Set in Stone (25 page)

"Maybe fifteen minutes."

The Healer frowned. "You're the Cursed boy, yes?"

"Yes."

"What's your affinity?"

"I don't know."

"Well, I can guess. Rare to show a secondary affinity without prior training." The Healer continued to mutter to himself, but Connor's mind was too preoccupied by what he'd just learned about granite powder. He needed to understand why, or how it worked.

The Healer gasped and drew Connor's attention. The old man was staring at Connor's chest, one shaking hand reaching out toward him. Connor looked down as the Healer hesitantly touched the carved sandstone pendant he wore around his neck.

As the Healer's fingers touched the pendant, a wave of warmth exploded through Connor and he rocked backward.

The Healer grinned like a little boy. "Astounding. Where did you get that, boy?"

Connor clutched the pendant. He felt suddenly wonderful. All the exhaustion and pain had washed out of him. He'd heard wonderful things about Healers, but had never imagined such a thing.

"That pendant, boy," the Healer repeated. "Where'd you get it?"

"It was a gift from my aunt."

"Such a gift," the Healer said in an awed voice.

Connor shrugged. "She's a sculptor. It's what she does."

The Healer grinned. "You have no idea, do you?"

"Probably not. Why don't you explain it?"

"In time, lad." The old man moved away to the next patient.

Connor headed back to where Rory and Shona were talking with Rory's sergeants. The cryptic answer kind of killed the moment. He gingerly touched his face, probing the well-formed scabs.

Impressive. He had so much to learn.

"Glad to see you're alive, lad," Captain Rory said with a smile when he joined them. "I saw that beast haul you away and thought you were a dead man."

"I got lucky," he said again.

Rory laughed, "Good lad." Then his expression turned serious. "Tell me about your town. Where do they store the powder?"

"In the Powder House down by the loch." Connor told him about it, the wall gate, the layout of the town, and the plateau with Lord Gavin's manor house looking out over the valley.

Rory glanced at the sun, "We can work with that. We attack after dark."

He issued orders to his men, and the company moved out.

Chapter 26

Verena opened the door to Lord Gavin's study, which now served as Ilse's command center, to allow Erich to enter. He saluted to Ilse and spared a glance at Kilian, who snored softly in a plush couch against one wall.

"Captain, we have located the trail."

"That was fast."

"Without the pigeon I conjured with Kilian's help, I never would have found it. One of the locals pointed out Mount Ingram, but the boy must be part mountain goat to have discovered the trail."

"Very well."

As Erich provided a detailed description of the trail's location, Verena thought of the boy Connor. He had surprised them all with his daring rescue of Shona. Verena had never seen Anika so angry, and she shuddered to think what the powerful woman would do to Connor if she ever got her hands on him again.

Verena found it hard to hate Connor. He did not have all the facts, so of course his loyalty to Shona would trump the rightness of their cause. Still, he had made things very complicated. Verena trusted Ilse completely, but the company was now caught in a perilous trap. The location of the trail provided the one small chance they might survive the coming confrontation.

Ilse wrote a short note, rolled it tight, and slipped it into a tiny carrier tube and prepared for another summoning. Verena watched with interest. The summoning of the spectacular pedra had proved fascinating, and she could still scarce believe they managed it.

Kilian had played the critical role in that summoning, wrapping Ilse's granite strength with his water powers that gave the summoned creature life. The account he'd shared of the battle with the Obrioners just before he passed out was incredible.

Ilse dipped her hand into a pouch of granite powder to restore her Petralist strength by absorbing it through her skin. Verena sometimes wished she could touch the power of stones like the Petralists, but only rarely. She loved her connection. Stones spoke to her through their taste, through the flickering of their powers against her fingers.

As a Builder, she could somehow reach into the power stones and unlock their power to the world. Petralists could only use that power within themselves, or drive it out, wrapped in elemental life, to form their conjured creations, but for Verena there were no limits.

Builders had existed in times of old, ancient days before the Tallan Wars, before Granadure broke free of the rule of the old queen. Every Builder died in those dark days, slaughtered to protect dark secrets no one could even guess at any more, although shadows of their previous accomplishments still dotted the land. Speedcaravans, and even the legendary Builded wall of Merkland were some of the ancient relics.

Verena stood at the vanguard of re-kindled Builder powers. They had made such progress in the last three years, but those baby steps only highlighted how much still remained to be learned. Verena planned to learn it all.

Ilse drove her hand into a bucket of clay that sat on her desk and bowed her head in concentration. The conjuring process still mystified Verena, although she hoped to one day replicate it with her Builded stones. Ilse had explained that she focused her granite strength into a tight ball before wrapping it with the steady, solid earth power of slate. She would direct the combined force out through the hand driven into the bucket of clay, using its mass to form the conjuring based on the image she held in her mind.

