"No, you were too busy complaining so loud it's a wonder you haven't alerted the entire house."
"Well, I . . . "
"And did I hear that this boy destroyed a Heatstone oven you possessed?"
"He certainly did," Lady Isobel regained a little of her offended dignity.
"I will make sure to thank him properly later."
Lady Isobel's mouth fell open and for the first time in Connor's life, she was left struggling to find words.
Shona added softly, "Since the king himself has ordered any such contraband destroyed, I am sure you've planned to reward Connor handsomely for this act of patriotism."
Lady Isobel stammered, and Lord Gavin came to her rescue. "Of course, Lady Shona. As soon as we get out of here."
"See that you do it soon, before he leaves for Merkland to begin service as Guardian."
Lady Isobel looked from Shona to Connor, her mouth moving silently. Lord Gavin patted her hand.
"Come," Rory said. "We have to leave, and quickly. Where are the Cutters?"
Connor said, "They must be at the far end, the only other good place for cells."
"Lead the way, lad."
Moira moved to stand beside Connor and took his hand despite a glare from her mother. "Can it be true, Connor?"
"It's good to see you, Moira."
He squeezed her hand, then left to lead the way south to free his father and the other Cutters. He glanced back a couple of times, and wondered. It warmed his heart to see Moira, but seeing her near Shona drove home just how different they were. Moira was a simple, country lady and he would always see her as a friend, but he'd changed a lot in the past few days, and no longer felt the same allure from her.
As he struggled to understand the change, he led the group down a long corridor with storerooms spaced evenly down its length. He stepped through the door on the far side and started through a huge open room.
Only when Lady Isobel exclaimed, "Where are all my treasures?" did Connor really look where he was going. The room was normally packed full of furniture, trunks of clothes, and other trinkets. She rarely used any of it, but seemed to take joy in simply piling it as high as possible.
The room stood completely empty but for a small table standing against the closed door on the far wall.
"What type of treasures were housed here?" Rory asked.
"All sorts of things. My things." She stepped away, hands out, as if to touch the missing possessions.
"Were they important?"
"Of course, you brainless lout."
"Keep your voice down," Rory said off-handed, but he looked to Connor and raised an eyebrow in question.
Connor shrugged. "She never actually used any of it."
"They were heirlooms," Lady Isobel exclaimed. "And don't you take that tone with me, you filthy Linn murderer."
Shona said, "You're not dead yet, but if you don't shut your mouth, that may change."
"Hurry, lad," Rory said with a frown. "Men, on the alert."
The Fast Rollers drew weapons, which startled the prisoners into a tight group in the center of the party, with Bruce in front. They hurried for the far door, but before they got halfway across the room, it opened and someone stepped through.
Verena.
Chapter 58
Dressed in her usual silk blouse, Verena gave Connor a wide smile, "Hello, Connor. That's far enough."
Behind her, a pair of soldiers placed a wide, square stone on the small table beside the door.
Connor's heart sank. It was all another trap.
"Hi, Verena," he said in a resigned voice.
Shona gave him an angry glare and stepped to the front of the group. "I'll handle this." She raised her sword and charged.
Connor moved to stop her, but Rory caught his arm. "Don't interfere, lad."
Shona closed fast on Verena, but the Builder raised one eyebrow, turned, and touched the stone sitting against the wall.
A ferocious wind blasted out of the stone. It struck the entire group and drove them back a step. Lady Isobel shrieked as the wind caught in the many folds of her skirts and tumbled her across the room, with her servants scrambling to help.
While Connor and the others fought to hold their ground, Shona snarled like a lioness and, one heavy step after another, drove forward through the wind.
Verena, still smiling, reached back and accepted a small leather sack from one of the soldiers. She dumped it into the wind.
Flour.
White powder exploded into the room, and most of it hit Shona in the face, instantly coating her in white. She muttered something vile and rubbed at her eyes. She stumbled, and the wind instantly tossed her back. She fell and slid despite slapping uselessly against the smooth stone floor until Rory caught her and helped her back to her feet.
"Are you willing to surrender now?" Verena asked pleasantly.
"You're dead," Shona spat. The threat would have been far more effective if she hadn't been covered in flour.
Verena whistled, and the door behind them opened. Anika and Erich, the sibling Petralists, stepped into the room, followed by half a dozen crossbowmen.
Anika smiled happily. "My Rory, we good time wrestle now."
"I'm all yours, Anika."
"Oh, please," Shona said. "We're at war here, Captain."
The hulking Erich scowled from his sister to Rory and said, "Surrender or many hurts. I beat you two times."
"I am sick of all the talking," Shona snarled, and her body hardened into the perfect lines of granite power. "Captain, I want to . . . chugga . . . doo."
"What was that?"
Her voice trailed off into a groan and she toppled slowly forward and fell hard on her face.
On the far side of the room, Verena clapped her hands, "I just love it when she does that."
"What did you do?" Connor dropped to the floor beside Shona.
Verena waved the sack she'd dumped into the wind. "Wasn't just flour she ran into."
"Weakening agent," Rory said.
