapping it around her hand.

“Now we have matching wounds,” he grumbled. “Are you all right?”

“Besides my pride being wounded, I’m fine,” she admitted. “But tell me, what did you do?”

“I used a spell to slow down the bleeding and take away your pain.”

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I’m a sorcerer, of course I can. It won’t totally heal the wound, but it will speed up the process.”

“Thank you, Orrick,” she said, reaching up and giving him a peck on the cheek. “What do we do now?”

“Well, now we need to find out who stole the flame and just where it is.” He walked over and picked up a crystal orb from the shelf and set it down on the table atop a small pillow. With a wave of Orrick’s hand, he effortlessly relit the hearth across the room.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“I’m going to scry.”

“Scry? Do you mean you can find the thief by looking into the crystal?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never done it before, but I think so.”

“Why didn’t you do that the first time the flame went missing?”