The Hidden Crystal

Chapter 50

Char opened his eyes cautiously and climbed to his feet. The light had faded, the white orb had disappeared, and Iris and Micah stood facing each other. His cold blue eyes were wide with surprise and doubt. Iris was bathed in a soft white light, the same glow that shone between the fingers of her right hand from the amulet. Blood continued to trickle from her wounds. The red cord and blue flames had vanished.

"You want the power in this amulet?" she challenged him. "You don't know what you seek. But he does."

She pointed beside Micah, and he stepped back in alarm as a man materialized in that spot. He was gray and translucent, little more than a shadow, his features dulled and blurred, his eyes hollow and sad.

"He was a mage like you, a mage who sought more power. He found the crystal, and he cut the amulet from it. His own magic sealed his fate."

She pointed beside him, and another man appeared next to the first, shorter and stouter, his eyes just as hollow and sad.

"Because it wasn't just his magic that was trapped in the amulet at his death. His very soul was wrenched from his dying body to be used by the next bearer as a tool to sharpen his own magic. And when the next bearer died, he, too, found himself locked in the amulet, unable to rest."

A horde of the gray figures filled the throne room to the left of her. Men, women, humans, dragons, elves, dwarves. All had borne the amulet in life, and all were inextricably tied to it in death.

"They all know the power of this amulet, and they're all tired. They want it to end. For a thousand years, they have searched for the person who won't succumb to greed, the person who will break the cycle. They're all in my head, every moment of every day. Do you know what that sounds like? Do you know what that feels like?"

A roar of whispers echoed in Char's head. Micah's eyes widened, and several of the court ministers clapped their hands over their ears. The noise was deafening. The common tongue, old draconian, elvish - dozens of languages, hundreds of voices, all saying the same thing: End this.

"I'll let you in on a little secret, Micah," Iris continued. "Your extraction process doesn't work on me. The past bearers give you a drop of magic to make you think you're getting what you want, but you're actually unlocking their power in me. Every time, you just make me stronger."

She walked toward him, and he took a step back.

"I'm going to restore this amulet to its crystal, but first, I need to deal with you."

Blue magic shot from both of his hands toward her, slamming into her and engulfing her momentarily. Micah smirked, and then the blue vanished, absorbed into the white surrounding her. She hadn't stopped. Her eyes were glowing white, all traces of her brown irises gone. His smirk vanished, and she raised her left hand, pressing it into the center of his chest.

"You've become an amulet, Micah. They're all trapped inside you, and I'm setting them free."

He tried to step back, but a wall of white prevented his escape.

"I don't have to fight you to destroy you," she said, and then she closed her eyes, and white flared under her left hand.

"What are you doing?" Micah exclaimed, his voice strangled.

Another gray, translucent form appeared on his left, Iris' right. A little girl who couldn't be more than five years old.

"I could be cruel and make you feel everything I felt every time you did this to me, but, as you said, compassion is my weakness," Iris said bitterly.

The white spread from her hand, holding him still and pulling more shadows out of him. They lined up beside Alana, as many as the past bearers of the amulet, filling the throne room to Iris' right, humans and enchanted creatures of all shapes and sizes. Char recognized Jonah and Father John as the last of the hollow, sad faces. The king and the court ministers crowded against the door, hard pressed to find room among the throng of ghosts. Micah was pale and sweaty.