Elaria Silverstan's Arc

Chapter 39 of 39

The disguise held for now. Lia rode in the sled, her red glow steady again. But Elaria still faced the same problem she had carried since the glacier. Her warmth crystal pulled toward a paired stone she could not find. Without knowing where that stone waited, she had no true bearing home. The locket Aldric gave her only pointed in a rough line. It could not tell her the end. She needed someone who knew the old paths. Elara wiped her hands and named one. A blind woman lived on the high ice. People called her the oracle. "If anyone knows where the paired stone sleeps, it is her," Elara said. Elaria climbed the slope for half a day. She found the oracle seated outside a shelter of packed snow. The woman's eyes were pale and fixed on nothing. A tall staff leaned against her shoulder, its head a single clear crystal. She did not turn when Elaria approached. "You bring two stones that cry for each other," the oracle said. Her voice was flat and tired. "I have heard them coming for three days." Elaria knelt. She drew out the twin-halved locket and the divining rod she had gathered for this. "I cannot finish my road home," she said. "The crystal calls, but I cannot find where." The oracle held out a lined hand. Elaria placed the rod across it. The old woman ran her thumb over the runes on the shaft. "This tool listens far," she said. "But it needs a voice to aim it." She lifted her crystal staff and touched its tip to the rod's hooked end. The clear crystal woke with a low hum. Frost crawled along the rod's length. "Open the locket," the oracle said. Elaria pried apart the two shard halves. Inside, one stone flared bright, matching the crystal in her coat. The rod turned in the oracle's grip. Its hook swung and held, pointing down the slope and past the frozen valley. "There," the oracle said. "Your stone waits at the foot of the old glacier, in the place where the first ice was cut. A drowned quarry, three days south. The rod will hold that bearing now. It has drunk my crystal's voice." Elaria closed her hand around the rod. The hook did not waver. For the first time since the glacier, she knew exactly where her road ended. Her breath came easier. Then the oracle gripped her wrist. Her blind eyes seemed to search Elaria's face. "But you are not the only one who now knows," she said. "The stones cried for three days. I am old and slow. The man in the red coat is neither. He will read the same pull. He will reach the quarry before you unless you run." Elaria stood. The bearing was hers at last. So was the race. She fixed the rod to the sled and turned south.