Chapter Forty One
Elymas had been the Earth Skyll since before his grandfather’s time, Sartone had gone on to tell him, and even before that. The only other Earth Skyll ever mentioned, and then with a curse, was Saar, the one who’d betrayed the tree. Had there been Earth Skylls between Saar and Elymas? Maybe, but if they’d had names, no one remembered them.
The more Sartone had talked about Elymas, the more Quinn’s mind had fastened itself to physical details: the color of his robe (in Sartone’s day, he’d favored green, now it was rumored her wore a rare red), the drag of his thickened sole, the pale eyes that plucked out everyone’s inward fears, one by one. And, of course, the medallion.
Sartone had been careful to impress him with that.
“It’s made of the finest gold,” he said, adding. “I could look longer at the sun, I think.”
There were two stories surrounding the origins of the medallion, and Elymas had never bothered to confirm either one. The first held that the medallion had been a gift from King Revel, the Warrior King’s great-grandfather, and the one responsible for raising Castle Ursaulis. There’d been a problem with the original plan, though no one remembered what it was, and Elymas had solved it, though no one remembered what he did. In gratitude, King Revel had commissioned the finest goldsmith in the land to fashion a replica of the sun.
Others argued that the medallion was all that had been left of Saar, the chain found twisted among ashes at the base of the tree. The disc was old and powerful and the light caught beneath its surface shone not because of the sun, but because of the strength of the wearer.
No one had ever doubted Elymas was strong.