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Authors: Anya Monroe

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46.

Tristan

North Montagne

 

Tristan couldn’t help but feel a bit stiffed out of his own personal
trésor
. Uncle Rémy reminded him it was because of Tamsin that they had any stones at all. And Tamsin only had insight because of her morbid connection to Sophie.

If the
trésor
was anyone’s, it was Sophie’s. She’d suffered enough, unknowingly, because of it. Sophie believed the
trésor
belonged to the people of Gemmes.

Now there was an enormous band of travelers behind the Royal Carriage. A Palace Crier travelled ahead, telling villagers the plans of the Monarchy. Tristan sat, looking out the window as they approached Madame Josephine’s in the North where he had stored the other gemstones. They had travelled for two days and it was a relief to be one step closer. The idea of sitting next to Sophie and Henri for one more hour, as they looked at one another adoringly, would cause him to vomit.

Thankfully, the carriage stopped.

He disembarked with Uncle Rémy, Sophie, and Drake. Drake had become Sophie’s trusted Advisor, and although it was rumored that the queen had dismissed him on grounds of his relationship with the king, it seemed he was still the man who was most closely acquainted with the ruling of Gemmes. He was an asset for sure.

Madame Josephine scurried outside of her
Aubérge
to greet them, wrapping Tristan in her arms, and then Remy’s necks.

“Oh my sweet boys … back at last!” She had tears in her eyes, clearly surprised to see them. Tristan noticed her giving an appraising eye to Sophie, but she said nothing. Intimidated by the new Queen most likely.

“We need to step inside my room, I left something quite valuable inside,” Tristan said courteously, knowing Josephine would be honored to have the Royal Carriage stop at her humble hostel.

“Of course, of course, tea?
Café au lait
? Lunch?” she asked the group.

“We’re fine, but we need to step upstairs, my dear,” Remy answered for everyone.

The
Aubérge
was empty; most everyone in the village had made their way to see the enormous traveling party, or had run home to get their horse and cart to join them.

Tristan led the group up the stairs to the room he had claimed as his own for so many years. Finally, he was coming to take the gems, take what was his– at least in part. His stomach roared in anticipation.

“Help me with this, Drake?” Tristan asked, needing to move the bureau.

Once moved, and carpet pushed aside, Tristan used his chisel to pry up the floorboard, revealing the discreet hiding place no one would ever think to look. Tristan moved aside for his uncle, the man who inspired him to track in the first place, the man who taught him everything he knew.

“All here,” Uncle Rémy said as he counted the gems in the slim box that held so much, a tear slid down his weathered cheek. The fruition of a dream was a moment to savor. “There are five here, Tamsin gave me the sixth--” He held up the blue sapphire. “And Sophie? The garnet?”

“It’s here,” she patted to the discreet pouch hanging on her neck, “I will take these,” she said, lifting the box of gems.

It was hard to let go. Tristan didn’t want to, but he had no choice. The other men nodded curtly to the queen. She could do anything she wanted.

They walked out of the
Aubérge
, kissing Madame Josephine as they left. Sophie stopped in front of the carriage next to Henri, looking at Tristan expectantly. In fact, everyone looked at him expectantly.

“Oh, yes. Okay. So.” Tristan cleared his throat and began reciting the book he had practically memorized,

 

“You must go to the foot farthest away,

and set the gems upon their stone stage.

Once they are placed, the magic will hold,

opening up riches untold.

The one who places the gems will see

their future, their power, their majesty.

 

Tristan’s eyes gleamed, and he was expecting to see shouts of joy. Instead everyone looked at him with their heads to the side, arms crossed, perplexed.

“It’s a bit vague, isn’t it?” Sophie asked. “I mean, the foot could mean an awful lot of things.”

“What exactly is the
trésor
?” Henri pressed, apparently as cynical as his
amour.

“I don’t know everything. I never said I did. I said we needed to track these gems that the book lists. Find them and see what happens. That’s what I did. I’m a Gem Tracker, not a stone reader!”

