Reka lay on his bed, wishing he could get warm. Brother Mark had assured him that the thorn tree infection was gone and that his body was just getting used to the idea, but he could not seem to shake this fever. He was finishing his last bite of overly salted bacon when a knock came at his door. He barked a quick, “Come!” The man that came in was none other than the defacto magistrate.

“Good day, mister, ah, Reka, sir.” He said nervously.

“Yes,” Reka replied tersely.

“Well, ah, sir ya wanted me ta let ya know if I found anything, I mean ta say when that man, you know, did his business and all.”

“Yes,” Reka said again.

“Well, sir, I found something.” He held out his hand.

Reka looked up in excitement, the first excitement he had felt in days. In the man’s hand was a large oval gem. It had red, and orange swirls inside that almost seemed smoky. He jumped up and snatched the stone from the man’s trembling hand.

“I take it this is what ya were lookin’ for.” The man said happily.

“What’s your name?” Reka asked.

“Jonas, sir.”

“Have you told anyone about this, Jonas? Anyone at all?”

“Oh no sir, I ain't likely ta tell people I’ve been rootin’ around in some other man’s awful. It ain't proper.”

“Good,” Reka said. “Very good. Make sure you do not change your mind on this.”

He handed Jonas a few coins and sat back down. This was indeed a disaster averted, he thought. Now all he had to do was figure out how to proceed from here. If only he could shake this fever, he could be useful. Then it hit him. The fever was gone. Excellent, he thought. If he left Aedon to teach the girl, he would have almost three weeks to tend to other business and still be ‘healed’ in the time Brother Mark had expected. He needed to go see the man.

“I will not lie for you,” Brother Mark said after Reka explained the situation.

“You do not understand,” Reka said. “This is something I need, and I need for certain people to assume I have not left. The consequences could be very severe.”

Brother Mark chuckled. “You don’t intimidate me. I know your reputation around here. You’ve spent the last days bullying anyone that doesn’t do your bidding. Well, I can’t be bullied. The only weapon you have against me is my death, and I promise you, that holds no fear over me.”

Reka calmed himself. He had become a bit of a bully. Many of the people deserved it, but not this man.

“I am asking for a favor.” He said.

“And I will not lie,” Brother Mark replied. “Whatever is so important that you must leave to accomplish it must be important enough to risk being found out.”

“Will you at least promise not to say anything unless asked?”

“You have my word,” Brother Mark said.

The desk Reka now sat behind was massive and ornate. The Blackwood it was comprised of was native to the northernmost reaches of Ard and a piece as large as this must have cost a fortune. With the natural distrust between the provinces and the utter lack of trade between them, it could only have been smuggled into Dilis. The opulence sickened him. He knew that Gregory liked his comforts, but this was going too far, he thought. It was unlikely that he would be called to task for his illegal ornamentation, even given the strictness with which Jillian ruled Cathair, but it was an unnecessary risk. More importantly, it was contrary to the orders he had given. He set the desk’s contents to one side and waited. This would be a teachable moment.

Even accounting for his bulky cargo, the trip to Cathair had been swift. It needed to be. That cargo now sat on the floor beside him. Try as he might, he could not discover any way to open the mysterious box. He had theories, but he wanted Gregory to look it over and get his take. As much as he disliked the man, he was intelligent and powerful. It still exuded copious amounts of magic, but nothing as overwhelming as when he was on that hilltop. The thing enthralled him, and he desperately needed to solve the puzzle. In the meantime, he would have to content himself with other endeavors.

He picked up a small stack of papers he had discovered while freeing the desk of its burdens. They were reports from several of the order’s operatives, and they did not tell a hopeful tale. Much of the information he knew, but the breach of The Shield intrigued him. As much because he was not informed of it as the fact that it had happened at all. Other reports stood out. The loss of another contact near the Gorge, the rumors of building armies, and other less disturbing bits of information, none of which were included in the messages Gregory had sent him. Again, against his explicit orders.

