Sweat budded on her face as she let out a long exhale. With narrowed eyes she stared at the opaque shard in her hand. The stone—if it was stone—absorbed light like a crater of darkness.
“What is this?” she said, holding it up.
The veins on the big man’s arms began to visibly throb. Tendrils of black surged wildly beneath his skin, expanding their reach. He threw back his head and howled. They all slapped their hands over their ears. The horses bolted away from the fierce scream. The griffin woke. Flailing in agony the hunter leaped up. A backward spasm of his arm knocked Cerise off her feet. She flew backward to slam onto the ground with a yelp of pain.
