“It was blue crystal, wasn’t it? And it blocked your powers.”
“How’d you know?”
“It was the color of the stone in the ring you took from that man last night.”
“Yes.”
She got to her feet and moved around the table, stood a moment, then pointed to the vicinity of my left hip.
“Would you empty that pocket onto the table, please?”
I smiled. “Sure. How’d you know?”
She didn’t answer that one, but then it was a different question. I removed the assortment of blue stones from my pocket-the chips from the cave, the carved button I’d snatched, the ring-and placed them upon the table.
She picked up the button, studied it, then nodded.
“Yes, that’s one also;” she stated.
“One what?”
She ignored the query and dipped her right forefinger into a bit of spilled coffee within her saucer. She then used it to trace three circles around the massed stones, widdershins. Then she nodded again and returned to her seat. I’d summoned the vision in time to see her build a cage of force about them. Now, as I continued to watch, it seemed as if they were exhaling faint wisps of blue smoke that remained within the circle.
“I thought you said you weren’t a sorcerer.”
“I’m not,” she replied.
“I’ll save the question. But continue answering the last one. What is the significance of the blue stones?”
“They have an affinity for the cave, and for each other,” she told me. “A person with very little training could hold one of them and simply begin walking, following the slight psychic tugging. It would eventually lead him to the cave.”
“Through Shadow, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“Intriguing, but I fail to see any great value to it.”
“But that is not all. Ignore the pull of the cave, and you will become aware of secondary tuggings. Learn to distinguish the signature of the proper stone, and you can follow its bearer anywhere.”
“That does sound a little more useful. Do you think that’s how those guys found me last night, because I had a pocket full of the things?”
“Probably, from a practical standpoint, they helped. Actually, though, in your case, they should not even have lien necessary at this point.”
“Why not?”
“They have an additional effect. Anyone who has one in his possession for a time becomes attuned to the thing. Throw it away and the attunement remains. You can still be tracked then, just as if you had retained the stone. You would possess a signature of your own.”
“You mean that even now, without them, I’m marked?”
“Yes.”
“How long does it take to wear off?”
“I am not certain that it ever does.”
“There must be some means of deattunement.”
“I do not know for certain, but I can think of a couple of things that would probably do it.”
“Name them.”
“Walking the Pattern of Amber or negotiating the Logrus of Chaos. They seem almost to break a person apart and do a reassemblement into a purer form. They have been known to purge many strange conditions. As I recall, it was the Pattern that restored your father’s memory.”
“Yes-and I won’t even ask you how you know about the Logrus; you may well be right. As with so much else in life, it seems enough of a pain in the ass to be good for me. So, you think they could be zeroing in on me right now, with or without the stones?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know all this?” I asked.
“I can sense it – and that’s an extra question. But I’ll give you a free one in the interests of expedition.”
“Thanks. I guess it’s your turn now.”
“Julia was seeing an occultist named Victor Melman before she died. Do you know why?”
“She was studying with him, looking for some sort of development-at least, that’s what I was told by a guy who knew her at the time. This was after we broke up.”
“That is not exactly what I meant,” she said. “Do you know why she desired this development?”
“Sounds like an extra question to me, but maybe I owe you one. The fellow I’d spoken with told me that I had scared her, that I’d given her to believe that I possessed unusual abilities, and that she was looking for some of her own in self-defense.”