Page 201 of The Edge of Darkness

“Corvus,” Laurent greeted the Elder as we approached. “Might we trouble you for a special commission?”

The male peered up at us from over the beaker he held just below eye-level. “Certainly, My Lord. Though, I do hope this is somewhat of a quick task. I have a very special substance that I’m working with here, and it can’t be allowed to grow stagnant for too long, or it will lose all its magical qualities.”

“It shouldn’t take long at all,” I said, handing the Elder the drawing. Eathril had described the stone again in vivid detail to Aremis, which had given him enough of an idea to sketch an exact image of what the amulet looked like.

Corvus lowered his tools and leaned forward to examine the drawing. “A piece of jewelry?”

“Not just. It needs to be imbued with my power so that if someone were to be in its presence, they would recognize whose it was.”

He studied the rendering a moment longer. “Mmm, yes. This I can do.” He tapped his finger against his stubbly chin, working his jaw as he sorted through the task at hand. “There’s a drawer, over there, with a yellow knob.” A lanky finger lifted in the direction of a tall, slender cabinet. “Bring me the box within it.”

Laurent retrieved the box and handed it to the Elder, who flipped open the hinged lid and began rummaging through the assortment of trinkets and tokens of all shapes and sizes.

He hummed to himself, plucking at objects and inspecting them, then tossing them back into the trove. His fingers dug deep, searching for something he seemed to know was there, buried beneath the baubles and buttons and other nonsense.

“Ah-ha!” The rummaging halted, and he lifted his hand.

Between his thumb and forefinger was a round, silver locket the size of a pigeon egg. The shape and size was right, and it was flat, as Eathril had described, but it looked nothing like what was drawn. And it had no stone.

Before I could raise my concerns, Corvus spoke. “The color of the chain?”

“Dark silver, and delicate,” I answered, recalling Eathril’s description.

He spun on his heel and pulled open a drawer from the table behind him. Still humming, he rustled through what sounded like chains and bits of metal until he found what he sought. He lifted a long, thin, chain. Nodding to himself, he turned back to the drawing on the parchment. “And the stone . . . describe it to me.”

“It’s made of pure obsidian, like the stone of Calledan’s mountains, and it contains a swirling mist—visible from its surface.”

Corvus grunted, tracing a finger over the charcoal on the page and smearing it. With the pop of the clasp on the locket, he handed the trinket to me. “Your power goes inside.”

I took the object and stared at it, summoning a sliver of shadow at my fingertips. The wisp hovered above the opened locket until I willed it to fill the empty space. As instructed, it snipped a fraction of itself off, and settled into the confines of the locket, allowing me to shut it within.

I hoped it was enough. It didn’t seem like much at all, but perhaps the Elder would work his magic in a way that would amplify it. I handed it back to him, watching, waiting to see what he would do next.

What I did not expect him to do was send the locket levitating above his work table. It hovered mid-air, on his command, while he disappeared into a darkened corner of the room. The sound of clinking glass echoed toward us, and he emerged again with a bottle full of some sort of black liquid.

“What is that?” I asked.

“I call it corvium,” he answered thoughtfully, as if delighted to share his expertise. “A product of my own recent discovery, it has a wide variety of uses, particularly its ability to be influenced by magic in any state that it’s in. It is a liquid at room temperature, but when heated, and shaped with magic, it hardens into a solid state. It is also a wonderful conductor of electricity. The black seeds from the Zaldora plant are what gives it its ominous color.”

“Practically indestructible too,” Laurent said. “If we had more time, I would commission weapons to be made from this for the war.”

“Weapons would take some time indeed,” Corvus mused, uncorking the bottle and inspecting the contents. “Bring me that candle over there, would you?”

Laurent did as he was asked, sliding the flame underneath the hovering locket where the Elder indicated.

With one hand, Corvus tipped the bottle above the locket, slowly pouring the black liquid until it drenched the object, while his other hand moved in the air, weaving magic and commanding the substance to take form. The heat from the candle’s flame helped solidify its shape as the Elder molded it with his magical touch.

A few moments later, it was not a locket that hovered, but an amulet, black as night, with my shadow swirling beneath the shimmering facets. Gone was the silver of what the locket had once been made of. The corvium had completely encased it and transformed it into a perfectly polished stone, complete with a black bail at the top for connecting to the chain.

Corvus plucked the stone from the air and strung it along the silver chain. He admired his work, nodding in approval before handing it to me. “I think this should do quite nicely.”

“Very convincing,” I agreed, examining the amulet. I was thoroughly impressed. Even the weight of it felt believable.

Laurent stepped up to my side. “It is definitely ominous enough. I wouldn’t know it was a locket before if I had not seen it with my own eyes. I can definitely sense your power within it.”

“Good.” Because in order for this to benefit us in any way, it had to embody Erebus’s essence. I wrapped the chain around my fist and looked up at the Elder. “Thank you. I am in your debt.”

He waved me off. “Oh it’s no trouble. Just don’t go around telling everyone you know about this stuff. I like to keep everyone guessing as to how I am able to create such magical pieces.”