Set in Stone (69 page)

"I doubt that."

"How can you? Everyone knows it."

"Not in Granadure." Verena stepped close and placed her hands on his chest. "Connor, do you really think our powers, generated by the same stones, work any differently because we've drawn a line on a map and call ourselves by a different name?"

"How else could you explain it?"

"I don't know, Connor. All I know is that in Granadure we don't have Cursed, we don't need Patronage. Anyone found with the gift of stone affinities is called Petralist."

"Not just the nobles?"

"Of course not. I can't answer all your questions, but I know Kilian could."

Connor grimaced. "Kilian's not very happy with me right now."

"He'll forgive you, especially when you return Nicklaus to him."

Connor looked around. "Where is Nicklaus?"

"He probably ran off again, but he won't wander far."

They headed up the trail, calling for Nicklaus. While they listened for a reply, Verena said, "Connor, the powers themselves don't define you. It's only a curse if you let it be."

"It's not that simple."

Before she could reply, a breathless Nicklaus pushed through some brush. "Connor, come look. The soldiers are getting ready to fight."

Connor and Verena followed him up a short, steep slope. At the top, they found an unobstructed view over the valley. South of where they crouched, and three thousand feet below, Carbrey's army was massing along the edge of the forest at the base of the long slope up to the plateau. Companies were already assembled, their armor flashing in the early morning sun.

Atop the plateau, Wolfram's army stood assembled, ready for battle. His much smaller force marshaled at the lip of the plateau, several ranks deep. Without quartzite, Connor could not see many details.

He groaned. "This can't be happening. Not yet."

Verena frowned. "Wolfram should've withdrawn by now. What's he waiting for?"

Connor scooped up Nicklaus, "He doesn't know you're free. Come on, we have to hurry." He barreled down the thickly covered slope, crashing headlong through the brush to reach the trail. Verena followed more slowly. She looked worried, and chewed her lip.

"Hurry, Verena!"

"Connor, there's something I think you should know."

"Not now. We have to get back or Wolfram will kill my family. And if he doesn't, Carbrey will."

"But, Connor."

"Later. Can you fly for a while?"

"What?" She seemed dazed. The climb must have exhausted her.

"Use the block. Can you do it until we get back to the trail above Quarry Road?"

"Yes, there's enough power left. But Connor, listen."

"I don't have time to waste! My family's going to die!" He tapped basalt and sprinted up the trail with Nicklaus.

As he ran, he couldn't shake a growing dread. No matter how deep he drew from the basalt, he wouldn't be able to outrun the fate that hung over Alasdair.

Chapter 84

Hendry, who sat resting on a block of recently-cut granite in the quarry, hefted a precious diorite chisel and gestured with it. "Hamish, do you really understand what they did to these?"

"Sort of." He shifted the canvas sack holding his sword over one shoulder, took the proffered chisel and concentrated over it.

He'd never been allowed to hold one of the precious chisels before, and barely suppressed a grin as a thrill of excitement coursed through him. He'd never expected to touch a diorite chisel, and the Ashlar himself was asking
him
about them.

He instantly recognized the thrumming power concealed in the chisel. He slid his fingers across the smooth, two-foot shaft and barely resisted the urge to lick it. He'd never tasted diorite, but Hendry would probably never let him hold it again if he did.

After a moment's study, he detected the almost imperceptible crack in the stone where Dierk had pried open just a tiny fraction of its power. He glanced at the twenty-foot deep square tunnel they'd bored into the mountain in just two hours with the enhanced chisels, and shivered with the possibilities.

With its power completely sealed, the diorite chisels in the hand of experienced Cutters sliced through living granite a hundred times faster than steel, in much the same way the Ashlar's hammer pounded stones to dust. The miniscule amount of power released by Dierk magnified the chisels' effectiveness a thousand times. Every blow drove the chisel half its length into the stone amidst an explosion of granite chips.

What would happen if he opened the crack all the way?

The memory of the small handful of diorite poured into the projectile the Grandurians had launched down the valley flashed into his mind. The explosion had reared a hundred feet.

He handed the chisel back to Hendry.

"What can you feel?" Hendry asked.

For the first time in his life, someone spoke to Hamish with respect, and he couldn't help grinning.

"There's power in the stone."

Stuart barked a laugh. "Didn't even need to lick it to figure that one out, did you?"

"Eat rocks, block-head."

Stuart glared, but did not dare do more with Hendry and the other Cutters looking on. Hamish ignored him.

"Dierk, the Builder who touched your chisels, unlocked a little of that power. That's why it cuts so fast now."

"Do you know how it's done?"

"I'm learning."

"So you could make it even more powerful?" Stuart asked. His eyes glowed with excitement, his previous belligerence gone. "Show me."

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

"Oh, come on. I won't tease you anymore."

"Well, if I release too much, you might blow yourself up."

"Really?" Stuart looked even more excited.

"And, the more power I release, the sooner it will run out and crumble to dust."

Stuart gasped and pulled his chisel close.

Keith, the foreman, emerged from the six-foot square tunnel they'd carved into the eastern wall of the quarry. "We've got seepage."