The group swerved their heads simultaneously toward Emel. Because they did have
diseuse de bonne aventurer
on their hands.

“Okay, okay, I get it! I will get the crystal ball from my wagon. What would you have done without me, my darlings?” Emel asked, laughing at them.

Tristan followed her, anxious to see where they were to go, with the entire country of Gemmes on their tails.

This was more than an adventure. This was his life.

 

 

47.

Tamsin

Toward the Foot of the Montagne, Gemmes

 

Sophie looked like her mother. It was strange to stand back and watch her now, taking over Gemmes so authoritatively. It reminded Tamsin of the stories villagers used to tell of King Marcus and Queen Cozette, when they were strong and ruthless rulers. Sophie was like them, but better.

Tamsin saw Sophie’s pause before she answered a question. Tamsin saw it when Sophie listened to Emel explain the route the crystal had promised. Tamsin saw it when Sophie looked over her shoulder at Tristan, making sure he wasn’t watching before she took Henri’s hand in her own, and held it tight.

Sophie was kind.

Sophie was the sort of leader Gemmes needed.

“Rémy, do you think it will take long to get there?” Tamsin asked, as they sat alone in a carriage behind the one holding the queen.

“No, it won’t be far now. Although this outrageous entourage may cause some problems.”

Tamsin looked from the window at the people streaming behind them for miles. Sophie invited the entire country to watch as the
Trésor de L’espoir
was revealed. Royalty had never made a gutsier, bolder move.

“What are you doing when this is over?” she asked Rémy.

“Drake asked if I would stay on at the Palace. Obviously, the
trésor
might change some things. Regardless, he said my expertise with stones and skills at tracking were a real asset to Gemmes.”

“You’ll stay then? Isn’t that like becoming an informant to the king?” Tamsin asked surprised.

“I’m old. The reason I’m here now is because your elixirs were able to treat my cough. I can’t scale mountains anymore. Besides, there is no more dictatorship. You heard Sophie, it’s a democracy.”

“I guess we will be saying our good-byes soon then?”

“Do you want to say goodbye?”

“I want a lot of things, Rémy. I wanted to stop doing the dark magic in my cottage for longer than that, but I didn’t stop. I kept doing what people asked of me, letting myself be mixed up in things I never wanted.”

“The dark magic tied you in ways you couldn’t control, Tamsin. Stop being so hard on yourself.” His voice was hushed, and he looked at her, seeing her. The regret. The fear. The fragility.

He had seen her worst. He saw her call upon the Hedge. He saw her kill the king.

“Rémy, I wanted you for years and years and years and was never brave enough to ask for what I wanted.”

He took her face in his calloused hands and spoke the words Tamsin couldn’t accept, “You are braver now.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

He kissed her lips tenderly; so soft it was as if it didn’t happen. Accepting that someone would love her, want her, choose her, was hard. Nearly impossible. Especially with her ugly truth spread thick between them.

“I’m scared,” she said.

“That’s the thing, Tamsin, every last one of us is.”

He kissed her again. This time she sank into him. She closed her eyes, letting the power of forgiveness, the forgiveness of herself, wash over her.

48.

Sophie

Foot of the Montagne, Gemmes

 

The stone stage was here as Emel predicted, as the
Seigneur des Cavernes
promised. Sophie shook her head taking in the view. Once they saw the stage was a real, true, an actual place, she made everyone in her party wait until her citizens could pour into the basin of the mountain, and be a part of this, with her.

The stage was a large aquamarine platform on which Sophie stood, her friends surrounding her. A large shelf was carved in the side of the stone stage, where the stones were to be placed. 

The mountain itself was large, but truly, it was not as ominous as some of the slopes that ebbed against her Vallee home. It wasn’t the size that made it special; it was the fact that it had never been mined. All the other mountains of
Gemmes
were littered with mining sites, some abandoned, some in various stages of use. Sophie had seen handfuls of them as she and Tristan had made their way across the Western side of Gemmes.

“Why had no one mined here?” she asked her friends, looking out at the crowds gathered before her.

