"Hmm?" Uri the jeweler mumbled with a stone in his hand.
"Lapis, from the Shore of Songs," said the boy.
"And, hmm?"
"Jasper. Red Rock."
Uri furrowed his brow. "Don't heed the tale of every thirsty fool, boy."
The boy seemed to ignore him. He pointed to a small, dusky shard the jeweler kept in a phial on the high shelf of a pine cabinet. "Did it madden Priam, truly?"
Uri glanced over his shoulder at the black glass and sighed. "Indeed, boy. Though I've heard it told all kings are mad. Who else would think themselves fit to rule as Eaters?"
"From which shore was it culled?" asked the boy.
"None of this world. Do you know the tale of Ptoh?"
"No," the boy lied.