[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
did in that mine shaft, it took its toll on you.
I didn t respond. Instead, I looked at Warren. I m sure you ve guessed by now, but Tobias Dawson is
dead. So are two of his giants. He won t be bothering you anymore.
The old man nodded and rocked back and forth in his recliner. I figured as much.
What happened down there, Gin? Jo-Jo asked. In the mine.
I sat on the sofa and curled my feet up underneath my body. Dawson knocked me out at Mab
Monroe s party. He recognized my magic somehow. When I woke up, I was in the mine with the dwarf
and two of his giants. We were in this cavern, this beautiful cavern. That s where the diamonds were,
hundreds of them set in the stone walls like tiny lamps. Dawson hit me. He wanted to know if Warren
had hired me to kill him. All the usual stuff.
What did you say? Warren asked.
I smiled. I told him I was working for Mab Monroe. That she wanted him dead.
Something sparked in Jo-Jo s eyes, but she masked the emotion before I could figure out what it was.
Then what happened? Jo-Jo asked.
I shrugged. I figured I wasn t getting out of there alive and that I might as well take Dawson and his
goons with me. So I used my Stone and Ice magic to collapse the ceiling. That s why he needed your
land, Warren. The cavern was right under the creek, and the ceiling was too fragile for him to go ahead
and mine the diamonds without you knowing about it.
Warren nodded.
After the dust settled, I was still alive, and they weren t. So I looked for a way out of the cavern, and I
found one. End of story.
I didn t tell Jo-Jo about my hands, about the fact I seemed to have more Ice magic now than ever
before.
That I could feel the cool power rippling through my veins. There would be time enough to do that later.
After I d figured out for myself whether it was just a fluke.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
I jerked my head at the television. What are they saying?
Warren hit the remote, and the sound came on.
They re saying it was an earthquake. That Dawson and his men were doing a late-night inspection and
got trapped inside. They re still digging for them, although everybody knows he s probably dead by
now.
I thought of Dawson s pale hand sticking out the mound of earth and stone and the way I d cut the
dwarf s wrist just to make sure. Yeah, Dawson s dead and buried.
I m just glad you didn t end up the same way, Warren said.
I stared at the wreckage on the television. The sound of the earth rumbling and the stone shrieking rang
in my ears. Me too.
Jo-Jo went to call Finn and Sophia and tell them that I was finally awake, leaving me alone in the den
with Warren.
The old coot heaved himself out of his recliner, bones cracking, and disappeared. I watched the news
coverage of the mine disaster.
Warren came back a minute later carrying a small picture frame. He stared at it a moment, then shoved it
into my hands. Here. I know I can t pay you for what you did with Dawson and all that you suffered.
But I d like to give you something, and I thought you might want this.
I stared at the picture. A fine layer of dust covered the frame, which I wiped away with the edge of my
T-shirt.
The picture might have been in color at one time, but it had long ago faded to a dull yellow. Two young
men, little more than teenagers, looked up at me. The shorter man was obviously Warren T. Fox. He d
stared into the camera with a serious expression, as though he didn t like having his picture taken. The
other man was Fletcher, whose wide grin more than made up for Warren s lack of one. They both wore
work shirts and overalls. Fishing rods and tackle boxes lay at their feet, along with a string of fish. Trees
ringed the area behind them.
Is this you and Fletcher? I asked.
Warren settled into his recliner and started rocking again. It is. Taken a couple of months before he
started up the Pork Pit. Last photo we ever took together.
Don t you want to keep it then?
Warren shrugged. I don t need a photo to remind me of Fletcher. Never have.
He stared at the television, but I still spotted the sheen of moisture in his dark eyes. In that moment, I
knew Warren missed Fletcher Lane as much as I did, even if he d never admit it. And I knew the photo
had to be one of his prized possessions. Because it was a symbol of their friendship, of their childhood
growing up together, and all the good times and hopes and dreams they d shared.
I had photos of Fletcher, but none like this. None that showed him being so easy and carefree. None
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]