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
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
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