With that precaution out of the way, Seregil began the equally unpleasant task of finding and cutting open the stomach. It was a nasty, slimy, noxious job, but in the end he had his reward. A soft glow was visible through the rotted viscera and he used the dagger to lift it out—it was the black opal, crosshatched with incised spells, just as Alec had described.

Wrapping it thickly in a square of chamois, he pocketed it then wiped his hands and knife on the grass. Micum reburied the body.

“That was a good night’s work,” Micum said when he was done.

“If I don’t wash my hands and face I’m going to die,” Seregil said, trying not to gag.

They walked down to the water and Seregil stripped off coat and shirt and washed his arms up to the shoulder with handfuls of wet gravel, then dunked his head in the water, heedless of the stitches. When he was reasonably sure that he’d taken care of any nastiness he squeezed the water from his hair, lay back on the gravel above the waterline, and tried not to think about anything but the stars overhead.

“Are you not going to die now?” Micum asked, scrubbing his hands in the water.

“I think so, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to eat again.”

Micum regarded him with a grin. “That hairstyle of yours reminds me of some of the rough characters we fought up in the Wolf Fang Pass years back. Remember them? They carried off that look well, but you don’t.”

Seregil flipped him a rude gesture, then accepted Micum’s hand and let him help him onto his feet.

“What about the stone?” asked Micum. “Are you going to wash it?”

“No, I’m not touching it again, after what happened to that poor bastard I just cut it from. Thero will know what to do with it. I hope.”

Chapter 26: Old Sorrows

RHAZAT’S patience and hospitality had worn thin after Mika disappeared in a blaze of red light and force that had knocked both of them across the cave. Rhazat had been the first to recover. Pulling Klia up by her hair, she’d screamed at her, demanding to know what magic she’d used to make the child disappear.

“Illior’s love, I expect.” Klia laughed, relieved beyond measure. Either Mika had gone back to their own plane, or he was dead and beyond the dyrmagnos’s torments.

Rhazat dragged her back to the glowing stone. “Break it!” she hissed, showing her true colors at last, if not her true face. “Break it or I will have my monsters tear the child from your womb.”

“That won’t make me comply,” Klia replied, fighting down her terror at the prospect. “Kill us both now and be done with it. Stay here forever and rot!”