The Elemental Jewels (Book 1) (9 page)

Grab them, quickly, before their light goes out!
The voice spoke urgently to him.

Grange threw the lump of stone aside as he lunched forward.  He banged his knee against a loose stone, a painful impact, but he ignored the pain, motivated by the extreme urgency he heard in the voice of his unseen companion.  His hand fit into the hole he had created by pulling the stone loose, and he bent low to peer into the hole around his hand as his fingers entered the small cavity that rested behind the wall.

His fingertips touched something cool and smooth, then something else.  He looked down and saw that he held two small jewels, a red one and a blue one.  There were others still resting on the chamber floor – a black one, a white one, and a green one.  The light was fading quickly now, as his nimble fingers snatched up the others, and he tried to look for any others before the light in the pocket disappeared completely.

“I got five.  Is that all of them?” he asked the voice.

That is all,
the voice concurred.

“Who are you?” he was suddenly worried about who – or what – was directing him in this unfathomable occurrence.

I am a Spirit, one of the powers of the world, created by the Creator at the beginning, helping to guide as His laws allow
, the voice replied.

“Are you good or bad?” Grange wanted to know.  It was a stupid question, he knew, because he had no way to judge.  There would be no proof.

I and the Creator believe I am good
, the voice sounded amused.

“What happens now?” the boy asked.

You will go out.  You will do good things; the world is going to need you, for you are uniquely qualified.  You will learn many things from these jewels.  And I hope that you will survive and succeed, for your sake, and for the sake of all the peoples of this land,
the voice answered gravely.

“I’m not even allowed to leave this tunnel,” Grange said.  “The guards won’t let me.

“What does the world need for me to do?” he asked.

You will discover the needs of the world in time.  And you shall go out through the end of the tunnel that the guards are not watching,
his instructor explained.

“There’s only one entrance, and the guards watch it all the time, don’t they?” Grange wanted to know.

You will create a second entrance.  With the jewels, you will drive the tunnel all the way north through the mountain, as it is planned to go anyway, and in the direction that you need to go for now,
in any event, the voice spoke confidently.

“Drive the tunnel?  You mean these stones can dig the canal tunnel?  How long with that take?” Grange asked in disbelief.

You measure time in hours?
the voice asked. 
Yes, hours.  A few hours to go to the other side of the mountain.  From there you can go north to escape this place, and commence the rest of your education.

“None of this makes any sense, except as a dream,” Grange stammered.  “I must be dreaming.” He sat down on a large lump of stone, disturbed by unfathomable events that he seemed to be experiencing.  “This must be a dream.”

The jewels, they must bond to you
, the Spirit told him.

“What do you mean?” he asked the incorporeal voice.

The stones must bond to you, to draw from you, to obey you, to teach you, to protect you, to help you, and to always be with you,
the Spirit explained. 
Where do you wish to have them?

“I have no idea,” he replied.

Turn your arm over, and place them on it
, the voice commanded.

Grange pulled his sleeve up, and did as instructed.  He extended his left arm, then carefully deposited the unseen jewels in a line up the inside of his forearm, unable to discern the colors of the stones as he placed them atop his skin in the darkness.

Now hold still.  No matter what you feel, don’t move,
the Spirit said firmly.

His arm suddenly felt warm.  The stones began to dimly glow, tiny sparks inside the heart of each gem twinkling and slowly growing.  The warmth began to rapidly escalate, turning to heat, then to a painful roasting.

“It hurts,” Grange exclaimed.  “Make it stop.”

You must have the strength to withstand and wait,
the Spirit said. 
Be steady. It is the bonding, and it is a test.

The pain increased, and so did the light in the jewels.  They suddenly flared with a bright illumination while they inflicted their hot pain upon his flesh.  He felt his arm starting to quiver, and he closed his eyes tightly as he concentrated on holding the arm still, resisting the temptation to shake it free of the painful stones that were hurting him for no reason he understood.

Hockis had always told Garrel and him that patience was the supreme virtue, that sometimes a good pickpocket would have to wait for hours to see the best opportunity to make a heist, and that even when the conditions were cold or rainy or crowded or otherwise terrible, a successful practitioner would have to stand their duty, even in the most unpleasant but useful place, in order to reap the rewards.  Grange focused on that cynical, self-serving message and tried to apply it to the otherworldly experience he was enduring.

The jewels seemed to give one brilliant flare of light, so bright that he experienced it through his shut eyelids, and then suddenly the pain, and the heat, and the light were gone.  Grange stood still in the darkness, breathing heavily in relief from the cessation of the pain for several seconds.

“Grange? Are you okay?”  Garrel’s voice echoed along the tunnel, the words difficult to understand as they reverberated atop one another over their long, ricocheting journey towards Grange.

He heard the sound of footsteps behind him.  When he turned, he saw a torch light bobbing towards him, as Garrel came running.

Hide the jewels
, the voice said. 
It is not time to reveal them yet.

He grabbed with his right hand at the stones that sat on his left arm.  His fingertips swept over the surface of his skin, finding no stones as they touched upon a series of smooth bumps along the lines of his veins.

“Where are they?” he asked the voice.

“Grange, is everything alright?” Garrel asked again as he drew nearer.  His running pace slowed to a quick walk upon spotting Grange standing in the tunnel.

They will be with you for as long as you and they exist, now
, the Spirit answered. 
Hide them
. 
Let them grow used to you.  We will discuss more when they have measured you.

“What was that flash of light?” Garrel asked as he arrived.

Grange pushed his sleeve back down to his wrist before he spoke.

