stone table

"I've heard of this," I said after a moment. "A long time ago. Ebenezar called it the Stone Table."
"Yes," my godmother whispered. "Blood is power, child. Blood spilled upon that stone forever becomes a part of who holds it."
"Who holds it?"
She nodded, her green eyes luminous. "For half of the year, the Table lies within Winter. For half, within Summer."
"It changes hands," I said, understanding. "Midsummer and Midwinter."
"Yes. Summer holds the Table now. But not for much longer."
I stepped toward the Table and extended a hand. The air around it literally shook, pressing against my fingers, making my skin ripple visibly as though against a strong wind - but I felt nothing. I touched the surface of the Table itself, and could feel the power in it, buzzing through the flowing runes like electricity through high-voltage cables. The sensation engulfed my hand with sudden heat and violence, and I jerked my fingers back. They were numb, and the nails of the two that had touched the table were blackened at the edges. Wisps of smoke rose from them.
I shook my fingers and looked at my godmother. "Let me get this straight. Blood spilled onto the Table turns into power for whoever holds it. Summer now. But Winter, after tomorrow night."


Summer Knight Chapter 23, Page 271-272