Diamond in the Rough - Vivienne Savage Page 0,22

you to our elder.”

“Your grandmother, right?”

Hyraj’s brown eyes twinkled when she replied to Rosalia, “She’s everyone’s grandmother.”

The home they were brought to was smaller than most of the others, but it was also the most well-kept and decorated. It stood separate from the bulk of houses, breaking the perfectly placed spiral formation.

“Grandmother, I have brought them.”

Their host awaited them in the kitchen, slim of figure but nearly as tall as Xavier. Despite her age, she stood proud, her spine unbent by age despite the deep crevices and wrinkles on her brown face. Her eyes gleamed golden as the rings on her dark, weathered hands. She wore layer upon layer of silks fashioned into an elaborate dress of sea green, and a colorful shawl rested over her bony shoulders in shades of purple and orange.

“It is a pleasure to meet you at last. I am Isabis, and I am the speaker of the Red Canyon Clan.”

Xavier bowed. “It’s an honor, Isabis. I am Xavier, and Rosalia is my mate.”

Rosalia dipped courteously. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“Please, be seated. We have much to talk about, you and I.”

“Yes,” Rosalia agreed, lowering to a seat while the old woman poured them stone cups of steaming tea. “I hope you’ll excuse me if I begin by asking how you knew to expect us.”

“I knew to expect you because this was foretold. I did not know the precise day of your arrival, but I knew you would come. I also know why you have come.”

Her words stole Rosalia’s breath. “You know we need the Legacy?”

“I do, and were I able to give it to you, I would.”

“Please, Isabis. There are people—dangerous people—seeking it as well.”

“I know. And if it were in my possession, I would give it to you. But we do not have the Heart of Moritan. What you seek is not here. We have never had it.”

And any chance of saving the world flitted away like smoke on the breeze. If the Mori people didn’t have the treasure, then surely Lacherra soon would. At a loss for words, Rosalia cut her gaze to Xavier. Despite his remarkable restraint, she saw the stress in his features and sensed the anxiety rippling from him as surely as heat waves danced over the desert.

All of their travel and days of wandering the desert had been in vain. If her tears could have served any purpose, Rosalia would have cried.

9

A Trial of Fire

After wrestling for a moment with a bout of frustrated anger, Xavier found his patience. “I don’t understand.” He spoke slowly, barely clinging to the threads of his sanity as he considered the lost time and the days spent in dunes, wandering in search of people who could not help them. Wasted time. Those had been critical days they could have spent scouring elsewhere. “We were told more than once and by numerous sources that your people have the treasure. Were we misled?”

“No, child. Not entirely. We do not safeguard the Heart of Moritan, for our father does that himself.”

Beside him, stirrings of hope whispered over Rosalia’s distraught features. “Please explain, so that we can understand,” she pleaded.

The village elder’s quiet smile creased her face, the wrinkles deeper than the canyons they had traversed to reach the tribe. Xavier tried to imagine how many generations she had raised and guided over the years and surmised she was far older than he, perhaps by decades. “The Heart of Moritan isn’t a figurative term, for the jewel rests in the heart of Mount Mori’onga. That is where it was first forged by fire and brought into this world.”

His belly dropped to his feet. “It’s in the volcano?” Xavier and Rosalia both echoed at once. While he was capable of withstanding the greatest of heat and fire, even his tough draconic hide would burn if he bathed in lava. He was no fire dragon.

A djinn, on the other hand, was born of fire.

Yet he had doubts. Rosalia was no full-blooded djinn. Her mother’s magic was diluted in her blood by her human father. It was possible even she’d burn to ashes and cinder when confronted by magma burning hotter than her natural flame.

“Yes. At the altar to our desert father lies the jewel you seek, placed there by your mother’s hands more than two decades ago. And now it is up to you to retrieve it.”

It shouldn’t have surprised him that nothing could ever be easy. It would have been nice, for once, to merely walk into a