Page 26 of Apple Boy

And so over the preceding years, the province of Osia was bled dry so that King Emmerich could have his golden capital city of Altea. But no matter what he built, no matter how much he spent on adorning his vision of a golden city, he still could not match the splendor of Serein, because Serein had something Altea did not. Serein had the Star-fall stone, and with it, magic—And—so do we.”

“What?” Adam gasped in disbelief and sat up erect in the bed.

“Yes. What you held in your hand was no shard of glass or a cheap gem. It’s a real, pure shard of Star-fall. The rarest gem in all the Empire, cut from the giant gemstone that once sat atop the Great Council’s tower.” I declared proudly. Adam’s jaw dropped, and he stared at me in wonderment.

“In the twenty years of the reign of Kristoff and Fabian Von Harte, the city of Serein mysteriously lost the Star-fall and its magic, and the province of Osia flourishes once more,” I said, ending my tale.

“So, you wanted to know how we made Fitzwarrin fly through the air, well, this is how we did it—you and me, together.”

“NO!” Adam insisted, and I wondered whether he was rejecting the truth I’d just shared, or exclaiming his amazement.

“YES,” I countered. “Did you ever consider why your father had such a hold over his workers? THIS is why! He used the power of the stone to force his will and so they did his bidding like gentled beasts.”

“Then why didn’t it work on me?”

“I don’t know. You’re special, I guess!” I saw Adam’s cheeks flush.

“Look. When I clasp the gemstone alone, I can force my will on others just like your pa did. I did it at the Journeyman’s Rest, and I did it to our fellow passengers on the road. But I’ve learned that peculiar things happen when I hold the stone and touch you. There is something about you, Adam, and remarkable things happen when we work together. The power of the magic increases. That is what happened to Fitzwarrin. We joined and used the Star-fall together.”

Adam threaded his fingers through his hair anxiously. “I can’t believe I’ve been living with that Star-fall in my home for all of my life. How did my pa not get caught?”

“I don’t think your pa knew what he had, or how to use it properly.” I speculated.

“The Kings alone own all the Star-fall there is and no one—no one is permitted to use sorcery. If the other passengers realize we used it—” Adam continued his mind a whir.

“Yes, the Von Harte’s would stop at nothing to find us and procure this gem.” I sighed. It was not as if we didn’t have enough to worry about!

“Adam. You must remember how it felt when we stopped Fitzwarrin. Think back. You reached out and held my hand—”

“It all happened so fast.” Adam said in a small voice. “Fitzwarrin was just about to stab the driver. I was sure as hell we’d be next. The thought of him hurting you. Gods, my heart felt like it would rip from my chest. And when I reached for you, an’ held your hand it was like I’d plunged into cool water an’ I saw ye there, beneath the water with me—“ Adam’s palms were flat against his chest as if he were trying to keep everything inside from spilling out.

“You were with me,” He said in a whisper, “An’ then I knew everything would be alright.”

The intimacy of Adam’s words made my eyes glaze with tears. I instinctively reached out and gripped his hands.

“That’s what happens when I’m holding the Star-fall, and we touch. We all three fit together and make a circle.” Adam nodded in wonder and understanding. The words I’d just said echoed in my mind. Adam and I fitted together and made something remarkable and powerful occur. That fact in itself left me speechless. I lay my head on Adam’s chest, and he pulled me in close. Neither of us said another word because there were no words for what we now understood to be true. We were destined to meet, meant to be together—fated.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

LUCIEN

After dozing together for a while I moved to reclaim my own space in the expansive bed. Adam smiled with sleepy surrender and then rolled away from me. I’d already learned that Adam had a habit of sleeping curled up like a kitten, whereas I splayed my arms and legs taking up the majority of the bed. I supposed this displayed my privileged upbringing and the fact I’d only ever shared my sleeping space with lovers and after a tumble, I was generally too spent to care who flopped where.

I lay back on the soft feather down and thoughtfully rolled onto my side, turning my back to Adam. I snuck my hand beneath the pillow, and yes, the Star-fall was safely there. I lay in the darkness listening to the sound of Adam’s light snoring, the autumn winds whipping up the leaves in the woodland and rattling at the windows. I drifted off into a fitful sleep.

“Lucien?” An urgent feminine voice called. “Lucien, is that you?”

I awoke in the darkness, my skin prickling with heat and wet with perspiration. I wondered if I’d been overwhelmed by a fever. I had awakened at hearing a voice, and on coming to my senses I was aware of an eerie feeling—someone was standing close by watching me sleep. A nudge of my foot told me that Adam lay silently by my side—and so whoever was there, it was not him. I reached out, groping for the box of sulphur matches. Oddly, they found my hand, rather than my hand finding them. I did not know how I was just relieved they were in my grasp. I sat up and struck a match. The small flame I’d kindled gave form to the bedchamber at the Cleaved Oak Inn. I lit the candle and snuffed the match. The flame grew and danced as if delighted to be given life. Our bedchamber was not as grand as the Journeyman’s Rest, but the bed was a large four-poster, the mattress well-stuffed, and for that I was grateful.

I saw no person, no silhouette of a man, woman or beast lurking in the shadows of our chamber. I sat perplexed, unable to comprehend the voice that woke me or the eerie feeling of being watched. Had it all been a dream? Maybe I’d overdone it with the wine at dinner? It was a rather good Silua Dei summer vintage, and I’d polished off the whole jug alone while Adam looked on wearing a distracted, unimpressed pout.

I was sure I’d heard a woman calling for someone named Lucien, but I did not know if the voice was in my head or had come from somewhere in the hostelry. I listened acutely to the silence, thinking that maybe a guest in the adjoining room was of that name, but I heard nothing but the creaking of timbers as the inn settled for the night. I lay back once again, too unnerved to extinguish the candle. I decided I would let it burn down and give me light until slumber took me once more. I rolled onto my side, closed my eyes, and instinctively pushed my hand under the pillow to check that the Star-fall was beneath my resting head. The gemstone moved of its own accord and found my palm. I wrapped my fingers protectively around it, and a rush of warmth spread through my hand and up my arm.

“Oh, Lucien, my darling boy!” The woman called. My eye’s shot open. The voice was louder, stronger. Where in god’s name was it coming from?

“We’ve waited so long, help us… help us.” The woman pleaded as the Star-fall throbbed in my palm. I sat up sharply and opened my hand to look at the stone. It was the size of half a walnut and held an intaglio etching of a rose thorn. It glowed with a deep red hue and throbbed in time with my heartbeat as if it had somehow become an extension of me. All of a sudden a jolt of what I can only describe as anxiety hit me in the chest. These feelings did not belong to me, of that I was sure. And then with the rush of those troublesome alien feelings came a rising murmuration of voices inside my head. They called at once, sounding like a hive of agitated bees, but they did not buzz. They called for help. They called for “Lucien, Lucien, Lucien.” The mantra rolled over, and over until I could bear it no longer.

I dropped the gemstone onto the coverlet, and at once the chanting ceased. My heart trembled with the twisting turmoil of the fear, longing, pain, and disappointment that the collective of voices had sent to me. I was overwhelmed, shaking, my palms sweaty and my mouth agape with shock.