Page 27 of Beholden
Vilmar’s fingers fumbled as he pressed the linen to his head.
I crawled over to Ty and touched the pulse in his neck. At the steady rhythm, I released a tense breath. He was still alive. Probing his scalp, I found several deep gashes. I ripped more of my chemise and tied bandages around his head and one around a gouge in his arm. After arranging him carefully, I returned to Vilmar. Blood saturated the linen at his head, so I tore another piece of my undergarment and laid it against his cut.
Vilmar’s eyes eased open. “How is Ty?”
“His injuries are worse than yours, but I have stopped the bleeding.”
“Thank you.”
“I should be the one thanking you. If not for your protection, I would be hurt too.” As I tied the new bandage around his head, his blue eyes peered up at me, full of concern. I loved his eyes, so piercing and yet so tender at the same time.
“Can you tell how much rubble is blocking our exit?”
Through the haze, I once again attempted to assess the tunnel. Our situation was dire. But I couldn’t tell Vilmar that. “I am sure the others will be working on the other side to clear away the rocks and aid our escape.”
“It’s that bad?”
It would take us hours to clear a path. Before we were free, our torch would likely burn down to nothing and leave us in the dark as easy prey for the rats. The image of Molly’s empty sleeve hanging listlessly brought a lump of fear into my throat, but I swallowed it. “I shall begin removing the stones.”
Though his expression contorted with frustration, he didn’t protest as I rose. He likely knew that every minute of clearing away the debris could mean the difference between life and death.
I bent and picked up the nearest stone. At the scrape of a rock next to me, I paused to see Vilmar hunched over and lifting away a large stone.
“Vilmar. You are in no condition to stand, much less exert yourself.”
He swayed, and I grabbed his arm to keep him from toppling.
“Once I get moving, I shall be fine.” He lobbed the stone onto a heap near the end of the drift.
We worked for several moments in silence until he sighed. “Why? Why all this work in the mines when so few gems remain? It’s such a waste of time, not to mention a waste of so many lives.”
“The new gems grow again after Midsummer’s Eve.”
“Grow again?” He scoffed. “Gems don’t grow again. Once they’re gone, the mine must be abandoned.”
“Then why have slaves mined the Gemstone Mountains for years and never ceased to find them?”
“Why, indeed?” He tossed another rock.
Did I dare tell Vilmar the dark secret that had been my father’s undoing? The real reason the queen never ran out of jewels in the Gemstone mines?
I glanced at Ty and then back at Vilmar. I hadn’t told the secret to a single soul, not even to Benedict or Alice. I hadn’t wanted to put anyone else in the same danger my father had experienced.
Yet, if I failed to kill Grendel and so failed to put an end to the queen’s evil tradition of sacrificing a maiden, then someone else needed to know the secret. Vilmar was a man of honor, and perhaps he’d find a way to kill Grendel in my stead.
Before I could quell my misgivings, I forced myself to tell him. “The queen has the white stone, and her alchemists have discovered how to use it.”
He halted lifting another stone midmotion. “The white stone? For making gold?”
All throughout history, alchemists had been attempting to make gold. Recipes, secret potions, cryptic codes, and legends had been circulating for centuries. The white stone—also known as the philosopher’s stone—was one such legend. In fact, some claimed it was the most important ingredient in the alchemy process.
Apparently, Vilmar had heard tales of the white stone. Did he believe in its miraculous powers? That it held properties capable of transforming the simple into the extraordinary?
“My father, as a close advisor to King Alfred, was present when the king gave the white stone to his daughter Margery and three keys for an ancient treasure to his daughter Leandra. With the white stone in her possession, Queen Margery became obsessed and called every alchemist and philosopher in the Great Isle and beyond to assist her in unlocking the secrets of the stone. And they have been laboring for years.”
“And now they have succeeded?”
“They did not discover how to make gold. Rather, utilizing ancient formulas, they learned all the ingredients necessary to combine with the white stone to create jewels.”