“It’s impenetrable. That is a tale as old as time, My Queen,” Tamsin said and Drake nodded in agreement.

“It’s true. Nothing can pierce this mountain’s core. People gave up trying ages ago. Of course this is where the
Trésor de L’espoir
would lie!”

Thousands of people joined her. They watched as her small council gathered around. Sophie smiled. Just like the heart had fit perfectly, so had assuming this role. Queen.

They had left people back at the Palace, of course. Nicolette and the other Advisors had duties to tend to. Ladies-in-Waiting and servants ran things for her as well. The Palace couldn’t be left vacant.

Henri smiled and her chest fluttered. A real, butterfly of a flutter. The fluttering all those ridiculous girls at school always spoke of, the fluttering she always teased Henri for having … she now had them too.

The fluttering appeared every single time she looked at her best friend. Who turned out to be quite an excellent kisser.

Sure, Tristan knew how to work a woman, but that fell flat compared to a kiss that held the promise of hope and love and dreams and forever.

Sophie opened the box with the glittering gemstones. They were magical, and now with them gathered in one place, the stones felt stronger than when Tristan had first shown them to her.

“Drake,” she said, this one is for you to place. The sapphire is needed in times of great stress and turmoil. As my Advisor, it fits, doesn’t it?” She smiled as she handed it to him.

He walked to the shelf on the aquamarine stage, at least four feet long and as high as his waist. Upon it were seven indentations, a place for each of the stones if they were the correct gem.

Drake took the stone, with shaky hands, and set it in the crevice that looked most befitting for the bright blue gem he held. Once in place, a giant screech echoed, so startling that Emel put her hands over her ears in fear.

Sophie swallowed tersely, determined to be as courageous as her mother.

“It’s alright,” she called to her people, as murmurs rippled through them. Sophie had a fleeting thought of the mountain underneath them cracking open. She continued with her ceremony instead of giving into her fears.

“Rémy, for you I offer the topaz. May you garner the personal health it bestows upon its holder.”

Rémy took it from her warmly, and placed the white stone on the stage. The mountains seemed to speak as the stone stood in place. Reverberations swelled.

“Emel, for you, the pearl. For the ways you symbolize a pure heart and clear mind. For giving me a second chance, you deserve my faith, and more.”

“Thank you Sophie,” Emel said, squeezing Sophie’s neck.

Sophie grimaced, knowing it would take a bit longer than a day to get used to having a girlfriend. Girls were much more into hugging than she was used to.

When the pearl was placed the mountain moved, enough so that everyone stretched their arms to steady themselves. Sophie knew she needed to get her rite of passage over with before they died of a panic-induced attack.

“Tristan,” she said, smiling at the ridiculous boy she had fallen in league with. The boy with blond curls recklessly falling across his eyes. The boy who sauntered toward her, as though he still thought there was a sliver of a chance for a spark to fly. The boy, who had seen her more than half-naked and bare, yet had chosen to hold back when she had given him permission. He had held her honor, for that she was grateful.

“Tristan,” she started again. “For you, the peridot.” He looked at her in surprise. He may have expected a different gem, but this was the one for him, Sophie knew.               “The peridot,” Sophie continued, “promises to deliver growth and help alleviate jealousy and anger.”

He started to answer, but she stopped him, “I know you’ve held this
Trésor
in your heart for many years. For this reason, the people of Gemmes thank you, undoubtedly, for your devotion.”

A cheer rang out, and Tristan waved his hands and grinned, giving them a bow, executed with a fine flourish. 

“Thank you for that,” he said, kissing Sophie’s hand.

He put the green peridot in the gap clearly created for it, and leaned against the stage, as the canyon seemed to splinter apart.

“This seems a little risky … you know how I was really into the
Trésor
… it might actually be our demise,” Tristan said his voice quaking like the earth’s surface.

“Don’t say that,” Sophie admonished. “Almost done. Henri. I am returning what is yours. You already possess the strength the diamond offers. You were able to look in a crowd and see the real diamond in the rough. You saw me.”