"Think it got us too, Captain?" Tomas muttered, and spat on the floor.
"Don't know, but we can't risk it. Untap, lads."
"Those crossbows are looking pretty ugly right now, sir," Tomas said.
Rory nodded. "Anika's going to break me in half."
Erich tossed several pairs of steel shackles into the room, and their clanging on the floor sounded to Connor like the slamming of prison doors.
"Surrender, or many hurts."
Anika shrugged and blew Rory a kiss.
Rory looked from Verena to the Petralists, and their crossbow-wielding troops, to the shackles, clearly torn. Connor checked on Shona and found her breathing, but unconscious.
They'd failed. So many people had died to give them a chance to free the prisoners, to end this conflict. So many more would be endangered if they failed.
Would his own family die?
The thought enraged Connor. He looked from the unconscious form of Shona to Moira, who huddled with her family. She looked back at him, terror in her eyes, but trusting him to help.
He couldn't let her down. He had to act, had to do something.
He slipped a hand into his pouch, although he wasn't sure what he could do. Quartzite wouldn't help, and he didn't have any igneous stones. There had to be something.
His fingers closed around the wafer of marble.
The crazed look he'd seen in Captain Aonghus' face was exactly what he needed. He leaned over Shona, as if to check on her, and slid the wafer under his tongue.
Erich took a step into the room. "No wait. Put on bracelet."
Verena giggled, "Erich, just don't talk."
Connor sucked hard on the marble, but it was a rock. It tasted like rock.
Then it didn't.
A jolt of spicy heat erupted into his mouth from the stone, and Connor gasped at the intensity of it. He loved spicy food, but even the spice roots he ate during the Sogail failed to match the riot of flavor exploding across his tongue.
Verena said, "Connor, what are you doing?"
He couldn't answer. The heat intensified until it felt like his mouth was actually burning.
Erich lost patience and said, "Shoot Captain."
Rory snarled, "Max tap, lads!"
As one, the Fast Rollers' skin faded to gray and their bodies swelled with power.
"Shoot all!" Erich roared.
Crossbows shuddered as bolts leaped into the room. Lady Isobel shrieked and pushed Moira aside to throw herself to the floor, followed by her entire retinue. Moira stumbled, right in the line of fire.
Not Moira.
Time slowed and Connor did the only thing he could. Despite the pain, he drew heavily upon the marble power and shouted in agony and fear and anger.
A jet of fire exploded from his mouth.
It shot past Moira, so close her clothes smoldered. She screamed and threw herself to the side. The flames boiled onward and consumed the crossbow bolts.
Erich and Anika leaped back into the mass of hapless soldiers as the flames reached for them. The entire group fell back through the far door and slammed it shut. The fire beat against the door and it ignited.
Connor's breath failed, but the flames continued to pour forth. He couldn't stop it, did not dare close his mouth for fear of burning off his own lips. He remembered all too clearly how trying to smother the Heatstone oven had failed.
He couldn't breathe through his mouth, so he tried using his nose. The hairs in his nostrils singed.
Heat blistered his face. The air smelled like sulfur, and the flames roared like a nuall.
And still the fire poured from his mouth.
Connor couldn't see. The fire filled his vision and drowned out all sound. He screamed with fear and pain as the flames continued to drive out of him across the room.
Then strong hands grabbed his shoulders and spun him around. Voices shrieked as people dove again to the floor under the fiery stream. Connor tipped his head back to avoid killing anyone, and the flames tore up into the ceiling, setting ancient beams alight.
Rory's voice shouted in his ear, "Turn it off!"
Connor shook his head, and winced when the motion sent flames splashing around the room.
"Don't!" Rory shouted. "I'll guide you."
The Captain spun him until he faced Verena. She retreated and slammed the heavy door shut.
Facing directly into the wind blew the fire back toward them. The air was filling with smoke, and the heat was rising to dangerous levels.
Out of the corner of his eye, Connor saw Rory cock his arm back and throw his sword. A second later, something crashed, and the wind stopped.
Rory took Connor's shoulders, "Forward lad, through the door."
As they walked, Connor aimed the stream of fire at the floor to try and see. It blackened the floor, and through the crimson sheets, he saw Verena's air stone lying on the floor, blasting air up into the ceiling. The door beside it crackled and popped, and then collapsed in a cloud of glowing cinders.
Rory shouted, "You, girl, show us the nearest stairs, and someone grab that wind stone."
Moira edged close, her face streaked with soot, and her eyes staring wide with fear. He wanted to comfort her, but couldn't do anything but vomit fire.
There had to be a way to turn it off, but even though he tried to will the fire to cease, nothing seemed to work. He tried to spit it out, but the searing-hot marble burned into the skin under his tongue and stuck fast. Fire raged through his mouth in an unstoppable storm. He could barely breathe the charred air, and his limbs trembled with suppressed fear.
No wonder Aonghus acted crazy. Using marble pushed one to the brink of self-destruction.
Under Moira's direction, Rory guided Connor through the manor house, setting room after room ablaze. A raging Lady Isobel had to be forcibly restrained from assaulting him. Connor didn't blame her. He wanted to beat himself.