Heart of Stone Read Free

to come to the fire, and have some vin ?” the brother of Emel asked.
    Sophie took the young man in. An extremely crooked nose, with crookeder teeth, but his smile suggested he was friendly.
    “Yes, come, sit!” the other man added.
    They seemed extremely uninterested in Henri. Sophie supposed it was because he wasn’t wearing a dress that strategically revealed his finer assets.
    Before Sophie answered, Emel came from behind the wagon.
    “What is it? I’m supposed to be meeting Miora for a lesson,” Emel huffed as she walked with tiny clinking bells strung on ribbons, wrapped around her waist, announcing her arrival.
    Sophie beamed, remembering the night they spent last year with Emel, sitting at a fire, listening to her tales woven from the fabric of her adventures. Sophie realized they may have been completely handspun stories, but it didn’t matter. The stories had given her ideas that she’d never considered before.
    Like leaving this place herself.
    “Who would have thought you would come once more? I’d hoped, hadn’t I, Besnik?” Emel shot her brother an arrogant smile. “And look, they returned!” Emel squealed with delight.
    “You remember us then? It wasn’t some dream of ours?” Sophie dared ask.
    “Of course I remember you, Sophie, and darling Henri, of course!” She winked at him flirtatiously. “Look at you, handsome as ever.” Emel was the same age as the two villagers, but drastically different. She had long black hair braided down her back, and a bright red peasant blouse draped off her elegant caramel shoulders, but it wasn’t her clothes. Sophie dressed to show herself off as best she could, as well. No, Emel was sweet. Like the bon-bons Sophie loved to eat.
    “Can we stay then, for a bit?” Henri asked with his eyebrows raised.
    “Of course you may, although I must go to my lesson. I’m learning my trade.” She said this with a flourish, with pride. “But you can come. Oh, it will be fun! You can have your stones read!”
    “You mean, divination ?” asked Sophie, filled with curiosity over the idea of having her fortune told.
    “Oh, I’m horrid at it, but Miora? She’s magnificent! Come, come!” Emel dragged the friends by their hands, and they looked in wonder as they passed Bohème campfires. Tired travelers sat on worn logs, drinking and laughing. A fiddler played a song, and brightly painted wagons circled them.
    It was everything Sophie hoped for. She looked at Henri thinking this was the night they would remember. No matter what happened next. They would always have this adventure.
     
     

2.
    Tristan
    King’s Montagne South, Gemmes
     
    Rémy sat across from Tristan in a tiny hovel of a café , deep in the heart of the mountain. Miners were gathered, taking their lunch breaks, but Tristan and Rémy were not a part of that group. They were rogue.
    Tristan couldn’t help but smile. No, grin was more like it. They had found the sapphire yesterday. They were within the trésor’s grasp. This undiscovered bounty, fabled for countless generations, was finally in his reach. The future of Gemmes might very well be his. Two gemstones were all he needed before he could open the mountain and claim the Trésor de L’espoir as his and his Uncle’s own.
    “Well, I hate to break your morning reverie, but someone is following us, particularly you. If you knew what was good, you’d disappear before someone tries to take what is yours.” Rémy patted Tristan’s shoulder. “You’ve worked too hard.”
    Tristan ignored the paternal gesture, and Uncle Rémy’s warning. He wasn’t interested in running away from people because some informant of the King was watching him a bit too closely.
    “I know you like to ignore my counsel, but people are watching us. Just now in the Aubérge some woman asked if she could come with us to get the next stone. Everyone knows what we’re up to here.”
    “ Merde ,” said Tristan. “Just what we need. A bunch of novice trackers on our