Henri took the stone and kissed her hard. “Just don’t get too sentimental on us, okay, Jou-Jou.”

The earth shook, harder now, as he placed the diamond face down in the aquamarine. Sophie’s stomach rumbled too, in fear, though she tried to steady herself and remain strong. Now was not the time to let her irritability get in the way.

“Tamsin?”

The
devins-guérisseur
looked surprised to be called upon, but Sophie wasn’t. This woman had started something that wasn’t stopping anytime soon. Sophie knew Tamsin had little choice that night she was born. Do the dark deed, or suffer death while watching the queen die. Her father had put Tamsin in a terrible place, as such a young girl herself. Sophie didn’t hold the deed against her.

Looking back with regret would get her nowhere.

So instead, she offered a talisman.

“The garnet, for you.”

Tamsin shook, her eyes full of tears. Sophie saw the years of repentance melt way as she took the blood-red stone.

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness, My Queen.”

“Yes, you do.”

Sophie wanted to be as tender as the mother who laid down her life for her own. She wanted to be a gentle as Francesca, the woman who had raised her so unswervingly, when Sophie never gave a trace of love in return. Sophie wanted to be as brave as Emel’s stones believed she could be.

“The garnet is believed to restore the heart in times of darkness and depression. That is what you need. That is what I offer.”

Tamsin wiped away the tears on her cheek as Sophie continued, “Also, you are needed at the Palace. You must make your elixirs, and teach others to make them as well so we can cure my people of the
Coffre Au Trésor
before it kills the men who have dedicated their lives to the Monarchy.”

Tamsin nodded in understanding. Sophie watched her glance at Rémy who whispered, “Be brave,” to Tamsin’s tear-streaked face.

Tamsin placed the stone in its resting place and in that moment a piercing blaze rang through them, as though the mountains cried.

Sophie grabbed the final stone. She rubbed her fingers against the glittery gems, wiping away her worry as she placed the milky white opal in the final spot.

The opal that promised to amplify buried emotions and desires.

The opal that promised to mirror love.

The opal held its place among the other gemstones and the mountain roared to life.

“Oh, Hedge!” Sophie cried, as a splintering crack ripped open the mountain before them revealing the underbelly of the impenetrable surface.

“What is it?” She asked, shaking her head not understanding what poured out of the mountains side.

“That, My Queen, is gold!” Tristan said with authority, as everyone looked on in shock.

“It’s true,” Remy agreed. “The jewel of fables and myths as old as the
Tresor
itself!”

The
Trésor de L’espoir
was gold.

Literally, the world was covered in gold as the inside of the mountain was revealed. Gold, a substance no one in Gemmes had ever seen before.

As the exterior of the mountain peeled away like a thin eggshell, waterfalls of gold cascaded toward them. It was blindingly bright and the screams of terror were replaced with a raucous outcry of elation.

This was absolutely real.

The
Trésor de L’espoir
was no fabricated legend; it wasn’t some dream of an ancient genie’s lamp. This was real, pure gold.

She turned to Tristan whose face gleamed like the mountain. She didn’t want to miss the moment when she watched someone’s dream become reality. It was a moment that would be etched in Sophie’s heart forever.

Tristan’s eyes were bright. Tears of shock, tears of joy poured from him as he shook his head absolutely overwhelmed. It was priceless.

She took Henri’s hand, and they watched the previously rioting citizens leap toward the golden lake that had formed before them.

People swam in the sea of fortune. The gold that poured out was soft as dust. The mountain still held boulders of the
trésor
, chunks of gold as large as the Royal Carriage.

“Sophie,” Henri said, a smile splashed across his face. “I think you still owe me a champagne toast.” He held out a bottle, and a square box of chocolates. He never ceased to amaze her.

“What shall we toast?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“We shall toast your heart of stone, Jou-Jou.”

“I don’t have a heart of stone!” she argued, smacking him on the shoulder, thinking she should have smacked him on the rear. 

“Oh, yes you do, Sophie Bijou, Queen of Gemmes. You are gold.”

 

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