“I was told that you can provide what I require to enter the Tournament.”
“Where do you keep all that?” Ben asked with some amazement when Sol tossed a small pouch onto the table in the middle of the tent that took up most of the space.
The Eagle King did not answer, as Zai expected. He was entirely focused on his task to enter the competition.
“You do not have to do this, you know,” the old woman said, finally turning around to face them.
“It will change nothing.”
Sol shook his head once, with finality.
“It does not concern you. Give me what I need.”
“Wait!” Ben cut in.
“What do you mean it will change nothing?” he asked of the old woman.
“If Sol doesn’t enter the Tournament, will the future turn out exactly the same?”
The woman slid thoughtful eyes toward Ben.
Zai could still not make out the color, but they glittered intently. Though the gaze wasn’t threatening, it still made Zai’s shorthairs stand on end.
“What a strange question, child,” she said. “Who can tell the future? Not I.”
“But…” Ben frowned.
“You must be the Gray Witch Eveline told me about. You’re the one who engraved the runes into Sorin’s side.”
She tilted her head a little, considering.
“That is naught but a little rhyme I like to sing. It is hardly a prediction of things to come.”
“A queen becomes Queen
A slave becomes Mate
A King falls in flames
A winner loses in games
A queen gives way
A Mate displaced
A Champion reborn
A King transformed.
A stone heart in fire
A soul dances higher
When True Love reveals
And old wounds heal.”
Ben uttered the verses almost like a chant.