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The memory carried me into a circular chamber lined with books and silver instruments I did not recognize. Three old mages stood around a worktable while my mother carefully unwrapped an amulet from a length of blue cloth. Even before I saw it clearly I knew what it was.
This must be the key, or something close to it. I wondered if the necklace itself was the key, or if the one strong enough to wield it was the key.
One of the mages lifted it with surprising reverence. "There is power sleeping inside this," he murmured.
“So I have been told,” Ryaran answered. “Though most cannot wake it.”
The oldest mage looked between the sisters. He turned the pendant slowly in his hands. "If awakened incorrectly it could become something very dangerous."
Ryaran reached for it immediately. "Then leave it sleeping."
He nodded and wrapped it carefully back in the cloth. "We'll continue our study tomorrow."
The memory lurched.
Night. Ryaran slept. Moonlight stretched across the floor. Jularin stood beside the bed and watched her sister for a long time. Then she quietly reached beneath the pillow. The blue cloth emerged in her hands. She hesitated only once before she left.
The next room glowed with candlelight. King Orsin waited alone. He smiled before she had spoken a word.
"You came."
"I brought it." She unfolded the cloth.
His eyes fixed on the pendant and for the first time since I had entered this memory I saw what was underneath the charm and the attention and the careful smiles. Want. Pure and focused and patient, the kind that had been waiting a long time.
"You said your mages could awaken it," Jularin said.
"They can." He stepped closer and reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "And when they do, Alarna will never fear another war."
She laughed softly. "I knew you would help."
He kissed her forehead. "I'll protect everything you love."
She placed the pendant in his hand. He closed his fingers around it and the smile on his face changed. Barely. Enough. Jularin did not notice.
I did.
Then he reached into a carved wooden box resting next to him and withdrew a silver pin set with a pale stone unlike anything she had seen. At first glance it looked milky white, but when it caught the light, something beneath its surface shifted.
"Paravin," he said. "The only stone of its kind ever taken from the mines of Yorali."
He reached over and fastened it at her temple himself.
"So long as it is worn, it stands as a symbol of your loyalty to the Crown of Yorali."
Jularin's fingers rose to the stone, lingering there for a moment.
"I will cherish it," she said softly.
Color touched her cheeks. Orsin noticed.
He smiled.
"I suspect you will."
The next morning. Ryaran stood outside the council chamber.
"The royal mages are examining it," Orsin said pleasantly.
