she thought, to lie down in the snow, close her eyes, and wait for warmth to take her. It would be like falling asleep, and she would be with Benedictus again. But Lacrimosa turned her head, looked back at Kyrie and her daughters, and knew that she must be strong for them.
"I must survive," she whispered into the wind. "I must guide them, and heal them, and fight for them. Who else would?"
They had so much to live for, she thought. Kyrie and Agnus Dei wanted to get married, to raise a family. Gloriae still dreamed of becoming a great leader, a queen of Requiem and defeater of Osanna. The youths spoke of rebuilding Requiem, of killing Dies Irae, of changing the world. In all this darkness, they saw light.
And what of myself? Lacrimosa thought. Do I still see light in the world? My light died and lies buried in that valley. My children are my light now—my daughters, and Kyrie, my adopted son.
"I don't know what strength I still have, Ben," Lacrimosa spoke to the distant valley. "But so long as I can, I will carry your torch. I will keep our children alive and their hope burning. I will do this for them and for you." Suddenly she was trembling, and tears flowed down her cheeks. "I miss you, Ben. I wish you were here with me. I love you."
When the wind gusted again, ash from a mimic's body swirled around her boots. Lacrimosa looked at the burned body, which lay in the courtyard, and saw a red glint. She frowned.
Wrapping her cloak around her, she stepped off the wall and approached the body. It was but a pile of ash and old bones. She stirred the ash with her boot, and saw the glint again—something red and glistening like a ruby. Thankful for her leather gloves, Lacrimosa reached into the ash and retrieved a gemstone the size of a chicken's egg.
She brushed it off and held it up. It sparkled strangely in the light. Shadows and stars seemed to swirl inside it, blood-red. It was heavy. Though small enough to fit in her palm, it felt much larger, like lifting a gourd.
"What's that, Lacrimosa?"
Gloriae walked toward her, eyes narrowed. Inwardly, Lacrimosa winced. She still won't call me Mother. I saved her from Dies Irae moons ago, but I'm still only Lacrimosa to her.
She hid her disappointment. "A gemstone," she said, holding it out. "I found it inside a mimic's body."
Gloriae frowned at the stone. "This looks familiar. I've seen this before somewhere." She scrunched her lips. "Yes. Artifacts of Wizardry and Power spoke of glowing red stones."
Lacrimosa nodded. "Gloriae, would you stay here and watch? You have the sharpest eyes. Call us if more mimics arrive. Kyrie, Agnus Dei! Come downstairs, into the cellars. We have some reading to do."
Soon the three stood underground by the hearth. The cellars looked strangely empty without the wood they'd been collecting for weeks. Her footfalls echoed. Sap, twigs, and pine needles covered the floor. They had few furnishings: A table and chairs Kyrie had built, a bearskin rug, and beds of straw. They had no shelves; their belongings, including their books Mythic Creatures of the Grey Age and Artifacts of Wizardry and Power, lay in the corner.
Lacrimosa set the gemstone on the table, then fetched Artifacts of Wizardry and Power. She placed the ancient, leather-bound tome beside the gemstone, blew off the dust, and opened it.
"Let's see," she said and sat by the table. Kyrie and Agnus Dei stood behind her, looking over her shoulders at the book.
"Does it say anything about gemstones from mimic guts?" Agnus Dei said. She reached toward the pages. "Give it here."
Lacrimosa slapped her hand away. "Be patient. I'm looking." She flipped to the first chapter. "This chapter is about the Griffin Heart."
Agnus Dei groaned. "We know all about the Griffin Heart. We destroyed it already. Come on, Mother, get to the gemstones."
Lacrimosa turned her head and glowered at her daughter. "Agnus Dei, calm down. I'm looking."
She flipped the parchment pages and reached the second chapter. "And this chapter is about the Summoning Stick...."
Agnus Dei groaned louder. "Mother, we already used the Summoning Stick when fighting the nightshades. Give me the book. I'm a fast reader."
Lacrimosa glared at her daughter. "Agnus Dei, you're making me angry. Will you please let me—"
Lacrimosa froze.
The table was shaking.
"Earthquake?" she whispered. The gemstone and book rattled on the tabletop.
Kyrie shook his head. "Only the table is moving. Look! Its