Ruby Road

It had been thirteen years, but my heart skipped a beat. My brain was bursting with things I wanted to say—many of them contradictory—things I had thought I might say if I ever saw him again. So, I said nothing.

He pulled a leather bag out of an inside pocket of his cloak, opened the drawstrings, and turned it upside down over a display tray on the counter. A flood of rubies—smooth but uncut—poured out. “I need you. There’s probably a whole mountain full of them. But I can’t find the vein myself. Come with me, and we’ll split the take.”

What I had—what he wanted—was a talent for earth magic. I sifted them through my fingers. The quality was extraordinary, the feel of them electric as they touched my magic.