"Instead, there was a quiet silence, like an afternoon in spring. The birds, which had been stricken into silence, began singing in the trees, and the air itself seemed full of light and laughter. The enemy stood about as though lost or confused, and the eerily silent wail of their master seemed to signal the fall of whatever will held them together. Many of our foemen fled, dropping their weapons, with no will to master their actions. The others simply withdrew, disappearing into the
woods."
Lily stared in wonder. "But I did not strive for mastery of the stone."
"No," said Belloc, a bit sheepishly, "and you did well not to. That was my mistake. The stone, like you, is a thing of the earth. Instead of trying to master the stone for your own purposes, you guided the stone into remembering itself."
"I believe that I have seen stones of similar nature before!" said Dorain, frowing in recognition. "But they were very small. We used to find them in stream beds when I was a child near Imlandon in Normandon. Small woodland animals and birds seemed drawn to them. They are often found in the nests of birds, such as crows, ravens, magpies and jays."
"You are not mistaken," said Belloc. "In their natural state, such stones are just as you describe them: a mere harmless curiosity. The tiny stones you speak of are called faerie-stones. They are often used either as adornment, or as an ingredient in potions, unguents or medicaments when crushed into powder."