Photograph by Lisa Shambrook (please do not use without permission)
Linten pulled the evanescent stone from his leather pouch and shook his head trying to rid his ears of the ringing from the explosion. The corridor was completely blocked and there was no going back… He could barely see the stone in his hands in the gloom, it glowed, but its power was fading fast. Linten closed his fingers around the warm stone. He could feel it vibrate in his palm and his hopes lifted, just a little.
“This had better work,” he muttered, “One wish and this is it…I need an escape …”
He drew in a deep breath then coughed as rock dust tickled his throat. As he finished coughing he opened his fingers and glanced down at the stone, now vibrating more intensely and he smiled. “C’mon, c’mon…” He thrust his tulwar back into its sheath and enclosed the stone in both hands. His moth fluttered against his cheek as he willed the stone to work its magic.
The stone began to sing, music pulsing through the cavern. The music continued, soft notes palpitating like Linten’s own heart, building to a crescendo. As the music reached fever pitch, Linten was enveloped in a tornado that ripped his breath away and he sank into oblivion.
Fluttering tiny wings roused him, he still clasped the stone within both hands and a gentle melody echoed in his head. His helmet sat upside down at his side and his moth crackled with tiny flames of worry. Linten sat, warily. He was out of the mineshaft and free, and he drew in a breath of fresh night air and opened his fingers revealing the evanescent stone. It tingled and he brought it to his lips, but as he kissed the precious rock the music stopped and the stone vanished, its duty done.
Day three: March - Music
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