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The fairy chieftain spoke in a calm, patient tone as he faced Ketal. “The spring of Myst was burned away. It evaporated completely. Lady Serena gathered as much of its essence as she could from the air, but even so, it is far from enough to restore the spring. So we will perform a special process. Please, come this way.”
He led Ketal to the place where the spring had once stood. Now there was only a hollow, a cleanly scooped-out pit where water had once shone. The stone at the bottom was bare and scorched. Floating at the center of the emptiness hung a single black sphere, no larger than a human fist.
“May I touch it?” Ketal asked the chieftain as he studied it with interest.
“You may handle it freely, so long as it does not leave the spring’s bounds,” the chieftain said.
“All right.” Ketal reached out. He lifted the sphere with both hands, then let out a quiet breath. “It is heavy.”
“You can lift it with your hands…” the chieftain murmured, unable to hide his astonishment.
The sphere’s size hardly reached that of a clenched fist, yet an extreme concentration of Myst had been compressed within. Its density was absurd, thousands of times greater than a lump of gold of the same volume.
Placed carelessly, its mere weight could have collapsed the stone beneath it and shattered the ground. To see someone pick it up in one hand—once more, the chieftain...
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