Disobeying his orders seemed to have become a favorite pastime of Gregory. He would have made this trip regardless, but Alexis’ tale of Ulf’s treatment made it more unavoidable. He knew he was too altruistic, but he hated how Gregory had perverted his communication stone, and the fact that he was still placing loyalty stones in people infuriated him. They were a council, but Reka was first. He heard voices and set the papers aside. The door opened, and Gregory entered with two men. When he saw Reka, he stopped short.

“Reka, what an unexpected surprise,” he said cheerily.

“Doubtless,” Reka replied. “May I have a few moments of your time?”

Gregory turned to the two men and motioned for them to leave. Reka recognized them as members of Cathair’s ruling body.

“Of course,” Gregory said. “I see you have taken a liking to my desk.”

“It’s magnificent. Not exactly legal, though, is it?” Reka said.

“There are many definitions of legal,” Gregory replied, taking the seat opposite Reka. “To what do I owe this visit?”

“Alexis,” Reka answered.

“Did the little girl run to papa and tell on mean old Gregory?”

Reka slapped his hand on the desk. “Do not trivialize this! You were told to stop placing those stones in people.”

“And you were told,” Gregory shot back, “that the council agrees with me. We need a way to control our members. You may be first, but you are not the king.”

“Be that as it may,” Reka retorted, “but you WILL stop using those stones, even if I have to ensure it personally. And you will stop treating members of this order as though you own them.”

Gregory yawned. “These conversations grow tiresome. Have you really come back to waste your sanctimony on me? If so, don’t bother. I do not have the time.”

“Sometimes, Gregory,” Reka said disgustedly, “I wonder what side you are really on.”

“You know very well what side I am on,” Gregory said. “I am on my side. Our mission is an important one and one I hold to, but I will not live my life in self-righteous squalor just because you do. I see no reason not to take advantage of the privileges that come with power.”

“You have always been more arrogant than wise,” Reka said. “But no, I did not come here to, as you put it, waste my sanctimony on you. I came here for your help.”

Gregory leaned forward. “And you thought ambushing me in my office would be a good way to ask for it?”

“No, I did that for the sheer pleasure of it. As you say, power has its privileges. Now, tell me why I had to root through your papers for the information you should have already told me.”

Gregory glanced at the stack of reports. Reka enjoyed the look of outrage on his face.

“I did not deem the information to be credible,” Gregory said.

“Not credible enough to tell me, but enough so that you had Michael interrogate Alexis on the matter?” Reka asked calmly.

“Does it matter now,” Gregory said. “You have the information.”

Reka allowed him to deflect the question. It did not really matter aside from reminding him that he had withheld it. There were other, more important things to discuss. He leaned over and hefted the box onto the desk.

“Have a look at this.” He said.

He allowed Gregory to examine it without comment. His scrutiny lasted only a moment, though.

“It is a box,” he said.

“Gifted as I am with intelligence,” Reka said, “I managed to figure that out for myself. Can you tell how to open it?”

Gregory adopted a bored expression. “Have you tried a large hammer? Perhaps Alexis’ friend with the table leg can smash it open for you.”

“Is there anything you take seriously?” Reka asked.

“A great many things,” Gregory replied, “just not you. Is this why you came, then, to have me look at a box?”

Reka’s patience was at an end. “You forget, old friend, that I too know the secret of the stones. Persist in this, and I will relieve you of yours and take it for myself.”

He clutched his own stone and prepared himself. Gregory was powerful but not nearly so much as himself. They would likely take the building with them if they confronted one another, but Reka was confident that it would be he that was still alive at the end of it. He watched as Gregory did the mental arithmetic.

“You would not dare,” he shouted.

“I would not only dare,” Reka said, “but I would enjoy it. Do not think this has never before crossed my mind. Now, look at the box.” He growled.

It seemed Gregory was unwilling to test his resolve. It was kind of a shame. He pointed to the box, and Gregory stood to examine it this time. He traced his fingers along the words inscribed on it, and then over every inch of the surface.

“Where did you find this?” He asked with some interest.

