She had touched the garnet while thinking of the mining company that had shuttered her father’s livelihood. She had thought, I wish they would burn.
She took the stone and climbed into the mountains, following a trail that didn’t appear on any map, guided by a heat that pulsed in her palm. The Collector and her men followed at a distance—not to capture her, she realized, but to contain what she might become. garnet
She placed the garnet on the rock between them and did not pick it up again. She had touched the garnet while thinking of
In the morning, the stone was cold. Ordinary. A pretty red pebble, nothing more. The old woman was gone, leaving only the faint smell of woodsmoke and the necklace of garnets, which now hung on a dead branch—empty. The Collector and her men followed at a