Chipping away enough stone to free the onyx from its granite prison would have required many hours, perhaps days of labour if Shamil’s efforts with hammer and chisel hadn’t been augmented by Rignar’s magics. Taking an apple-sized piece of dark grey rock from his satchel, he played it over the stone surrounding the onyx. It emitted no light, but Shamil heard a dull thrum followed by a harsh, grinding hiss and multiple dust plumes as a web of cracks appeared in the granite.
“Lodestone,” Rignar explained, returning it to his satchel. “I once brought down a castle wall with one of these. Have at it, if you please.”
A quarter hour of chipping and scraping away displaced rock was all that was needed to free the onyx, revealed as an irregular sphere about the size of a man’s head. Its smooth, u
