Karigan shivered. Timas had gotten his revenge by taking his case to his relatives of status who lived in the city who, in turn, took his case to the dean and the trustees. Karigan had initiated the fight. She was the one to blame.
The scene faded out, Rendle talking to her softly, and Timas’ glare radiating across the practice field to her like a flare of pure hate.
Karigan fought to pull away from the terrible visions, but the telescope wasn’t done with her yet.
The brightness of day darkened to night. Little could be seen except a rider, cloaked and hooded in gray, mounted on a shadowy horse. She felt unexplained attraction, coupled with fear, toward the rider. She was drawn inexorably closer to him. He twisted toward her. Though she couldn’t see his features beneath his hood, she felt his cold gaze as if he could see her where she stood in the library. Icy daggers of fear pierced her heart.
Who are you? he demanded. Who watches?
She felt unseen eyes search for her, and felt his smile. The mirror goes both ways, he said.
Karigan’s mind screamed in fear.
The telescope, or maybe it was her own will this time, wrenched her out of that scene. But no sooner was she out than she was plunged into another. A tall man with almond-shaped brown eyes gazed at her sadly. She couldn’t make out his surroundings, but she had an impression of a room of stone walls like a keep or a prison.
Kari, the man said, I need you. I need you here. Please don’t accept that mission. It’s dangerous and I can’t bear the thought of losing you.
This man needed her? Who was he that he should speak to her so? She tried to call out to him, to reach for him, but she could not move or speak. What mission? she wanted to ask. What danger?
His image shimmered, then vanished, and she felt inexplicably bereft and alone. Stars filled the eyepiece once again. Released from the spell of the telescope, Karigan fell to her knees weak and breathless, her whole body shaking and drenched with sweat, her head throbbing.
She cupped the crystal in her hand and staggered over to an overstuffed chair by the unending fire. She curled up and heaved a sigh as the warmth of the crystal wrapped around her.
INTRIGUE
Karigan had not realized she’d fallen asleep in the big chair until she awakened to find Miss Bunchberry gently shaking her wrist. “Supper, dear child. Letitia has outdone herself.”
Karigan stretched and yawned, and nearly walked out of the room with the crystal cupped in her hand, before she remembered it and replaced it on Professor Berry’s table of oddities. Of all the objects in the library, the crystal seemed to be a source of light and warmth, and possessed no twisted qualities like the telescope. The silver light extinguished as her fingers released it. The room grew dark and uninviting without its radiance.
“I daresay,” Miss Bunch said as she led Karigan out of the room, “it’s been a long time since I’ve seen the moonstone aglow. It will not work for Bay or me.”
“Moonstone?”
“Oh, yes. It holds a silver moonbeam.”
Hairs prickled on the back of Karigan’s neck. “You aren’t telling me it’s really—”
“Of course I am. It was given to Father by an Eletian years ago.” Miss Bunchberry smiled, and her eyes became dreamy. “I rather fancy the story of Laurelyn the Moondreamer and how she built a castle of silver moonbeams, don’t you? Silver-mind it was called. My father wanted to go find it, but other projects diverted his attention, and before he knew it, he was too old for adventuring.”
Laurelyn the Moondreamer. Karigan had heard the story as a tiny child, and had forgotten it long since. In her memory, she could hear the words as she sat wrapped in her mother’s protective arms. “Tell me ’bout Laur’lyn, Momma. Tell me again.” Her request was met with a warm chuckle. “Maybe you will build your own castle of moonbeams one day, Kari.” And the story would be repeated till she fell asleep.
“Have I made you sad?” A startled expression crossed Miss Bunchberry’s face. “Are you in pain?”
Karigan wiped away a tear. Yes, and yes. Aloud she said, “I’m fine.”
Aromas of roast goose and baked bread drifted through the house, reminding her of Midwinter Festival: loud music, wild dancing, and plenty of imbibing. Her father always invited the cargo master and crew, and all the closest kin of Clan G’ladheon. Her mother used to preside over the affair, an element of calm and dignity amidst the frenzy of merrymaking. Her mother, with her high forehead and rich brown hair, the one parent everyone saw when they looked at Karigan.
The tears brimmed in her eyes again,but her solemn thoughts were dashed when she saw Miss Bayberry sitting primly at the head of a ridiculously long table that rivaled, in length, any in the dining hall at Selium. The silver was in use again, and the table was positively heaped with food. Karigan wondered exactly what clan had been invited to feast with them.
“Please be seated,” Miss Bayberry said.
Fortunately, the three settings had been placed at one end of the table, rather than at opposite ends. Otherwise they would have had to shout to one another to carry on a conversation.
Miss Bayberry dropped a cloth napkin on her lap. “F’ryan Coblebay couldn’t join us though we did the proper thing and invited him. It seems he expends far too much energy when in contact with that which is earthly, and he wishes to reserve it for times when he’s truly needed.” She sniffed, indicating how she felt about that. “The Horse couldn’t join us either. Letitia was resolute that she would not have him in the house. To help compensate, Rolph has been feeding him premium grain and the sweetest hay.”