feel a slow, soundless thudding in the air, like the heartbeat of something impossibly huge, impossibly far away, but at the same time so close she felt she could reach out and touch it. It echoed in her bones and in her water, and something in her responded to it, like the tune of a song she had always known. The presence of the standing stone grew stronger, as though it were the only light and they were just the shadows it cast. The Blood Runners were frozen in place, breathing together in perfect synchronization, their eyes fixed unblinkingly on the Summerstone. Hazel moaned softly as something like pain throbbed in her head in time to the silent heartbeat. She could feel her mind changing, unraveling… as though something that had always been within her were finally awakening. A great truth trembled before her, like a name right on the tip of her tongue.
And then Scour blew out the candles on the Hand of Glory's fingers, reality
crashed back to normal, and the stone was just a stone again. The Blood Runners stirred, as though emerging reluctantly from a communal dream. Some of them stared at the stone, and some at Hazel, and it was hard to tell which group looked the most disturbed. Scour glared about him.
"You see? The stone recognized her. It responded to her presence. If I hadn't shut it down again, who knows how much power she might have been able to draw from it? She must be removed from here, kept separate from the stone, secured in a laboratory where she can be examined in safety. For all our protection."
"Logical," said a new Blood Runner, stepping forward from his group to confront Scour. "But we must all have access to the subject, and all information derived from the subject. That is not negotiable."
"All secrets will be shared, Pyre," said Scour. "What's the matter; don't you trust me?"
There was a shared murmur of hissing laughter from all present, but there was no humor in the bloodred eyes fixed on Scour. He glared right back at them defiantly, showing his teeth in a smile that was as much a snarl.
"Why should the pleasures of the interrogation be all yours?" said Pyre. "We all wish to know the joys of penetrating her flesh and blood, to savor her little cries and horrors as she gives up her mysteries one by one. You are too jealous of your pleasures, Scour, and we will not stand for it."
"You know, I'm still willing to cooperate," said Hazel, just a little desperately. "This doesn't have to be a fight. The things you're after are secrets to me too. We could look for them together. Perhaps if you were to tell me more about your past and your true nature, I might be able to suggest directions you could look in; things that might not occur to you. I've been through the Madness Maze, remember, wielded powers you never even dreamed of.
You'd be surprised where I've been."
For a long moment, she thought they weren't going to buy it. The bloodred eyes stared at her coldly, unsympathetically, from all sides. Hazel was bluffing, but hoped they didn't know that. For the moment, she was as concerned with staying close to the Summerstone, as with putting off Scour's bloodthirsty desires.
Simply being around the Stone made her feel stronger.
"Tell her," said Lament. "Let her know who and what she is dealing with."
"A new viewpoint may be of value," said Pyre. "Very well. Listen, Hazel d'Ark, and learn our secret history."
"You always did like an audience," said Scour.
"Once, we were human," said Pyre. "Only human, though separated from the mainstream of Humanity even then, by our own choice, following a darker, more subtle path. Some of us came to what would be known as the Wolfling World, as archaeologists. And quite by accident we found the Madness Maze, while looking for something else. Or perhaps it found us. In the greater realm, there are no accidents. Everything has a meaning. Everything has a purpose.
"We wondered at the great Henge, sensing its power, but chose not to enter it.
We knew even
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