“I can’t tell you,” he answered.  “But everything is alright now.”

“That was something!  I saw it from halfway down the tunnel,” Garrel said.  “But it wasn’t a tunnel gas explosion, or you wouldn’t be here.  You didn’t notice anything?  You didn’t do anything?”

“I was just here making rocks for you to haul away,” Grange answered.

“Well, it’s almost the end of the day anyway.  Let’s go get our dinner and settle in for the night,” Garrel suggested.

Together, they walked down the tunnel to where there was a shift of workers finishing up for the day, the most people Grange had seen together since entering the cave.  The two gathered their dinners, Garrel exchanged his torch for a candle, and then they returned to the dead end of the tunnel, where they ate and talked; or rather, Garrel talked a great deal, though Grange said little.  His mind was too preoccupied with the extraordinary wonder of his experience with the spirit and the gems.

When the candle went out and the two of them laid down in the darkness, Grange felt too excited to sleep, and he lay in the darkness for what seemed an interminable time.

Go to sleep,
the voice in the tunnel whispered. 
Sleep, and let the jewels come to understand you, so that they learn how best to serve you.

As if on command, he felt himself relax and grow drowsy, and then he began to slumber.  As he slept, his mind whirled through what seemed to be a thousand strange dreams.  He dreamed of Hockis and Lurinda.  He dreamed of Matey and the woman with the green emerald brooch.  He dreamed of seeing the sun, and of watching the water flow in the river bed, and of the feel of the wind on his skin.  His dreams returned to the emeralds, over and over again, surprising him as he realized how many details he had memorized about the stones and the golden brooch that held them.

And then he awoke, when he heard Garrel stir.

“Time for another day,” his friend said as he pushed his blanket aside and pulled his boots on.

“Don’t make any more underground flashes of light to scare me,” the boy laughed in the darkness, and then he was gone, on his way to return to the front of the tunnel where the beginning of the day’s labors waited for him.

Grange let his right hand drift over to his left arm, and he began to run his fingertips lightly along the inside of his arm.  The warm skin of his flesh seamlessly transitioned to the slightly raised small mounds of the jewels, now at the same temperature as his arm, seemingly incorporated into his body.

Don’t play with them,
the voice in the tunnel scolded him. 
Go to the end of the tunnel and use them to open the way through the mountain.

“How do I use them?  Will they swing the pick for me?” Grange asked sarcastically as he started to stand.

Do not take these stones lightly.  They have chosen to be with you as they emerge into the light, to battle for the light.  They have studied you.  Now they are about to begin your tutorial,
the Spirit’s voice admonished him.

Grange shivered at the tone of the words as he walked to the end of the tunnel and picked up the pick.

We will work together
, a different sensation touched the tendrils of his thoughts.  It was not the voice of the Spirit, he knew.  It was not a sound.  It was something different – a communication that was something like a feeling, or a perception, or maybe a response. 
Fire and wind and stone
, he felt the concept.  Or maybe it was light and air and earth – they were concepts, not words.  And yet there were words too – strange, musical words he didn’t understand, from a language he’d never heard before.

How do you work together?
He let his thought form.

We do this
, came a thought, one that was an image, or maybe it was a concept, or perhaps an intuitive leap.  He wasn’t sure.  He felt unsettled – he couldn’t tell if he was thinking or responding or sensing or something else.  There was a blurring of his identity.

He was suddenly aware of the idea of great heat and energy being applied to the stone wall in front of him.  He found that his vision didn’t exist, and he forced himself to re-engage his vision; he had been so absorbed by what was occurring within his soul that he had lost all awareness of what was outside.  He looked in front of him as his eyes came back to providing images, and he saw only the black wall of stone a few feet ahead of him.  Nothing had happened.  The heat had not occurred.

We showed you what can happen, not what has happened
, the thought was in his brain in response to his discovery.

“Stop!” he spoke out loud.  “What is happening?  Who’s doing the thinking in my brain?”

You and the stones are becoming acquainted.  You are becoming acclimated to one another
, the Spirit’s voice replied, and he was glad to hear it.  He realized with a fearful lurch that the sound of a bodiless voice in the darkness felt like a step back towards sanity.

“I am Grange.  I want to be Grange.  I want to think my own thoughts, not someone else’s!” he said loudly.

You will.  Just learn how to co-exist with them,
the Spirit said.

You are you.  We are we
, the thought simultaneously responded.

This, now learn.  Do this
, the thought made him know that he could manipulate energy from the stones.  He knew that he had to raise his left arm, and his right hand searched for the stones in his flesh, then touched three of them simultaneously.  He was calling upon fire and air and earth, answering the stones while calling upon the stones and activating the stones and hosting the stones and somehow he was engaging with them in a way that no words could describe, and his left hand glowed as a stream of power flew out of it, striking the stone wall in front of him.

Chips of stone went flying, and Grange shut off his energy as he was painfully pelted with a shower of hard, sharp stone fragments and a blast of reflected heat.

“I’m going to step back,” he felt compelled to explain.  He brushed his hands up and down his body, knocking the stone chips loose, then walked backward several yards.

He looked at the tunnel end again, and focused on the awareness within him, as he placed his right hand on his left arm again, and found the correct combination of jewels – light and air and stone.  They were concepts, not words – concepts of ideas, of perfections, of ideals that were too large and great for mere words to accurately describe, unless the echoes of the strange, musical words were descriptive as they faintly played in his mind.  But he knew what they were, and he knew what the stones had shown him how to do, and he felt the energy waiting for him to call upon it, to coax it out once again.