Durian grinned. “What about kaldurite? Kal and Durian.”
“Kaldurite,” she repeated, testing the word. “Well, it’s better than durkalite.”
She laughed, the sound bouncing around the chamber. In that moment, all the years spent in darkness scrabbling and digging and hacking were worth it. This was the strike they’d prayed for—enough to put the Zamir Hills behind them forever. Kal imagined standing on the deck of their own vessel, running ahead of a fresh salt wind. The start of something vast and blue and limitless.
Durian lifted her up and spun her around until they both fell to the ground, dizzy and cackling hysterically.
“Bitch,” he shouted, “we’re rich!”
The riverboat shuddered against the current. Kal sat at the stern with Durian, two fat purses of kaldurite stones in their laps. Each time they opened the drawstrings to peek inside, the gems caught the sunlight, shifting from blue to scarlet to violet.
They’d left most of the find intact, taking two samples to sell in Kota. It wasn’t by choice. All their stupid laughing and yelling had drawn attention. When they’d felt the tremors of an approaching Sinn, the two of them had hightailed it out as fast as they could crawl.
But Kal felt confident no one else would come along and poach their fortune. The Clear Creek Mine was in a remote area far from any train depot. In their years of exploring it, she’d never encountered another rockhound.
“Once we sell this batch, we’ll go back for the rest,” Durian said. “And next time we’ll play it cool. In and out like little mice, girl.”
“Stop touching them,” she whispered, swatting his hand away. “You’ll wear the shine off.”
He laughed, that ridiculous bray that had earned him the nickname “donkey” from the other kids. “That’s not how these beauties work.” He leaned back, stretching his bad leg out before him. “I’ll buy the first round when we celebrate tonight.”
“Yeah, well, you owe me,” Kal said, but she was smiling. His optimism had always been infectious, a balm for her more practical nature.
The boat docked hours later at the bustling quay of Kota Gelangi. They got off with the crowd, Durian’s limp pronounced after sitting so long. The gem brokers’ district lay fifteen blocks inland, a maze of narrow streets with shops watched by hired muscle. Most of the brokers were weirdlings—humans with just enough witch blood to sense the ley.
As always, they headed for Doña Lisi first. She gave fair prices, never trying to undercut them as most brokers did with young rockhounds. Her tiny shop smelled of sandalwood, the walls lined with locked display cases.
“It’s my favorite speculators from Pota Pras!” She greeted them with a smile, adjusting her magnifying eyepiece.
Durian produced his mining license, a clay disc stamped with a nine-digit number. Kal hovered behind him. They’d chipped in together to buy one since they didn’t come cheap, and you had to have a license to sell gems to a broker.
Doña Lisi copied the number into a ledger. “So what have you brought me today?”
“We found something special,” Durian said, unable to keep the excitement from his voice. He placed three of the kaldurite stones on the velvet pad she kept for examinations.
The old woman’s eyebrows rose slightly as she picked up the first stone. “Brilliant color,” she murmured. She held it to the light, then placed it on her scale. “Good weight.”
“It’s not serpent’s eye, is it?” Durian blurted. “I mean, we think it might be a new gem.”
“We shall see,” she replied, reaching for her testing tools. Traders used various instruments to assess gems, but the most important was a simple ruby—one hot with ley power—that would resonate with any other hot stone. Doña Lisi used a set of calipers to hold the ruby over the first kaldurite stone, then the second, then the third.
She eyed them regretfully. “I’m sorry. There’s no resonance. None at all. These stones are empty.”
Durian shook his head. “No, no. That’s not possible. They came direct from the earth.”
All raw gems held ley. It was only depleted by lithomancy.
“Then they were in a dead zone.” Domina Lisi shook her head. “It happens sometimes. Areas where the ley runs thin, or stones that formed improperly. They’re pretty, yes, but without resonance . . .” She gave them a pitying look.
“How much?” Kal interrupted, her voice flat.
“For cold gems? I can offer you six draghas apiece. Enough to make decorative pieces. But they’re of no use to the witches, and you both know that’s where the real money is.”
Durian’s face crumpled. They’d hoped for a hundred per stone. Maybe two hundred. He handed over the raw chunk of garnet. “What about this?”
Doña Lisi tested it. “Now this one is hot. I can take it off your hands for, oh . . . fifteen dragha?”
“But we found it in the same place,” Durian protested. “So it wasn’t a dead zone.” He eyed her with suspicion.