"So soon?" Hendry asked.

"That last blow did it. Any more, and we'll breach the wall and let the river in."

Hamish never would have imagined the water could lie so close to the wall. All they ever had to do was dig twenty feet to the east, and the quarry would've flooded too. Given the situation, it looked like nothing could stop that from happening.

Keith dropped onto a block nearby and blew out a tired breath as he shed his helmet and protective goggles. One of the other Cutters brought him some water. The rest of them sat on surrounding blocks, forced to wait for a turn with one of the only three chisels returned to them for the work.

Hendry's Ashlar hammer had also been returned, although so far he'd declined to pound any of the blocks they'd cut out of the mountain to dust. He didn't want to provide any new power for the Grandurian Petralists.

Anika descended the steep road from the cut in the ridge that led to Quarry Road. "Why stop?"

Hendry said, "The stone is starting to seep. It's about to flood."

"Is good," Anika said. "Wait I give command."

"We'll wait," Hendry said. After Anika turned and headed back up the slope he added, "We can't do anything else."

"Actually, we can," Hamish said.

"What are you talking about?" Keith growled from where he crouched in the mouth of the square tunnel, eyeing Anika's back.

Hamish almost teased him about hiding, but since Keith could squash him like a bug, he decided against it. Keith was ornery enough since Anika picked him up like a little boy when he'd mouthed off to her earlier.

She'd held him up with one hand and said, "Cut, or I spank."

Just thinking about the giant foreman so unmanned by the gorgeous woman made Hamish grin.

"What are you smiling at, dolt?" Keith said. "Can't answer a simple question?"

"Sorry, just enjoying a memory."

Keith scowled.

Hamish said quickly, "Listen, we need to make a run for it now, while Anika's not looking."

"Are you daft?" Keith shouted. "You're the one that told us they'll kill our families if we make a move."

Hamish made a shushing gesture and glanced up the steep road. Anika did not come to investigate the shouting. "Jean figured it out. If we run, they'll kill our families--"

"Like I just said," Keith interrupted.

"Let the boy finish," Hendry said.

Keith glared but held his tongue.

"And if our families run, they'll tie us up and leave us here to drown."

"Tallan-loving pedra spawn," Stuart said and spat.

"The key is we all have to act at the same time."

"Impossible," Keith snorted. "You've sucked on too many rocks."

Stuart chuckled, "Probably sucked on some nuall dung by mistake."

Hendry said, "Jean's a bright lass. What's the signal?"

"We light a torch and wave it on the edge by the crane. They see it and start running. We do the same."

Hendry nodded. "It's simple enough, it might work."

"You've gone cracked, Hendry. You really want to put our families at risk?" Keith said.

"They're already at risk. If the fighting goes bad, you think they'll just let us go?"

Keith muttered, "They might."

"No, they won't," Hendry said fiercely. "We're the ones that need to take responsibility for our families. We have to act, or we'll all die."

"And what if they catch us?" Keith protested. "We got no weapons against Petralists."

Hamish said, "Actually, I can help."

"How?"

He extended a hand toward Stuart. "Let me see your chisel."

"No way." Stuart edged away.

"Don't be a coward, son. Give him the blasted chisel."

"Don't break it," Stuart warned as he hesitantly handed it over.

Hamish took it and concentrated over it. Just like Hendry's chisel, Dierk had opened this one a crack. He probed the crack and, as he concentrated on the stone, he couldn't help but lick the handle.

An explosion of taste shot through his tongue and rippled out to the rest of his body. His face flushed with sudden heat, and he gasped with the intensity of it. He'd never tasted anything so alive, so dangerous in his entire life. It tasted fierce, like a pedra's blood-lust scream bottled up and heated to boiling.

"Aw, that's disgusting," Stuart complained and snatched for the chisel.

Hamish pulled it away. "It's how I work. You don't want it to crumble to dust, do you?"

"No!" Stuart hovered, hands clenching, but did not advance.

Hamish forced down a smile. He'd never cowered Stuart like that before.

Although he wasn't sure he should have tasted the stone with its power cracked. He hesitated to unlock any more of the raw power sheathed in the innocent looking chisel.

He didn't have a choice.

Hamish closed his eyes, breathing slow and steady, as he gently pried at the inner crack holding the power in check. It shifted a hair, and he gasped at the rush of lightning-like power that rippled through his arms.

"What?" Stuart demanded. "What happened?"

Hamish handed the chisel over and pointed at a granite block a couple dozen feet away. "Try it out. Wear your protection."

Stuart donned one of the steel helmets and special goggles, set the chisel and struck a solid blow with his hammer.

The granite block exploded.

A thunderclap rocked the quarry and white powder blasted in every direction, covering them all in its billowing cloud. Tiny pellets of granite stung Hamish's face. The dust clung to his mouth like old bread, and smelled like charred stone.

When the dust cleared, Stuart stood in a thigh-deep pile of granite rubble, covered head to toe with a thick layer of white powder. He looked from the chisel to the destruction he'd wreaked and laughed.