Stone Quarry The crone’s face was purple. If Roin had been two more day slow in tracking her, it would have likely been black. She was only newly dead, likely so after realizing the mystical stone in her possession had been the quarry for the prairieland’s most storied treasure hunter. He removed his glove so he could better trace the line of her esophagus, feeling for the hard lump. He felt none. He’d have to remove his treasure from her stomach. He unsheathed his dagger ready to reclaim his birthright from the witch that has stolen it from his father’s coffin.