The Amulet Of Nicmir (The Scripts Of Neptune, Book 1)

Chapter 6

Lillian took a cautious, quiet step onto the stone slab. She stopped, listening. The forest around her was quiet, bathed in tranquility and peace. Crickets chirped, a whippoorwill's call pierced the moonlit air, and a light, gentle breeze caressed her cheeks. It fluttered through the leaves, weaving through the trees and bringing them to life in a dancing flurry of gold, crimson, and sunset orange that glowed with an unearthly purplish hue from the moon.

Content in the knowledge that she was indeed alone there in the ruins, Lillian strode over the cracked, moonlit slab. A weed-choked garden sat in the center, spherical in shape. Flowers thrived there, unlike Lillian had ever seen. They glowed pale green, almost white, nodding gently in the breeze. The light pulsed gently, like a heartbeat, and the hair on Lillian's arms and neck stood up on end as she got closer. She could feel the raw, underlying power in this place; it settled in the air like a mist, peaceful and terrifying.

There was a rock set in the middle of the garden, imbedded immovably in the ground. A pointed blue stone shone at its top, glittering in the pale moonlight. It was spired and polished, with points like dragon's teeth.

"The Moonstone," Lillian murmured to herself. She'd heard many legends about the famed crystal, of how hundreds had lost their lives trying to wrench it from its stony setting. Stories were told of its healing abilities, and some said that the reshulia got its restorative qualities from the gem. Others said that a goddess resided in it, like an egg, resting until her time of emergence.

Lillian was thankful simply for the fact that the reshulia existed, and that she could save Sam.

Crouching by the garden, she gently grasped the stem of a flower and severed it from the plant. It lost its glow immediately, and a ring of light rippled out along the slab from the garden. It traveled into the woods beyond, lighting the ground.

Before her eyes, the forest came to life. The plants glowed, the trees glowed, the rocks glowed. Everything was illuminating a soft, pale reflection of the color it exhibited naturally. The leaves were the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen, all golden and red and orange. The grass swayed in the breeze, virid light rippling through the folds of it that covered the forest floor like a blanket. Rocks were lighted steely grey, poking from beneath the fallen leaves. The crumbled, ancient stone structures around the rock slab seemed to be the only things that failed to conduct the beauty of it all, standing lifeless and dead as ever in the thick ferns.

And then it all disappeared. The light went out, doused by some invisible force. Lillian heard a twig crack, and her heart jumped. She was vulnerable, out in the open.

Sprinting from the rock, she bolted into the woods, trying to be as silent as possible, as she usually was. Her attempts failed miserably. Branches snapped like shots from a crossbow under her flying heels, and leaves crunched beneath her feet as she ran. She could hear someone—or something—pursuing her, and whatever it was, it was fast.

Just before she caught sight of her horse, something caught her ankles. She pitched forward into the leaves, the wind knocked out of her. Her heart pounded wildly, and panic seized her. Kicking out in an attempt to rid herself of her attacker, her boot hit something soft and firm, drawing a pained gasp. The grip on her legs loosened, and she scrambled to her feet, groping for the knife at the back of her belt.

Holding the blade out defensively, she waited for her eyes to adjust enough to see her offender. The light show had ruined her night vision, rendering her nearly blind in the dark.

When she saw who'd tackled her, the knife slipped from her grasp, skewering through the carpet of leaves and sticking in the ground. She took a step back. "Nyle?"