Kal reached for the gems. “We’ll try elsewhere,” she said, stiffly.
Doña Lisi shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She closed the ledger and returned to polishing a chunk of agate.
They walked from broker to broker. Each yielded the same result: the stones were striking but held no ley. By mid-afternoon, they stood on a street corner, hungry and dejected.
“We need enough for a hostel,” Kal said. “Let’s try the jewelers.”
They’d never dealt with jewelers, who only bought cold stones. In the end, they chose one at random called D’Amato’s. The proprietor was middle-aged and paunchy, with thinning dark hair. It was combed over his bald spot with scented pomade. Kal thought he had soulful eyes, like a friendly dog.
“These are unusual,” he said grudgingly, examining the kaldurite. “I haven’t seen this color shift before. No ley, of course, but the aesthetic quality isn’t bad.”
“Not bad?” Kal exclaimed. “Look at them! They’re exceptional.”
He arranged five stones in a row and eyed them critically. “I suppose I could create a pretty necklace with these. Twenty-five for the lot.”
“Forty,” Kal countered.
D’Amato laughed. “Thirty, and only because I’m in a good mood.”
It was a fraction of what they’d hoped for, but enough for a bed and ale to drown their sorrows. Durian glanced at Kal, who nodded reluctantly.
“They came from a larger deposit,” Durian added as he handed over his mining license and filled out the requisite forms. “We could bring more.”
Kal shot him a warning glance. They’d agreed to lie about where they found the kaldurite. The Clear Creek Mine might be abandoned, but it was still owned by a wealthy witch family, or a conglomeration of them. Better to say as little as possible.
But the words were already spoken. D’Amato’s eyes gleamed. “I’d be very pleased to see more,” he said, handing over the bills. “Very pleased indeed.”
They found a cheap hostel near the river and spent the evening at the bar. Durian, who was never down for long, managed to convince her that they’d picked a bad sample and the others would be brimming with ley.
“It doesn’t make sense, does it?” he said. “I mean, why would they be empty?”
Kal stared into her glass. “Who knows? It also doesn’t make sense that they were just lying out like that. Not in a seam. Not raw. It’s like someone dumped them there.”
“But no one goes down there.”
“The Sinn do.”
“So what, they stashed a bunch of old rocks in that cavern?” He twirled a finger. “Bitch, you’re losing it.”
Morning brought clear skies and fresh determination. They left the hostel early, walking along the riverside Corniche. The plan was to try a few brokers they’d missed the day before, but they’d only gone a short way before two witches in long white coats approached from the opposite direction. Kal knew they were witches because of the way the sun turned their eyes into mirrors.
The woman had spiky blood-red hair and piercings all over her face—lips, eyebrows, nose, both ears. The man was big with dark beard stubble and a heavy brow. When he smiled, she saw that his front teeth were capped with silver.
“Good morning,” he said, moving to block their path. “We’d like a word.”
His accent was pure Kievad Rus. Kal heard it all the time in the hills, which straddled the border.
“Um, about what?” she asked, her stomach fluttering.
Were they in trouble? Did someone figure out they’d been trespassing at Clear Creek? But only she and Durian knew. They’d put fake coordinates on the jeweler’s forms.
“We heard you found something interesting,” said the pierced witch. “If you’ve got any left, we’d love to buy them from you. We’ll pay a good price.”
A warning buzzed in Kal’s head, but Durian looked thrilled. “How good?” he asked.
“How about fifty per stone?”
“Sure! We still have a bunch.” He reached for his pouch, but Kal laid a hand on his arm. The offer made no sense.
