Zara's POV
I didn't expect the stone to be warm.
It pulsed softly in my palm, like a heartbeat not quite my own, steady and strange. There were tiny cracks running through the crystal, barely visible, like spiderwebs, but I couldn't stop staring at them.
"This is called a Memory Stone," Miles had said. "Rare. Older than most of the magic the Council approves of now. Your mother left her imprint on this one. For you."
I hadn't known what to say. I still didn't.
Now, sitting on the floor of my dorm, the curtains drawn, the room too quiet, I just held it and waited.
"You have to want it," Miles had added with his low voice. "Not just think about it. You need to see her."
I did. More than anything. So I closed my eyes. And I let the need swallow me whole. The air shifted
