The crystal sang when Arvella touched it.
Not metaphorically — not the poetic "singing" of wind through trees or water over rocks. The quartz crystal that Seraphina had placed on the workbench in the newly designated forge — a cleared section of the training yard, ringed with wards and lit by torches that burned blue at Seraphina's insistence because "white flame interferes with the resonance spectrum and I will not have sloppy science in my workshop" — produced an audible tone when Arvella's fingers made contact. A clear, high, sustained note that vibrated at a frequency Levi felt in his teeth and Draven felt in the fillings of his back molars and Kael, standing at the edge of the torchlight with his hands in his pockets, felt in the place where his heartbeat used to be.
The crystal glo
