When Tharn returned, the black curtains were pulled across the window, sucking out most of the remaining light. The table was now set with two candles and a cup of red wine, brought in by the thin, dour wife. She flicked a humorless smile at Tharn, then shut the back door as she left. Tharn sat across from the old man in the puddle of candlelight, watching as he mumbled softly and slowly shredded a small feather into the cup. He raised the mixture with both hands, incanted the final strange syllables and drank the contents in one long draught. His eyes glazed and seemed to focus far behind Tharn. The long fingers reached forward to pick the gem out of the box.
Tharn watched, barely breathing. Time seemed to stand still as the old man cupped the gem, rolling it between his fingers and tracing the lines over its surface. The wizard stared at it and the gem responded with a faint maroon glow. His brows drew together as his eyes closed briefly, then the wizard grunted softly and nodded. He breathed in deep and gripped the gem tight, cocking his head to one side.
The old man�s eyes opened.