Silver at Midnight: A Paranormal Romance Urban Fantasy (The Keepers of Knowledge Series Book 5) by Bridgette O'Hare (reading books for 4 year olds txt) 📗

I had a pure soul when we stood to request entry into the ruins, what she meant and how it might fit in with this, I don’t know.”

I perked up. “She told me I was a pure heart. Has to be something t’ that . . . since there are no coincidences and all.” I shot him a cheeky grin.

“Mock me if ya want, but I think this is pretty convincing proof.”

“Goin’ t’ need some elaboration on that.”

“Well, if you’re a pure heart and I’m a pure soul, the ‘two in one together’—that would be us, in case ya were wonderin’—ought to be able to reveal what’s been concealed. Ya know . . . if I’m right.”

“And how are we s’posed to make that happen?”

“Not sure,” he huffed. “Push together?” He was grasping at straws.

I threw my hands up. “What’ve we got t’ lose? I don’t have any other ideas.”

I placed my hand over one side of the crossed swords and waited for Cian to follow suit. The moment his hand connected with the stone we didn’t push . . . because the glyph began to glow and vibrate beneath our touch. In the time it took to widen our eyes, the stone pushed back toward us and opened like a drawer.

“Umm . . . should we remove our hands? Or will it close if we do?” I whispered.

“No idea,” Cian responded in the same hushed tone. “Also, why are we whispering?”

“Seemed like the thing to do,” I whispered back.

His head rocked back and forth and that adorable half-smirk I had a love-hate thing for played on his lips. “Just reach in the drawer and see if there’s anything there,” he urged in a normal tone.

“What if it’s a trap? Why do I have t’ do it?”

“Because I have the mystical arrow in one hand, and you won’t let me take the other off this stone.”

“Fine. But if it’s a trap—”

“I know CPR. It’ll be a’ight. Go on.”

Lips pressed hard together, I cut my eyes at him and reached my free hand over and into the opening. I felt around until the tips of my fingers grazed the edge of something I couldn’t quite reach. Pushing up onto my tiptoes to fully grasp it, I pulled a small wood box from the stone drawer. Once I was in the clear, I removed my hand from the stone bearing the crossed swords and it immediately slid back into place. I gave Cian an I-told-you-so scowl.

“So . . . is it the Kanna Stone? Open it up,” he urged.

With a heavy exhale, I loosed the clasp on the box and lifted the lid. There was a stone inside.

Thirty-Two

While the object possessed the characteristics of the Kanna Stone, it wasn’t the right color—at least, not according to the Keeper’s journal I’d studied. The substance of the stone was both light and ethereal but also heavy like it held the weight of the world. Rubbing my thumb over the seemingly smooth surface only added to the mystifying nature of the stone—it wasn’t smooth at all. The texture was coarse and jagged, but I had read something about the Kanna Stone having a strange texture. So, not a total shocker there. Still, something wasn’t adding up; everything about it—the color, weight, and texture—contradicted itself.

“Shouldn’t this be reddish?” I asked Cian. “I distinctly remember the journal saying it was reddish in color and even morphed t’ a deeper shade of red when used. This is more of a blueish silver.”

He held his hand out and I placed the stone in his palm. He rolled it around a few times, examining it from different sides. His expression washed blank followed by a sudden realization. “The Stone of Two Brothers,” he voiced almost disbelieving of his own words.

“Wait. So, you’re saying this is the Hébel Stone? Which, according t’ what ya showed me, is also the Kanna Stone?”

“Well, I don’t have any other explanation. You?”

“But . . . it doesn’t have any markings on it,” I stated, remembering that Rumen had said the Hébel Stone held the Mark of Cain. I didn’t know what the Mark of Cain looked like, but it didn’t matter. There was no mark of any kind.

“Markings? What kind of markings?” Cian cocked his head with a questioning stare.

“According t’ Rumen, the Hébel Stone bears the Mark of Cain.” I said it before thinking that I hadn’t mentioned Rumen or my dreamwalking to Cian, but it seemed I was about to.

“Rumen?”

“Aye. He’s been present in the dreams I’ve been having for the past week. Bit of a long story, but I’ve yet t’ come across anything he wasn’t on the up and up about.”

Cian’s lips pressed a hard line amid his faint stubble as he looked aside with a vacant stare. When his eyes returned to meet mine, there was an understanding in them . . . a resolve. “You’re the Dreamwalker from the prophesy.”

“Excuse me?”

“The document from the Kanna Tribe that ya translated. ‘One foot in the earthly realm and one in the realm of the heavenlies.’ That’s you. The one who will place the stone and wield the blade and face the choice between darkness and light. All you, Aish.”

I didn’t even have to think about it. I knew he was right. I didn’t want him to be right, but I knew he was. Only, I still wasn’t convinced this was the Hébel Stone.

“Let’s say I am. There still isn’t a mark on that stone,” I said, pointing to his hand.

“Well, there weren’t any marks on the journals or that pillar behind ya either, until they were revealed. What if this has hidden markings as well. Seems t’ be a thing lately.” Cian held the stone out. “Take it. Give it a go. We got nothin’ t’ lose.”

Reaching my hand out, I stopped halfway to the target. “And if it is the Hébel Stone? AKA the Kanna Stone . . . AKA the Stone of Two