Julia closed her hand around the moonstone. The pendent heated in her palm and through her fingers, a bright purple light shone in dazzling beams. The sounds of horses trotting, wagons rolling over cobblestone roads, and the chiming clash of steel on steel echoed throughout the room. She opened her palm and stared at the moonstone, squinting from its lavender light. The gem became like a spectral mirror, wavering like the trembling waters of a crystal pond. In its surface, the image of a woman in a heavy blue cloak with curling auburn hair took form. The woman’s eyes met Julia’s. “Hello, Julia.”
“Who are you?” Julia asked in a nervous whisper.
“I’m your grandmother, Cordelia. I’ve come to you through the timeless powers of the moonstone.”
The Magical Moonstone