sense, but subtle as well. Only a tiny link was missing from the spell binding the box shut. What he needed was something almost insignificant in power but—
He recalled the Seeker talisman from where he had sent it. Could it be? It would explain why Quorin had kept such a weak artifact and why it seemed to have no detectable purpose. Add to that the fact that it had been located in the same drawer as the box. Why not put the key in the same place as the lock it was meant for, especially since most people would never connect the two. Like hiding something in plain sight. More and more, Darkhorse convinced himself that he had chosen correctly. In the end, however, there was only one way to find out, and that was to see if his “key” fit.
Recalling some of his past mistakes, he surrounded the container and the talisman before beginning. With so much effort put into keeping the box sealed, it was possible that what he unleashed might be devastating. Possible, but doubtful. Unlike the parchment, Darkhorse sensed that this item had a more useful purpose.
With his mind, he brought the talisman to the box and laid it on top. The pattern he sensed did not seem right. Darkhorse shifted the talisman to a standing position in front of the container. The binding field altered, but again it was not the complete pattern that he sought.
After a moment’s thought, he caused the medallion to lay flat. This time, he brought the box to the talisman, carefully placing it directly on top of the Seeker device.
A perfectly formed pattern momentarily flickered into existence, then cancelled itself out completely. He had succeeded in unlocking the box.
That success did not ease his mind. Darkhorse still had to open the container.
Something nagged at the corner of his mind. He was beginning to dislike those feelings and, under present circumstances, chose to ignore it as simple growing paranoia. It might even be, the stallion decided, that the box itself was trying to turn him away before he opened it and discovered its secret.
Still, there was no sense in taking too many chances….
He turned the container so that the lid would open toward him. In this way, the brunt of any blow would be away from where he stood. The precaution might be all for nought, but there was no harm in taking it.
With a careful touch of his will, Darkhorse raised the lid high.
Briefly, there was a flash of brilliant light, so brilliant that it illuminated the far half of the chamber as well as the sun might have, had it been brought inside. The flash lasted no longer than two, maybe three seconds and then died completely. Darkhorse’s eyes, adjusted to the dark of the room, needed a moment to readjust. When they had, the shadow steed scanned his surroundings, searching for any minute difference. There was none. Despite the fact that he had shielded the box, he had expected some altering. Curious, he dissolved the shield.
The box looked and felt harmless. Darkhorse probed it closely. It was as if Quorin’s toy had used up whatever power it had contained and now needed to be recharged. Where had the power gone, though? Darkhorse almost wondered what would have happened if he had taken the flash full on. It had been more than raw power, though time had not allowed him much of a chance to discover what else it had been. Some spell, but for what purpose?
In frustration, he dropped the box to the floor and crushed it beneath one of his hooves. “Curse your creator! If I should ever find that our paths have crossed…”
It was a foolish act and one he instantly regretted. Darkhorse kicked at the remnants of the container, knowing that it was likely he had destroyed his only clue.
Darkhorse was about to return to Melicard when he became aware of something—no! Someone—in the outer rooms. There was no mistaking that presence. Not so close.
“Your madness has finally led you to—” he burst into the room, defenses and offenses at the ready… only to find no sign of his adversary.
No sign of Shade.
Or was that the case? Darkhorse moved toward the wall to his left, sensing a slight trace emanating from that direction. Shade’s magic. It was too distinctive, too Vraad to be any other’s. There were cracks in the wall, too, as if the warlock had struck out against it before his abrupt departure.
Darkhorse