Stonewiser: The Heart of the Stone, page 5
“Perhaps I can entice the wiser,” Kael said. “Perhaps you and I can strike a bargain.”
“A bargain?”
“Guild style. A quick bargain too, by the smell of things. You ought to do well trading, you're a stonewiser.”
“What do you propose?”
“You come to the Domain to wise for the New Blood and only for the New Blood. I can make some interesting stones available to you.”
“The type of stones that interest me don't exist in the Rotten Domain.”
“Are you sure?”
Sariah wasn't sure of anything lately.
“Twin stones,” he said. “More than one pair.”
She was back on the stool, wincing from the drop. Was it possible?
“How do I know you speak truth? For all I know, you could have surmised my interest in twin stones from what you heard at the judgment and are now lying to serve your purposes.”
“Aye, I heard a lot at the judgment, even stuff you didn't say.” He flashed his furious half-grin. “But here's the deal. No twin stones, no wising. Oath bound. Would we come this far to fetch a wiser who won't wise?”
“How do you know I'll keep my part of the bargain?”
“A stonewiser's oath is sacred in the Domain,” Metelaus said. “We're not savages.”
Master Arron. The Rotten Domain. Twin stones. The headache ground at her brain. The Guild and the New Blood were two bad options, but she had no time to ponder the implications of deserting one for the other. Meliahs forgive her. Quickly now. She would lie if she had to.
“My oath is granted.” For once, she'd startled the men into silence. “No twin stones, no wising.”
At last, the New Blood began to make haste. Kael's brothers were on their feet and out of the cage. “I'll get the packs,” Metelaus said. “You go keep watch.”
“You'll be happy among us.” Lazar slipped through the door and up the stairs with graceful caution.
Kael went directly to the pile of weapons, but his furious glare was on Sariah, the black eye darker than a curse under his broken eyebrow. “I don't trust Goodlanders or wisers. You're lying. I can tell when you lie.”
Sariah should have slapped the New Blood for his insult, but she didn't have the gall to smack an innocent man. “It was your damn idea. I'll come.”
“No, you won't.” A new voice echoed in the cellar. “I forbid it.” The Prime Hand stepped out from a secret door hidden behind a rack of pikes.
“Mistress Grimly?” Sariah couldn't believe her eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“Same as you,” Kael said. “Bargaining.”
Mistress Grimly's glare should have evaporated Kael, but in his coolness, he seemed suddenly indestructible. Mistress Grimly was equally in control. Her grizzled hair glared against the black cowl she wore despite the heat. Not a drop of sweat sullied her furrowed forehead.
“Marcher Metelaus, I agreed to your leaving, but I'll not allow you to take this stonewiser with you,” the mistress said.
“You agreed? To their escape?”
“The Prime Hand proposed a fair agreement,” Metelaus said.
“Here are your seeds.” Mistress Grimly tossed a full sack at Metelaus's feet. “Make sure you perform the deed.”
“What deed?” Sariah asked.
“My condolences, Prime Hand,” Kael said. “Trust is dead in the Guild.”
“You're a disrespectful fool,” the Prime Hand said.
“No need to fret over a rash New Blood's poor manners,” Metelaus said. “We're going.” He took his weapons belt from Kael, added the seed to his baggage, and began to stuff his pack with provisions from the guard's shelves. Kael strapped on his weapons belt, keeping a cautious eye on both the mistress and Sariah.
“Mine's a fair bargain,” Mistress Grimly said. “It'll spare you much blood and quite a few parts. Send us a child of your blood and we'll train a stonewiser for you.”
“We'll never sell you our children.” Kael unsheathed one of his crescent-shaped swords, checked it quickly, and snapped it back in its sheath. “Never.”
“You can't have this stonewiser,” the Prime Hand said. “She's leased to Master Arron—at least she was before tonight. You didn't kill the fool, did you, Sariah? Just because he needed killing didn't grant you the right to do it.”
Sariah couldn't understand. For as long as she remembered, the Prime Hand had been an admired ruler who had protected the Goodlands from the rot with ironclad resolve. But the woman who faced her now was unmistakably keen, clearly engaged in intrigues, and well informed. Mistress Grimly knew of Master Arron's abuses and condoned them.
“This stonewiser won't do well for the New Blood,” the mistress said. “She's ill-disciplined and reckless. Look at her. She isn't well and her hand may not recover. What will the New Blood do with a cripple stonewiser? Put her to work in your demesnes? Feed her to the eels?”
Eels? People ate eels, not the other way around.
The men stopped their preparations. Their incongruent stares assessed Sariah coldly. Metelaus yanked a small stone amulet from his neck. “Settle the matter.” He tossed the stone to Sariah. “Translate it to the word. Quickly, nothing fancy.”
