Gabria picked up the gem. A strange tingling touched her fingers. Surprised, she dropped the brooch and the tingling stopped. What’s this, she thought. She gently touched the gem and the sensation happened again, like the distant vibration of a faint pulse of power. Gabria was inexplicably reminded of Piers’s healing stone. She had not touched the red stone, but she sensed intuitively that this gem and Piers’s stone would have the same feeling of power.
Gingerly, Gabria picked up the gem again and held it up to the light from the hall’s entrance. The jewel tingled between her fingers. She looked into the gem’s brilliant, scintillating interior and wondered if this strange pulse was caused by magic. The gem had come from Medb, so it was possible he had put a spell on it.
The thought of Medb’s magic frightened her. She was about to drop the jewel back on the fur when suddenly an image began to form in the center of the stone. She watched horrified as the image wavered, then coalesced into an eye.
Not a simple human eye, but a dark orb of piercing intensity that stared into the distance with malicious intelligence. Gabria shuddered. The eye’s pupil was dilated. Looking into its center felt like falling into a bottomless hole.
“Gabran! What are you doing?”
Gabria leaped back, startled out of her wits. The image vanished. The gem fell out of her hands, bounced off the stone step, and rolled to Savaric’s feet. He leaned over to pick it up.
“No,” she cried abruptly. “Don’t touch it.”
Savaric’s hand halted in midair, and he glared at her, his black eyes menacing. “Why not, boy?”
Gabria stumbled over her words and her face flushed with guilt. She backed away from the dais, still shaken by the memory of the eye in the stone.
Savaric straightened, and the gem sparkled by his foot. “Why not?” he repeated harshly.
“It came from Medb. It’s dangerous,” she mumbled.
“How do you know where it came from?” the chief demanded.
She glanced back at the storeroom, then down at the floor. “I overheard the Wylfling emissary.”
“I see. And why do you think this gift is dangerous?”
Gabria swallowed. Her throat was very dry. What could she say? That she had felt the power embedded in the stone and saw the image of an eye in its center? She could hardly believe that herself. But she was certain of the danger the gem posed and the damage it could do if Savaric was not warned.
“I, uh . . . it is not exactly dangerous,” Gabria replied, stumbling over her words. “But it is . . . I have heard Medb is learning sorcery. I thought he may have tampered with the gem. It feels strange when you touch it.”
“I noticed nothing strange about the gem.” Savaric crossed his arms and stared at the girl. His face was dark with anger. “But you felt free to see for yourself.”
“I am sorry, Lord. I should not have touched your gift, but. . .” She paused and from somewhere in her memory, she remembered an old story her father liked to tell about a jealous sorcerer and a seeing stone. “Father told me a tale sometimes,” she said, looking up at Savaric, “about a sorcerer who kept watch on his wife through a jewel with a spell on it. It was a spell of surveillance, and it enabled the man to see and hear everything the lady was doing.”
The anger on Savaric’s face cleared a little. “I have heard that tale, too,” he said thoughtfully. “What made you think Medb may have done something similar to this brooch?” Gabria clasped her hands behind her back to hide their shaking. “The Khulinin are dangerous. Medb needs to keep close watch on you and a spy would be too obvious. This gift just seemed overly generous.”
Savaric picked up the gem and turned it over in his hands. He slowly relaxed and, when he finally spoke, his voice was no longer caustic. “I thought there was a hook in this gift, but I never imagined something like a seeing spell.” The chief gestured toward the door. “Did you know the Wylfling?”
Gabria sighed with relief, for it seemed Savaric had accepted her explanation. She considered the lord’s question and her lip curled. “He delivered several messages to Father. Has he been here before?”
Savaric was about to answer when something occurred to him. With a deft motion he folded his cloak and wrapped the jewel in the thick material. “If you are right about this,” he said, tucking the bundle under his arm, “we don’t need to announce your presence to Medb.”
Gabria drew a long breath. She had not even thought of that. “What will you do with the jewel?” she asked.
“Since I have chosen to trust you, I would like to see if your suspicion is right. The gods knew where you got this idea, but if it is true, perhaps we can use the gem to our advantage. I might try a little test. It would brighten Medb’s day if he thought the Khulinin would accept his offer.”
“He would be most pleased,” Gabria said with a small smile.
“For a while. He will have a rude awakening at the gathering.” He stopped and studied her intently. “Do you seriously intend to claim weir-geld by challenging Medb to a duel?”
“Yes. It must be a Corin who takes the payment.”
“It may not be possible.”
Gabria stiffened and her eyes met Savaric’s stern gaze. The chief was not going to dissuade her from challenging Medb. She had trained her body and prepared her mind for battle against her clan’s killer and no man, no matter how close in kinship or strict in lordship, was going to divert her. She would fight the Wylfling lord against her chief’s direct order if need be. “I will make it so,” she stated flatly.
Savaric walked to Gabria’s side and put his hands on her shoulders. His dark eyes glittered like jet, but beneath the cold glints was a warmth of sympathy. “I know you have your will set to fight Medb alone, and I will honor that as best I may. But there are other factors you do not know about that may influence your decision. When the council is held, remember who is your chief.”
Gabria nodded. She was relieved that Savaric seemed to accept her resolution and her obsession for vengeance. What bothered her, though, was his reference to “other factors.” There could be nothing that would stand between Gabria and her vengeance on Medb.
Savaric’s hand dropped and amusement eased the hardness in his face. “The emissary will be here for another day or two, presumably to rest before he returns to Wylfling Treld. I will see if Athlone is fit enough to argue with his father over the rule of the clan. Medb would be fascinated to think a rift was developing in the Khulinin.”
Gabria smiled. “And will you wear your new cloak brooch, my lord?”
Savaric chuckled. “Of course. You had better stay out of sight.” He shifted the folded cloak to a more casual position and walked purposefully out of the hall.
Gabria watched him go and noted with a pang of familiarity the way his Stride lengthened and his body tensed as he prepared for some important activity. Her brother, Gabran, used to radiate that kind of energy, a concentration of thought and power that boded ill for anyone who tried to thwart him. It was a calculating, tightly controlled strength that had helped him defeat many opponents in chess or swordplay. She had seen the same energy in Savaric before.
Gabria knew now that Savaric was concentrating on the jewel and his plan to test her warning about the seeing spell. If all went well, Medb would fall for Savaric’s ruse and reveal his hand. Gabria knew the gem had been tampered with, and she was certain of the purpose of the spell. But how had she known? Savaric had not noticed anything “strange about the gem. Only she had felt the power in the stone and saw the image of the eye. After the incident with Athlone the day before and her second dream, this encounter with sorcery was too coincidental to be ignored.
Something was happening to her, and she did not like it.
Medb was a sorcerer, not she. Yet she was the one who was accused of striking two men with an ancient arcane power. She was the one who recognized the spell on the brooch. If what Piers said were true, then she was the same as Medb: a profaning heretic.