Tressa's Treasures (The King's Jewel Book 1) (8 page)

I quickly got into the zone-that place where you know nothing but the sensation of using your muscles and the rhythm of putting one foot in front of the other.

The scenery was peaceful. The forest, on one side of me, was just beginning to show signs of spring. On the other side, the trees were reflected in the water. The late afternoon sun shone in my eyes.

I was just beginning to tire when I rounded the far end of the lake, putting the sun to my back. As I ran towards home, music broke the silence, slow and moody at first but then abruptly bright and cheerful. As I came closer to the source, it stopped with a fanfare. In the silence, I heard someone speaking.

I came around a row of trees and stopped short. Tressa sat in front of me, violin in hand. It struck me each time I saw her: She was gorgeous.

"Oh, hey," I said.

I gasped once or twice for air, more winded than I should have been. I looked around to see who she was talking to, but no one was there.

"Looking for something?" she asked.

"I thought you were talking to someone."

She looked up and smiled at me. Well, not really at me. It seemed like she was looking around my head, not actually at my face, but her smile seemed genuine even if her eyes looked wary.

"No, just speaking to myself. 'Tis a bad habit, I know." She set the violin into the case next to her on the glider.

That answer didn't feel right to me. In fact, it felt like someone was watching us. I looked around again, but I still didn't see anyone. I decided to let it go; just another item in a long line of odd behavior.

"You play the violin," I said, stating the obvious. "I heard you while I was running. It sounded good."

"Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it. And thank you for sending Matt to help me earlier. It was so kind of you."

I shrugged, a little embarrassed by the compliment. "The damage to the store seemed to make you sad, and I wanted to help. I would have come myself, but I had a thing I couldn't get out of."

I turned to look across the lake, feeling awkward and not sure what to say to her. I continued squeezing and relaxing my grip on the stress ball—a nervous habit. The muscle in my scarred forearm flexed each time I gripped the ball.

"Would you like to sit?"

"No, thanks. I've got to get cleaned up and get Sophia. She's with your grandmother; they're expecting me soon."

I turned back to her and noticed her staring at my hand. I froze in mid-squeeze, suddenly self-conscious.

"What a lovely ring. May I see it?" she asked.

I relaxed. She was staring at my ring, not my damaged hand. I slipped off the ring I wore on my pinky finger and handed it to her. The agitation caused by having it out of my possession started the hand tick up again.

"This stone is lovely, and quite unique. Where did you get it?"

"You could say that ring is the reason I'm here. I thought you knew the story?"

She shook her head and continued to examine the ring. It reminded me that she was a jeweler; naturally she would be interested in such a unique piece.

"My mother gave me that stone when I was a boy. She wore it on a chain—she never took it off. Then one day she put it around my neck and told me I should always wear it. I had the stone reset into the ring some years ago."

The old sense of loss returned like it always did when I told this story. I cleared my throat. She watched me, now showing more interest in my story than the ring.

"Did she tell you where it came from or how she got it?"

I laughed derisively. If she had told me that, I wouldn't have spent my life looking for the source.

"She only said that it was special and that I should always wear it. She disappeared a week later. I never saw her again."

"Oh. I'm so sorry," she said hastily. Her sad eyes looked alarmed at the direction the story had turned. I regretted being so blunt.

"It was a long time ago."

"How old were you?"

"Seven."

Her brow wrinkled, obviously concerned for the seven-year-old me. But she also nodded, as if it made sense somehow. As if the age seven may have had some significance.

I wanted to see her reaction to the most recent part of my story, so I continued. "After my mother's disappearance I became obsessed with learning what the stone was and what made it so special—not easy, as it turned out. I got a degree in mineralogy and geology and searched every book I could get my hands on without luck. I've traveled the world looking for another stone like it. I guess I always thought figuring out the mystery of the stone would lead me to answers about my mother."

"And has it?"

"No. I've spent over twenty years looking without luck."

"And how did this bring you to Pine Ridge?"

I watched her closely as I continued. "Two months ago, a story about my research ran in a trade journal. Your grandmother saw it and sent me a letter containing fragments of the same stone. She said she's a friend of my maternal grandmother's, and that her husband found these fragments while exploring this region. Then she invited me to come look for myself."

"How lucky that she read the article." She handed back the ring and I slipped it onto my finger. There was nothing unusual in her reaction.

"Yeah, extraordinary, isn't it?" I kept my voice neutral, not wanting to show her how uncomfortable I was with the coincidence. Any doubtful thoughts I had got pushed to the back of my head. I had never been so close to my goal, and I didn't want anything to get in my way.

Her lyrical voice brought me back to the present.

"So you’re on a treasure hunt." Her smile, again, didn't reach her eyes. "You must tell me if you find some."

TRESSA

I went looking for my grandmother where I had last seen her, in the rock garden near the Manor House. She was still there, sitting on a bench with her hand resting lightly on the hooked handle of her cane.

She smiled as I approached her and greeted me warmly. A basket made of woven vines lay on the bench next to her. I picked it up, sat in its place, and put it on my lap. Inside the basket was an assortment of pine needles, seeds, leaves and stones. I recognized them as the ingredients to a potion I concocted for her that helped relieve the damage done by her stroke.

"I ran into Alexander down by the lake," I said.

"That's nice, dear."

"I was able to get a good look at that ring he wears. He told me that it’s the reason he’s here."

