Chapter 9.

NORA WATCHED JACK from her bedchamber window. He had taken his weapons outside and was practicing with each and every one. He fought imaginary enemies, agile and quick. The graceful swing of his sword was proof enough that his shoulder had healed. She had never given the elixir to anyone in all this time, choosing to save it for her Warrior. She had thought per-haps to give some to Ben, but while he knew she had it and be-lieved in its power, he did not ask for it.

She heard a knock at her door and called out her permis-sion to enter, recognizing Ben by the lumbering gait she heard as he crossed the wooden floor. She suspected he might be afflicted with another attack of the gout, but he was generally in good health and would not complain.

“Ah,” Ben said when he followed her gaze. “He practices again.”

“He does that often,” Nora replied. “Multiple times to-day.”

“He likes to keep strong,” Ben said. “People lose skills they do not use.”

“Just look at him, Ben,” she whispered. “So graceful. He moves like a cat. I admit I was frazzled when I was set upon in the forest, but when he fought, it almost looked like he was in a choreographed dance.”

“He is a fine fighter, indeed,” Ben said. “He watches what goes on around him, absorbs everything he sees. I imagine he could run this property blindfolded and know exactly how many steps it would take him to get from one building to the next.”

When she sensed Jack looking up, Nora moved back from the window, not wishing to be caught watching again.

“He’s careful,” Ben continued. “He’s not going to make a rash decision until he is sure of his footing and his place. I was thinking I would inquire if he would agree to escort you to Bos-ton. That is not a man who would settle for being a mere body-guard, and nor should he. He brings different experiences and perspective with him. You could use fresh ideas.”

“He’s a man that will want to make all the decisions and expect me to blindly follow along, I imagine,” Nora said, turn-ing from the window.

“I have no doubt you won’t allow him to do so,” Ben chuckled. “You are a woman who knows her mind and purpose. You are not without intelligence and skills yourself. Our new friend there is a man who knows his own mind, as well, but I think, perhaps, he might see you as helpless at the moment. He did have to save you in the woods. You’ll prove to him otherwise on your journey. Listen to each other, learn from each oth-er. Even if he isn’t your Warrior, he will have things to teach you. There are lessons to learn from everyone you meet.”

“Benjamin Franklin, the prophet,” Nora laughed. “You may add that to your already long list of attributes and qualifica-tions.”

“Merely an old man who has seen enough,” Ben sighed. He moved away from the window and sat in a nearby wingback chair. He removed his spectacles and rubbed them with the hem of his shirt to remove the always present smudges they seemed to possess. “Would that I had the talent of your Fox. I would know what the British plan to do. I would know how we Colo-nists faired in our own quest. I would know how your story ends. Instead, I search my aging mind and soul for wisdom I may not have acquired along the way.”

“You don’t need to age anymore,” Nora whispered. She looked down and pressed her fingers along the window’s sill.

“If the elixir could turn back the clock, perhaps,” Ben smiled mischievously. “But who wants to live forever as an old man? I would have rather been a young pup like the one outside with the impressive fighting skills. Besides, everything you have left is for your Warrior. You speak from your heart now and not your head. I have taught you otherwise.” Ben heaved himself out of his chair and returned to the window.

Nora countered by moving to the fireplace. Kneeling on the floor, she pulled up a loose floorboard and gently removed a wooden box. She lifted the lid and removed the object, pulling away the oilcloth to reveal a stone that fit in the palm of her hand. It was warm, rough, and russet-colored. Such an unassum-ing looking rock.

A rock that could and had started wars.

A rock that was rumored to turn base metals into gold and silver. A rock that produced an elixir that gave its consumer eternal life and superior healing powers, so said the legend, and Nora had first-hand proof of its ability to grant eternal life.

And it was a rock that had caused her nothing but trouble since she’d taken possession of it.

The Philosopher’s Stone.

Still, she was its guardian, so she respected its power and her quest to protect it.

“So many times,” she murmured to Ben as she ran her fingers along its surface. “So many times I was tempted to just bury it in the woods of whatever random forest I hid in, or drop it over the rail and into the ocean from a ship I was a passenger on. Anything to rid myself of its burden and put an end to this ridiculous constant battle for power and possession.”

Ben cocked his head to the side and regarded her. “And so, why haven’t you?”

Nora enfolded the stone in both her hands and looked up to Ben with a soft smile. “If I do, it won’t bring my family back to me, will it? I still won’t know where my friends are. They won’t know there’s nothing to hide from anymore. Maybe they aren’t being pursued as I am. Maybe they’re leading normal lives and simply moving on when people start to comment on their perpetual youthful appearance. Perhaps it is just I who is cursed with the constant threat of capture and death.”

“And yet?”

“And yet it was given to me to protect. Why that old man gave this powerful, mythical object to me to act as its safe keep-er, I’ll never know.”

“Almost a century later, and you still have it,” Ben noted. “Perhaps you lost it a time or two, but there it sits in your hand, safe and sound.”

“It would be safe and sound at the bottom of the ocean, as well,” she laughed.

“That it would,” Ben nodded. “But it wouldn’t be able to serve its purpose. Think of all the sick people this could heal. Once you find the Scholar and the Healer, think of the good you could do. It could heal cancer or a plague.”

“If I can keep possession of it that long.”

“Well, that is why you need your Warrior. And maybe you will find him soon. Perhaps you already have.”

Nora stood back up and crossed to the window. Jack still sparred on the lawn with knives against an invisible partner. She watched him and whispered, “Perhaps.”

“Tell me what Thomas said,” Ben said, making himself more comfortable.

“Mr. Jefferson is a real man of science,” Nora smiled, “though he calls himself a planter. He’s building the most mag-nificent looking house. He named it Monticello. It will take a long time to complete, but the house is already a beautiful start.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Ben said, waving his hand. “I hear about his mountain home in his correspondence ad nauseum. What did he say about the stone?”

“He was perplexed by it. He promised to research the process of extracting the elixir from the stone, but he didn’t believe it possible. He was more interested in the legend
surround-ing it.”

“I cannot think what else to try,” Ben shrugged. “Maybe Thomas’ reading will come up with more. Maybe he will find something about your Scholar. Perhaps she left a paper
trail.”

Nora tilted her head against the glass and continued to watch Jack. “Would that it was so easy.”