Verena yearned to dip her own finger into the bucket, or to taste the clay that began to bubble as Ilse's power infused it. The air above the bucket shimmered and split into rainbows of multi-colored light. The scent of recently turned earth filled the room while the brilliant colors reflected off the expensive leather-bound books and darkly polished furniture of the study. The light flared, and the bucket rattled where it sat on the desk.

With a tiny thunderclap, it was over. The empty bucket fell to the floor with a clang. Perched on the desk stood a perfectly sculpted stone pigeon. It cooed and nuzzled Ilse's still-extended hand.

Verena approached and stroked the stone pigeon's smooth feathers. This particular conjuring was Ilse's specialty, and this one looked exceptional. The heavy local clay mixed well with the local granite.

Calling forth that stone pedra earlier had taxed Ilse, and Verena had summoned the healer to check on her before she attempted the second, far simpler summoning. Kilian, who had remained lying in the wagon that had held the clay they used in that summoning, did not move until after the conjured beast died in battle. He had barely held on long enough to relate the story before drifting off to sleep again.

Verena glanced at the man. He looked barely forty years old, but he had to be far older than that. The rumors she'd heard of him suggested deep secrets and a wealth of lore knowledge she yearned to explore after they completed the mission.

Although the great stone pedra had been destroyed, the delay Kilian gained was well worth the price. Ilse was playing a dangerous game, walking a tightrope over a deadly gulf. One misstep would prove fatal.

Ilse attached the messenger tube to the stone pigeon's leg, pushed open the study's window, and tossed the little bird skyward. It shot up into the late afternoon sky and flapped northward.

Although part of her mind flew with the bird, she did not appear very distracted by the effort. "I expect the attack after dark."

Verena placed a new wafer of slate on the desk for Ilse and then rubbed her hand absently over her satchel. "That's plenty of time."

"Much depends on you tonight," Ilse said.

"I know," Verena said excitedly as she considered the myriad combinations she could deploy, most of which she had never tried before.

"I almost feel sorry for them. They have no idea what's about to happen."

Chapter 27

Connor led Rory's strike force upriver for two miles before the captain called a halt and they settled behind a thick screen of pine trees near the trail to wait for nightfall. Connor gratefully accepted some food, but as much as he longed to lie down under a tree and sleep, he instead moved to where the captain and Shona were speaking near the center of the company.

"Get some sleep, lad," Rory said when Connor joined them.

"Thank you, sir. I plan to." Connor hesitated and then continued in a rush. "Can you tell me what just happened? That thing was no pedra."

"No, lad, it was conjured, and by a mighty powerful Petralist too."

"I don't understand."

"Conjuring is a delicate business," Rory said. "Even a small creature, like a messenger bird, takes a great deal of power and control."

"And a metamorphic gift," the old Healer piped in from where he sat nearby.

"A what?" Connor asked.

Shona sighed. "You won't understand for a while, Connor. We don't even know your affinity yet."

"No better time than the present," Rory said. "We don't have all the stones here, but we know where to start."

Connor licked suddenly dry lips as he realized they meant to test him.

The Guardians drew near, and the one who had teased Connor when they first met said, "You said you hit things?"

"Aye."

The burly soldier nodded. "I started that way too."

"Really?"

He nodded. "Name's Tomas." He extended to Connor a small leather pouch.

Shona frowned. "We don't have powder to waste."

"It's not a waste," Rory said. "You wish to grant Patronage, you need to know his affinity."

Connor took the leather pouch cautiously, not sure what would happen. He sat on a nearby log, pried open the drawstring and peeked inside.

Granite powder, of course. So familiar, and yet in that moment, somehow alien.

Tomas said, "Granite's an igneous stone, lad. Absorbs through the skin." He made a dipping motion with one hand. "Go on, now."

Connor forced aside gnawing fear. This is what he wanted. These were Guardians teaching him, so now he could finally begin answering all the questions. He drove his hand into the granite powder, and its familiar grit eased a little of his nervousness.

Tomas leaned forward a little, his face eager. "Concentrate, lad."

"On what?"

"On the granite, of course."

That didn't entirely make sense, but Connor tried. With everyone watching him, he felt incredibly self-conscious, and felt nothing but granite between his fingers. He didn't know what they wanted him to do, but nothing was happening.

Shona sat beside him and Connor was intensely aware of her leather-clad form so close. She placed one hand over his eyes and leaned close to whisper softly in his ear.

"Relax, Connor. Nothing exists but the granite."