"Did he now?"

I marveled at the complete lack of pretense in her voice as I contemplated what to say next. It was notoriously difficult to get information out of my grandmother. Plus, I had to be careful: we were outside, after all, and anything I said could be carried on the wind. Only a select few knew I was here.

Then I heard light footsteps running toward us. Seconds later, Sophia came around the bend with a handful of bright yellow flowers with needle-like pedals around a bumpy round center.

"I found some! I found some!" she sang and lay the mess of flowers, stems broken and bent, into Mamó's lap. "Hi Tressa, do you see what I found?"

"Aye, where did you find them?" The plant was coughwort, also sometimes called coltsfoot, though many people confused it for dandelions, which were more common locally. I used these flowers in a tea to help with respiratory problems. I knew Mamó had a planting of them on the west side of the rock garden, but I feigned ignorance.

"Just over there." The child pointed to where she had come from.

"So what have we collected today?" Órlaith asked.

"White pine needles, sage pepper seeds, St. John's wort—" she ticked off each ingredient on her fingers while simultaneously jumping and landing with her right foot forward, the next time with the left foot forward and back again. "—amber, and..." here she stopped jumping, seeming to think hard, "the yellow flower. Ummmm, ponyfoot."

"Coltsfoot," I corrected her.

"Coltsfoot!" She held both her arms high overhead in triumph.

"You did good, child. That's enough for today. You have this old lady all tired out. Take the clippings and go find Shamus, will you? It's time that your Da must be expecting you."

Órlaith put the flowers into the basket and I handed it over to Sophia. There was no need for the girl to go find Shamus; he came out through the side door just as Mamó spoke. He exchanged greetings with us before reaching down to take Sophia's dirty little hand.

Mamó and I sat in silence as we watched the unlikely duo go.

"You're teaching her the Sidhe ways," I said. It was a statement, not a question. She nodded her head.

"Do you think that's wise?"

"What could be the harm in it?"

"She’ll learn who we are."

"Yes, she may."

"You know you will grow attached to her, and she to you, as it has been with every child you have nurtured. She won't be here that long; just long enough for both your hearts to break when she goes."

"It's true; I've loved all the children I have nurtured. However, that's the Sidhe way. We nurture all the children around us for as long as our lives intersect. I could ignore a child in my home as easily as I could change the color of my eyes."

I had known she felt this way. Children were precious to any Sidhe community since the birth rate was so low. It was for this reason that Sidhe children were raised by all the adults in the community, not just their parents.

I too was in danger of growing attached to the charming little girl, and of getting my own heart broken when she left.

Mamó's voice interrupted my thoughts. "Perhaps they won't be leaving," she said.

Her use of the word 'they' brought Sophia's father back to mind, reminding me of my purpose in seeking her out.

"Mamó, the stone in his ring is River Rock. He said his mother gave it to him. What was his mother doing with a stone that can only be found in Faery?"

"She came upon it honestly."

"So that means what? From his grandmother, whom you say you knew? I guess she was fae."

"Aye, she was fae. She was my best friend from childhood. She was killed in the last big battle of the last Unseelie war. Her daughter, her only child, fell into such a grief that she left the Otherworld and resolved never to return. I helped her cross a threshold. It was she who brought his stone here, her only memento of her mother and now Alexander's only memento of his." She sighed.

"He says he came here expecting to find more. You wouldn't deliberately mislead him on something that is obviously so important to him. Mamó, what haven't you told me?"

"All will be revealed in due time."

I left my breath out in a huff, the only sign I dared give of my impatience. We sat in silence as I thought over everything she had told me. As my thoughts fell into place, my agitation grew.

"He said his mother told him to never take the stone off. She must have left the stone with him to protect him, to hide him." I dropped my voice to a mere whisper to keep my next words as contained as possible. "She had some reason to fear that the Unseelie would be listening for news of him on the wind. If this is true, being near me can only be dangerous for him."

Here was another sign, if I needed it, that I should stay away from this man. Every new revelation reinforced the realization that getting too close to him would be bad for both of us.

"What was once true doesn't always remain true." Mamó leaned toward me and kissed my temple. "He is here, as he is meant to be. They may go; they may stay. Either way, all will be as it should be."

I smiled at her, knowing she would tell me nothing more. She was giving me another of many lessons in patience, as she had since I was younger than Sophia.

Shamus was beside her then, holding her elbow to steady her as she rose.

"I have guests coming for dinner,
a leanbh
. You are welcome if you would like to join us."

CHAPTER SEVEN

It didn't take Alexander long, considering the overall length of his search, to find more of the River Rock. Three weeks later he followed Matt into the store.

It was the first time he had come back to the shop since the fateful afternoon of his arrival. This time, he had obviously come directly from work. Both men wore their dirty work clothes and mud covered boots.

"Howdy, Pilgrims," Matt said in his best John Wayne imitation.

Holly, who had been moping around, brightened. It made me wish he would come around more often. Her mood seemed to get lower every day, and it was a joy to see her smile again.

"Matt, where have you been?" Holly greeted him at the door with a kiss on his grimy cheek. "I thought you'd visit once in a while when you told me you would be working nearby."

I hid my amusement when he blushed.

"I would have been here sooner if my boss weren't such a slave driver. He never gives me a minute's rest."

She made a sympathetic noise. "Bad, huh?"