“Which reminds me. Laz said you told him that he owned the crystal in a former life. He certainly did—as Alastyr.”

“Yes, I know, that was a nasty slip on my part. I’ll have to think of a way to tell him without evoking that life in his mind.”

“Good luck! Better you than I.” Salamander hefted the crystal. “Shall I give this to Valandario?”

“By all means. It rightfully belongs to her.”

Valandario was sitting in her tent, studying an array of her scrying gems, when Salamander called to her from outside.

“Oh, esteemed teacher, may I enter?”

“Yes, certainly.”

Salamander ducked under the tent flap and came in, carrying something wrapped in what looked like an old shirt. Val smiled at him, then began picking up the gems and putting them back into their pouch. He hunkered down and waited until she’d finished.

“I brought this back to you.” Salamander laid the bundle down in front of her. “It’s the black crystal. I know you asked me to smash it, but it occurred to me that you might enjoy doing it yourself.”

“Most likely I will,” Val said. “My thanks.”

She unrolled the wrapping—indeed, an old shirt—and set the crystal down on the tent cloth between them. At the moment it appeared so ordinary, just a carved bit of obsidian, she wondered if it were the correct crystal. Salamander supplied the evidence without being asked.

“Every time I look into it,” he said, “I see Haen Marn and Evandar.”

“That seems to be its one power,” Val said. “I wonder why Loddlaen wanted it so badly.”

“Doubtless he didn’t know how limited it is, and besides, he was fetching it for the man called Alastyr.”

Val nodded. She was remembering Jav, laughing at some jest as they walked together down by the ocean. With a shake of her head, she banished the memory.

“Well, what to do with it?” Val said briskly. “I’d enjoy smashing it to bits, certainly, but since we don’t truly understand this bit of work, I’m hesitant. Besides, it doesn’t seem evil to me, now that I look at it.”

“Was the crystal evil, or was it the lust for the crystal that brought the evil?”

“A very good point.” With a sigh, Val wrapped the black stone up again in the shirt. “Well, I’ll keep it for a few days at least, to study its emanations. Evandar’s little gifts—by the Black Sun, how much trouble they’ve caused! The rose ring, this crystal, and now that wretched book.”

Some words they had, for dealing with those, either spiritfolk or fleshfolk, who knew Elvish words, but among themselves, the spirits of the dragon book used shape and color to convey what thoughts they needed to share. Some leaped up in long ice-blue lines, others agreed in a dim blue glow: danger, terrible danger, despite the smothering dark around the book they guarded.