Kingdom of Scourge and Shadow (The Sightstone Series #1)

Chapter Thirty-Five: Judith

"Is it heresy to question what we are taught? Is it heresy to wonder about our history and our power? Is it heresy to question the truth of the Saints? The Church would tell you it is, but I am not so sure."

-from the Codices of Saint Caroline the Heretic

***

She was dreaming again.

This time, though, she was alone. She–the Allmother, not Judith–knelt in a dark room, a plain, dark chest in front of her. Her hands traveled over the black-lacquered wood, feeling for traps or weaknesses in the grain. A potted plant on a nearby table strained towards her, pulled by her subconscious call. She ignored it.

Her hands shook a little as she undid the iron buckles. It was almost anticlimactic when nothing nasty shot out at her as she pushed back the heavy lid. The iron hinges groaned, rusted over with age. Her Inventors had done as much as they could, but they hadn't been able to determine if there was a trap of some sort awaiting them, and she hadn't wanted to take that risk, so the iron had stayed rusted.

Hesitantly, she peered into the depths of the chest, where something bulky and uneven in shape rested on a bed of black silk, covered with another piece of black silk, inky and smooth as cool water.

The chest's contents seemed to pulse, and she could hear their call like it was reaching out to her, pulling something within her closer. Slowly, carefully, she reached for the black silk wrapping. If there was a trap awaiting her, this was where it would be.

But, as she withdrew the cloth, nothing happened.

Anticipation and fear warred within her as she risked a glance over the edge of the chest. Her heart stuttered, missing a beat, as she beheld the prize contained within. Then, her heart resumed its beating, steady and strong as her blood sang with a call that wasn't her own.

They'd found it. They'd finally found it.

For there, cradled in black silk, was a hunk of stone that, through the Allmother's eyes, Judith recognized immediately. It was blue, shot through with veins of caramel and gold, rough-hewn and beautiful, with strange, shadowy figures moving within it.

Somewhere nearby, a bell tolled, and Judith shot awake, the dream falling away. She rolled over and glanced at the clock on the wall as awareness returned slowly as she pushed sleep away. Her heart was racing, and she was trembling. She felt as strange as she always did when she woke from one of these dreams. Her hand went to her shoulder, to her stomach, where somehow scars had appeared.

It was a relief to know that, this time, she hadn't picked up any new marks she couldn't explain.

The clock seemed to read an hour til noon, and Judith shook her head to clear it, sure that her vision was just blurred, that she was seeing wrong. She blinked and looked again. But the time stayed the same. Her heart jumped and she was halfway out of bed before she realized that she wasn't running late.

It was Samhain, she remembered. It was Samhain, and, last night, they'd kept their flame burning until dawn, earning them the morning off. They had an hour before they had to report to the main building for the celebrations. The others were all still asleep, but Judith would have to wake them soon if they didn't want to be late.

Still, for now, she had a few minutes to herself.

Judith let out a shaky breath and rose, brushing strands of dark hair out of her face. Wearily, she stretched, her whole body aching after last night. She staggered into the bathing room and sank onto the edge of the massive, marble tub. She gave the silver knobs a twirl, and hot water cascaded into the bath.