The Scrying Crystal

Image by rihaij from Pixabay



“Tell me, girl! What do you see?” the old woman demanded,
her fingers shaking in anticipation.

Mary held the frozen globe lightly, worried that either her
fingers might freeze to it, or melt right through. “I… I don’t know.” Her eyes
narrowed. A single ray of sunlight danced across the frosty bottom half of the
sphere. There did seem to be something there…

Mary dropped the crystal with a gasp.

“No!” the old woman said, going to her knees and scooping
the delicate bauble up from the sharp peaks of frost. It was intact, but she
turned to the girl in anger. “Do you realize what you could have done?”

“I’m sorry,” Mary said, taking two small steps away from the
strange woman.

“No, don’t go! I must know what you saw.”

Mary hesitated, wanting to run back home and forget she ever
saw the old woman and her scrying crystal. Seeing the desperation in the woman’s
eyes as she knelt there clutching it with all the tenderness normally reserved
for a baby, Mary felt pity.

“There was something dark. At first, just a pinprick, but it
got larger, like it was coming closer. Then it was right in front of me, like
the head and shoulders of someone in a hoodie. And he reached toward me! It
looked like he was would grab my hand right through the crystal, so I let go!”

“You saw my son! Please! Was he happy? Is he still there?
Look again!”

Mary hesitantly took the proffered crystal, but the moment
she touched it, a hand grasped hers from within. A surge like electricity went
through her, and a second later a man stood where she had been.

“So cold…”

“Let me warm you, son,” the old woman said, tossing the
crystal aside.

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