The Jack of Souls (Multi-award winner!)

Chapter 27b - Warning & Decision

Mudruffle served  hot brown soup along with  crusty bread and a hard sheep's cheese. Harric ate sitting in one of the high-backed stuffed chairs before the hearth, since there was no room at the table for Harric. And though Caris had attempted to rise from the table before the food came, Abellia demanded the story of how she landed Willard as her mentor, so she could only cast him another glance of frustrated urgency.

Something must have happened with Willard, Harric thought, and whatever that was could probably wait. She took the old knight's gruffness too seriously. Under the spiny shell was a soft heart and a good man. They didn't sing ballads about him for nothing.

He'd almost finished his meal before he realized that a lady occupied the stuffed chair opposite his. Since the chair was silhouetted against the western window behind it, she'd been framed in darkness without him noticing.

 "Beg pardon, lady," he said, standing. "I—didn't see you enter."  He bowed, a little flustered, as she had clearly been there all along. Peering into the gloom, he suddenly recognized the slippers and the hem of the faded gown, and caught his breath in shock.

"Good evening to you, my dear son."

"Mother — !" he bit the words off, too late. Willard and the others had heard, and gone silent. They stared from the table at the window.

"What's the matter, boy?" Willard said.

"Nothing, sorry," Harric said. "Just a stone in my boot. I beg your pardon."

"I also speak to stones in my boots that way," said Brolli.

Willard snorted, and the joke dispelled the tension, but Caris's look was full of worry. She quirked her head in query from across the room, but he forced a smile and shook his head to show nothing was wrong. When he sat out of view behind the screen of his mother's chair opposite, however, he had to set his bowl aside to keep his trembling from spilling the soup.

His mother simpered. "They can't see me, so you don't dare talk to me. They'll think you mad. And you most surely won't bring out that evil stone while you are here where your friends might see it."

Harric's mind scrambled. How could she enter a tower so full of magic?  "Leave me alone," he hissed, barely audibly.

She leaned forward, eyes aflame. "Cast the stone away, Harric. Its spirit corrupts your mind. Soon it will be too late."

"Hah. What's the trouble? Have I finally found a weapon you fear?"

"Fool, that stone poisons you. Its spirit worms into your dreams. Have you not noticed?"

"You yourself taught me the Unseen Moon is part of Nature, like the other moons. It is neither good nor evil except as it is used by good or evil people. Why the change of story?"

"I was wrong! In the afterworld I see the Unseen as it is, and it is corrupt! As a spirit I know so much more! I must protect you."

He barely contained his fury in a whisper. "Now I know you're lying." He slipped his hand in his shirt toward the stone, and she recoiled like a wolf before fire.

"You are afraid," he said.

"I fear for you!"

Harric peered over the top of her chair at the table where the others had lowered their voices. Willard sent a worried glance in his direction.

Harric ducked back and lowered his whisper. "No. I think I am beginning to understand," he said to his mother. "This stone, this fragment of the Unseen Moon, is somehow dangerous to you. Something potent in the spirit world."