did not fear death. For power, for the longing to dominate, they were ready to pay any price. Just like your friend, whoâs come this far knowing well that he is unworthy to touch Seraphen.â
âThatâs not what weâve come for ⦠weâre not here for power.â
The man gazed at her inquisitively. âA half-elf,â he muttered.
âYes!â Nihal shouted. âYes! A half-elf! I am worthy of touching the stone! Let us go. Grant us the stone and let me save my friend. â¦â
âWhat business do you have with the stone?â
âTo defeat the Tyrant.â
An ironic smile spread across the manâs face. âThe Tyrant ⦠one more pathetic man, blinded by power.â
âI have the talisman with me here.â Nihal sprinted toward the glimmering object and lifted it in the air, displaying her ability to touch the amulet without harm. âYou see? Iâve already retrieved one of the stones.â She pointed to the stone.
The guardian eyed it. âAel? How could one so full of rage and hatred have been granted possession of Ael?â
Nihal didnât know how to respond. It was true. But little by little her fury was abating, giving way to her concern for Sennar.
âWhy is it you want the stone? Not for the reason youâve just given me. â¦â
âNo â¦â Nihal murmured. âAll I want is to get out of here. Now. I want only to wrap my arms around my friend, to know heâs alive. And the stone is our only way of moving forward.â
The guardian stared back at her, impassive. With one sweep of his trident, he knocked the amulet from her hands.
Nihal fell to the ground, as if stripped of all her strength.
Turning the trident over, the guardian loosed a stone from the glimmering center prongâa dark blue stone, which seemed to be infused with the depths of the ocean. He lifted it, and for a moment it seemed to glow in the light of the moon, until the reflection itself was absorbed into the stone. The guardian placed it on the ground beside Nihal.
âYour journey, I see, has only begun. Your heart is filled with confusion and terror. Guardians less merciful than I would never have granted you the stone. But never stop seeking, never, or the power will never be yours.â
Then, just as heâd come, the guardian dissolved into a thousand streams of sea water and flooded back into the ocean through the Arshetâs crenels. The monster, too, receded into the shadows, and Nihal was left alone in the immense sanctuary, enveloped in a haunting silence. Hastily, she grabbed the stone, lifted it high in the air, and placed it into its niche, reciting the sacred spell. â Rahhavni sektar aleero .â Her voice trembled.
The stone settled firmly into its place. Nihal sprang to her feet and raced to Sennarâs side.
The sorcerer lay splayed out and face down on the stairwell, his pale hand resting on the slick, black rock.
Nihal rolled him over and began calling his name, but the wan-faced sorcerer made no reply. She called him again and again, louder each time, until her voice caught. âYou promised me you wouldnât die. â¦â she said, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Overcome with despair, she didnât notice when Sennarâs eyes began gradually to open. When at last she turned toward him, she saw his lips curl into a half smile.
âYouâre a little late,â he muttered feebly.
6
Frost
That evening, as they ate, Nihal was unusually frugal with her words. Sennar was struck by the coldness of her manner, the complete opposite of the warmth sheâd demonstrated in the sanctuary. Though it wasnât all that hard for him to imagine why. Heâd lied to her, and pretty soon heâd have to pay the price.
The next morning, they woke at dawn. The first pink rays of sun in the west left Sennar feeling cheerful. Nihal, however, quickly interrupted the idyllic