Free Microsoft Word - Burning Lamp - Quick_ Amanda by noel Page A

heavy base inscribed with alchemical symbols. The sides flared out as they rose
    upward. Murky gray crystals were embedded in a circle just below the rim.

    “What do you sense?” Griffin asked. He did not take his eyes off the lamp.

    “Dreamlight,” she said. “A great deal of it.”

    “Can you work it?”

    “Possibly,” she said. “But not alone. From time to time over the years I have tried to access the
    energy in that lamp. I can make it glow faintly but that is all. But I can tell you one thing, if it is
    ever truly ignited, there may be no going back.”

    He picked up the artifact and carried it to the small attic window to get a better look. “How do I
    go about lighting it?”

    “You don’t know?”

    “I handled the artifact a few times when I was younger but I was never able to activate it. My
    father believed that was because I had not inherited the curse. The lamp was stolen when I was
    fifteen. This is the first time in two decades that I have seen it.”

    “What about Nicholas’s journal? Didn’t he provide instructions on how to work the lamp?”

    “If you know anything about the old alchemists you know that they were all obsessed with their
    secrets. Nicholas did not leave much in the way of specific instructions. I think he assumed that
    the man who tried to access the energy in the lamp would be guided by his own intuition and that
    of the dreamlight reader.”

    “I see.”

    “Well, Mrs. Pyne?” he said. “Will you work the lamp for me and reverse the process that has
    begun? Will you save me?”

    She opened her senses and looked at his dreamprints. They burned on the wooden floorboards.
    He believed the legend, she thought. Whether or not it was true, he was convinced that he had
    inherited the Winters Curse.

    “I will try to work the lamp for you,” she said.

    “Thank you.”

    “But I want to read your ancestor’s journal before I attempt to manipulate the energy of the
    thing.”

    “I understand. I will bring it to you this evening.”

    “I’m afraid that will not be convenient. I am committed to attend the theater with friends tonight.
    Surely there is no great rush here. Judging by your dreamprints you are not on the brink of any
    sort of psychical disaster. Bring the journal to me tomorrow morning. I will study it and then
    decide how to proceed.”

    He did not look pleased by the short delay but he did not argue.

    “Very well, perhaps you are right,” he said. “My fate is in your hands. I will pay you whatever
    you ask.”

    “Yes, well, as to the matter of my fee,” she said, “I really do not need your money. I am, as it
    happens, a rather wealthy woman.”

    “I understand. Please know that I am in your debt. If there’s ever anything a man in my position
    can do for you, you have only to ask.”

    “As it happens, I do have a favor to request in exchange for my assistance with the lamp,” she
    said.

    He looked at her. His eyes were suddenly very, very green and as hot as his dreamprints. Energy
    floated across her nerves. She could have sworn that the shadows had deepened in the room.

    “Ah, yes, the bargain you mentioned,” he said very softly. “What do you want in exchange for
    saving me, Mrs. Pyne?”

    She steeled her nerve. “Your expertise and professional advice.”

    Once again she could tell that she had caught him off guard.

    “On what subject?” he asked, very wary now.

    She tipped up her chin. Her intuition was warning her that she should never have started down
    this particular road but she refused to change course.

    “You pointed out that the strategy I have been employing in the brothel raids has become
    predictable,” she said. “I require a fresh approach.”

    “No.” The single word was flat and unequivocal.

    She ignored the interruption. “Mr. Pierce spoke very highly of your abilities in matters of
    strategy. Indeed, he said that no one is as skilled as you, sir.”

    “No.”

    “You know far more