Free The Witch's Reward by Liz McCraine Page B

wasn’t disappointed.             
    “Well,” said Lissa, tartly. “I suppose you’d better get a start on that research, then. After all, you’ll want to know for sure what is going on.” Her implication that Lucien would not see the task through was obvious.
    With a little huff, she turned from him and walked back to the bed, picking up her needlework and pointedly ignoring her husband.
    Steffan sighed and shook his head. His wife was an interesting lady—smart and stubborn, with a no-nonsense take on life. She was an incredible mother and queen, and had a gift for getting along with most people. Most people except for Lucien, that was. Steffan couldn’t figure out why she had such an extreme disliking for the man. Oh, he had tried a time or two to get Lissa to tell him why she couldn’t stand his friend, but getting Lissa to confide was about as easy as getting a cat to bark. Each time he tried, Lissa closed up.
    He had bigger problems to deal with than the disharmony between those two. Even if Lissa didn’t trust his friend, Steffan knew Lucien would take care of the research promptly and efficiently. He hoped to soon learn of a loophole that would get him out of this mess.
     
    Lucien looked into the small, wooden bowl at the concoction he had just finished mixing. The white powder was odorless and tasteless, perfect for its purpose. Setting the bowl aside, he sat back into his big, fur-lined chair and regarded his desk. The candelabra in the corner gave off a soft light, illuminating the items on the desk in the otherwise dark room. The desk was large and scratched from dents made by many ink-filled quills. On one side of the desk sat a pile of dusty, leather-bound books containing works of law that had been recorded over the last several decades. On the other side sat scrolls of thin parchment and long, feathered quills waiting to be exercised by his long, tapered fingers. But it was the items at the top of his desk that drew most of his attention.
    The large, round crystal was positioned between two pieces of burnished copper. The bottom piece of copper was larger, heated and pounded to form a thick hexagon upon which the weight of the heavy ball rested. The second piece of copper was flattened into a thin, triangular shape that was gently bent and hugged the top of the crystal like a loving embrace. Next to the structure was a polished onyx stone. It was no bigger than his thumb, yet the power it could wield when placed upon the top of the crystal and copper structure was as intoxicating and seductive as magic.
    Lifting the smooth, black stone from the table, Lucien regarded it steadily with chilly, grey eyes. He ignored the leather books, never intending to research them, anyway. Their presence in his study was a mere formality, a cloak to cover any suspicion that his real activities might arouse should someone stumble into his private workroom. 
    Looking over his shoulder, he double-checked that the door was locked. Seeing the heavy metal latch in position, he turned back to the stone and crystal. Stroking the stone as he would a piece of soft velvet, he leaned forward and placed it above the triangular-shaped copper top. As he watched, the crystal began to grow cloudy, its clear, glasslike appearance turning the same stormy color as Lucien’s eyes. Even as it began to turn, Lucien’s words drifted through the dark room like a song in the dead of night.
                  “Seeds of life, sands of time,
                  Rise above and make thee mine
                  Show me now the things I seek
                  A witch, a prince, a forest deep…”
     

Chapter 7
    Larra spent the first few hours on the road trying not to think. She tried not to think of her grandmother crying in the kitchen, or recall the way the stone of the cottage had shined a burnished gold in the morning sun as she rolled away. She tried not to remember Kiera’s sobs as