Teri McLaren
"A woman's name," breathed Cheyne, hardly believing his ears. "Then that means the totem…"
"Is a woman's totem, yes," said Luquin gently, his eyes full of compassion. "But it's much more than that, Cheyne."
"What? What do you mean?"
"It's the key to the Armageddon Clock."
"The-"
The Treefather nodded. "Your book says so, at least. Cheyne, do you know why Javin sought the Collector?"
"Only so that he could find the Clock. It was his… great quest."
"Yes. Because the Collector was the one who invented the Clock. Let me read something to you."
He began slowly, pronouncing the words first in the old language, then repeating in the modern tongue. "The Clock shall have a key. It shall be the totem of my daughter Claria, to whom I bequeath all my knowledge, and all my possessions, and to all of her line successively shall it be so-"
"Did you say Claria?" asked Cheyne before Luquin could translate. Og mirrored his startled response.
The Treefather raised his eyes and nodded. "Yes. It's an uncommon name, even in the Collector's time. May I go on?" Cheyne nodded, a peculiar smile lifting his lips.
"The key shall fit the twelfth spire, the tallest, I believe, from the edge of the middlemost part of the valley the elves call the Chimes. When it is inserted into the cleft in this spire, and the spire is made to be whole once again, the slightest breeze will cause the other spires, in their peculiar properties, to sing until they shatter, and the void they leave shall summon the godscream from the erg, and the ensuing power of its voice shall break the crystal door."
And $ve up its treasure to me, thought Naruq, eavesdropping again from his hiding place. This was going to be far easier than he thought.
"Want to make a trade, digger?" Naruq stepped out