CHAPTER 45
The thrill of magick is quickly replaced by the familiar sensation of drowning. Before, I had always started in a quiet place with very little to smell or see, and even then it was paralyzing. Here I’m surrounded by dozens of conversations and many more faces, not to mention foods and flowers—some of which I don’t recognize. Even the vibrations of people walking over stones halfway across the plaza are distracting. I close my eyes and pull my hand from Gregor’s to cover my ears, but not wanting to look weak, I only allow myself a few seconds to adjust.
When I force my eyes open again, he’s watching me. He puts the silver chain over his head so the moonstone hangs from his neck again. It rests against his chest, glowing brighter than a candle. “You look overwhelmed,” he says, not a little smugly.
“There’s so much to see and hear.” My gaze drops to the paving stones, yet even those are brilliant in their clarity. “But it’s bearable if I focus on one sense at a time.”
The patronizing tone vanishes. “You can do that? How?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I just concentrate. But it’s easy to be distracted.”
Gregor frowns. “We’ll discuss that later. In the meantime, youcan control your senses another way.” He upends a small leather bag to drop a shiny black stone into his hand. “With this.”
Unlike the moonstones, which cast a welcome glow, or the bloodstone that radiated some invisible force, this one seems to pull light and energy into it, like a hole in the air. I don’t want to touch it.
“We call it voidstone,” Gregor explains, holding it up. “Born deep in the earth in a place no light reaches. It absorbs magick.”
He offers it to me, but I instinctively shy away. “It’s harmless against skin,” he insists. “Only taking what you give it.”
I cautiously accept the stone. “Why would I want to give up my magick?”
“Think of it as only lighting the rooms you’re using in a house.” Gregor gestures to a pair of women working a loom. “The weavers need to see and feel well for their task, but other senses aren’t as helpful, so they extinguish them.”
I turn the voidstone over in my fingers, feeling the beveled edges I strangely cannot see. Though it reminds me of glass more than anything else, I’ve never seen any so dark and opaque. “But in this case,” I say, “every candle in the house is lit, and you’re putting out the ones you don’t want.”
“Yes.” He smiles, amused. “Except only Hadrians use fire for light.”
I ignore his disdain. “Can you move the light from one room to another, or must you relight them all to change senses?” My metaphors are mixing, but Gregor understands.
“The latter.” He motions to the sky. “But you need only look at the moon to regain them. Your eyes are like windows which let the light back in.”
A couple hurries past us, giggling and holding hands, pausing to kiss in the doorway of a house. I flush as the woman opens the door and drags the young man inside with her. Gregor furtherembarrasses me by saying, “I imagine they’ve shed everything but touch.”
What would it have been like to have kissed Simon like that? I face the reflecting pool, certain no one would need magick to see my flaming cheeks. “Doesn’t it go away as soon as they’re in shadow?”
Gregor taps the moonstone under his throat. “As long as you have one of these, you’re in moonlight.” He tucks the pendant back under his shirt. “And like moonlight, you must be touching the stone for it to provide more than just illumination. Silver conducts magick as well as blood, so most Selenae wear it as some kind of jewelry.”
That explains why Gregor saw just fine in the pitch-black alley. I thrill at the idea of never having to be in the dark. “So with it, you always have the senses you would in moonlight?”
“Not quite, but well enough. And a stone’s power fades over time.”
The one in my hand creates a question. “What happens if you touch a moonstone to a voidstone?”
“Just what you’d expect—all the magick is immediately drained from the moonstone. That’s why we carry them in different places.” Gregor pulls up a sleeve to reveal a thumbnail-size voidstone set in a silver bracelet. “Some swear completely emptying a moonstone before refilling it makes it last longer.”
“I’ve done experiments,” says Athene as she approaches us from behind. “But they were inconclusive.” She nods to me. “Your friend is sleeping now.”
“Thank you. I’ll make sure you’re paid as the architect promised.”
“Unnecessary.” She waves her hand dismissively. “We owe him a debt for your care over the last few years.”
“The moonstone,” Gregor says impatiently.
I turn back to him. “Yes, you were saying they can be refilled with magick. How do you do that? Put them in moonlight?”
Gregor nods. “That works, but setting them in the pond is faster.”
“Something about the water bending the light to fill it from all sides,” adds Athene. She plainly thinks deeper on the hows and whys of magick. “Bloodstones are basically the same, though the veins of iron within somehow hold the magick close.” She raises her eyebrows at Gregor. “Has she passed all your tests?”