“It was buried inside a hill on Aedon’s land,” Reka said.

“Was there anything special about this hill?” Gregory asked, still tracing his fingers along the wood.

Reka stood and placed his hand on the box as well. “It was saturated in magic. More than I have ever felt.”

“Interesting,” Gregory whispered. “The wood appears to be still alive. It is almost as the box was grown around whatever it may contain. And the words are quite telling as well.”

Reka did not say anything. He had these same thoughts and was confident the box was a remnant of the fall of Talamn Rí. What he truly wanted to know was how to open the thing.

“Have you found the stone?” Gregory asked suddenly.

“No,” Reka answered simply.

“You must find it,” Gregory said.

“You think it is the key?” Reka asked.

“Think, Reka. You believe you have traced Jaralth’s line to this farm. This box was created with a process for which Domhain is uniquely suited, and the hill you found it in was saturated in more magic than you have ever witnessed.” Gregory paused. “We also know that Jarlath was the last advisor to leave the king’s chamber after his death. Then there is the inscription to consider.”

Reka looked up from the box. “Surely you are not suggesting what I think you are.”

“It makes sense,” Gregory said. “We know that Jarlath was a loyal advisor, maybe the only loyal advisor. Who better to have taken it?”

“And when he did,” Reka said, continuing Gregory’s line of thought, “he created a case that only he could open.”

When he finished speaking, he stood silent and stared at the box. Gregory seemed no less awed because he did the same. Could it be that Coroin Na Beatha was in this room with them at this very moment? Gregory broke the silence.

“How do you plan to proceed?” He asked.

“I am going to need to go back into that swamp,” Reka said with some hesitance.

“And what then?”

“I do not know,” Reka said. “I thought perhaps you might join me. With you along, the water, at least, would prove no difficulty.”

Gregory barked a laugh. “Do you honestly think I am going to traipse around in a filthy swamp with you?”

“You said, yourself, we need to find the stone,” Reka said dismayed.

“No,” Gregory replied, “I said you need to find it. Even if I had the time, I do not have the inclination.”

“Then what do I do?” Reka asked. He was almost pleading. “Aside from finding this box, my last attempt went very badly.”

Gregory placed a finger under his chin. “Use the girl,” he said.

“You mean Mika? What can she do?” Reka asked.

“You are still not thinking, Reka. You know how magic works. It is a will without a consciousness. If this girl is one of us, as you say, then the stone will seek her out. The stones do not tolerate being unmastered.”

“I don’t know,” Reka said. “That swamp is too dangerous. She could be hurt. I nearly died.”

“And what of it?” Gregory quipped. “What is this girl to you that her death is more important than the stone?”

“You place too little value on life, Gregory. Mika does not have to be anything to me to make her life worth preserving.” Reka shot back. He was not about to tell Gregory, of all people, how he felt about Mika. “What about me,” he asked. “Why can’t I sense the stone?”

“Because you are not a Halloran,” Gregory answered. “Any of the six may use any of the stones. We know this from our own experience, but the stones do have natural masters.”

Reka thought back to his interrogation of Toad. He had felt something, now that he took the time to reflect on it. And when Jonas had brought the stone back to him, had his fever left him before or after he had possession of it again? He did not want to use Mika, but this was why he had come to see Gregory, for advice.

“Use the girl,” Gregory said when Reka failed to respond. “She will lead you to the stone if it is there.”

He wrapped the box back in the cloth he had carried it with. Gregory was right, but he did not have to like it. Now it was time for Gregory to experience something he would not like.

“I want you to get rid of that desk,” he said, walking to the door. “It is too risky to have around.”

Gregory looked back at his masterpiece. With a smile, he said, “Of course, you are the first.”

“It does look cumbersome, though,” Reka said with a wicked smile. “Let me help you with it.”

He extended one finger, and the desk burst into flames. Gregory jumped back and watched helplessly as it burned to ash. When it was consumed, Reka made a fist, and the fire disappeared.

“Have a good day,” he said, leaving the enraged Gregory behind.