Sariah caught it in her good hand. It was a small stone, no bigger than a pebble, an easy wising. Its trance wasn't powerful but it was graspable. With a gentle swoosh, the chamber blurred. A warm rush tingled in her body, coaxing her mind to yield, a pleasing, comforting summons opposite in every way to her twin stone wising. Sariah's mind quickened to heed the stone's call like iron rushing to the lodestone.
“A girl,” she said, clenching the stone. “A pretty blond girl with curls galore.”
“That's Mia,” Metelaus said.
“Five pretty blond girls.” For a moment, Sariah was in Metelaus's body receiving a flurry of kisses. The kisses felt real on her cheek. She experienced tenderness she didn't know existed.
“A boy.” She laughed when he stuck out his tongue at the girls. “Wait. Two, three, four, is it possible? Your children?” She opened her eyes. “You have lots of children.”
Metelaus smiled.
Sariah closed her eyes again. “The sun is setting. The children hold candles as you leave. May the stones guide your way; may you find your goddess again. They're saying good-bye.”
The sight receded and a multitude of candles floated in a vast lake. Sariah was loath to surrender the peace that settled over her soul. The New Blood, on the other hand, were not in a contemplative mood.
“She can wise,” Kael said. “Let's go.”
Mistress Grimly glared. “The New Blood waste stone for no good use.”
“I thank the stones most for the little pleasures they grant.” Metelaus returned the little memory stone to his neck and donned his pack.
Sariah was used to wising agreements and wills, ancient tales and bloody battles. The New Blood used stones in ways she couldn't have foreseen, to capture simple sights, to carry private memories, not for profit but to grant a mind pleasure. The mere notion was astounding.
“Sariah, stay with us. We are your kind,” Mistress Grimly said. “You've never been outside the keep. You'll suffer more heartbreak than a wiser can stand.”
“You haven't mentioned that the Guild will be lesser for her absence.” Kael selected a coil of rope from the rafters. “Your investment will suffer. Your stonewiser's pride will be affronted. Arron's lease will be broken.”
“You'll regret your choice,” Mistress Grimly said.
“Choice lessens regret,” Sariah said. “I long to choose.”
Lazar came back, and was unfazed by the mistress's presence in the chamber. “The blaze is dying down,” he reported, grabbing his pack. “The guard will return soon.”
“There will be a stonewiser hunter,” Mistress Grimly said.
“A hunter …” Sariah had heard the stories.
“You'll be safe with us,” Lazar said.
“You make vain promises, New Blood,” Mistress Grimly said. “Master Arron will be most determined. He won't spare coin to find you. And when he finds you, he'll inflict punishment of the worst kind. There hasn't been a stoning at the keep for over twenty years.”
It was a fair warning, but not as strong as the mere reminder of her new lease.
Kael entered the cage where the inert Shield lay and checked his ties’ knots. He beckoned Sariah. “Your key ring?”
It dawned on Sariah that her knuckles hurt from clutching the useless key ring. She tossed it to Kael. He locked the Shield's cage and entered the next cage over, where he dropped the key ring in the noxious hole in the ground that served as a privy. The keys’ merry clinking ended in a muted plop. Kael smirked. “That'll take some awful time to fetch.”
“The coin you confiscated from us serves as the wiser's ransom and as payment for our indulgences here today,” Metelaus said to the Prime Hand. “Our business is concluded.”
With competence, skill and speed, the New Blood moved stealthily through the door, loaded and armed, herding Sariah along. They proceeded in perfect concert, communicating through silent looks, connected without need for words. Attuned to the night, they gathered at the bottom of the steps and listened, a small pack of alert hunters. Kael nodded, grabbed a torch from the wall, and led them, not up the stairs as she expected, but rather behind the circular staircase, where he pried open an ancient wood casement to reveal a set of stone steps spiraling downwards into the darkness. Lazar took firm hold of her hand and followed Kael. Metelaus brought up the rear.
The trot down the steep stairs left Sariah panting. A rounded chamber stood at the bottom. Several arched doorways opened onto a ledge a few spans above the muddy ground, revealing a network of dark corridors. They all looked the same, but Kael didn't hesitate in choosing one. He climbed up on the ledge and disappeared into the opening.
“Sariah, you belong to the Guild.” Mistress Grimly's voice echoed in the subterranean maze. Like a bad omen, she'd followed them here. She stood on the stairs’ last step, breathing heavily. “The Guild shelters you, feeds you, sustains you. Can these New Blood protect you from the horrible death that awaits the unwary out there? Can they keep you safe from the world's violence? Will they watch over you and provide for you as only the Guild can?”
A world without the Guild. Inconceivable. Perhaps the Prime Hand was right. The corridors around her all led into darkness. Perhaps she should stay.
Kael's torch returned to illuminate the chamber. “I can't make vain promises such as the Prime Hand does,” he said. “But this I can offer you, Sariah—a share of the food we find, a stake in the curses and blessings of the Domain, shelter, at least most of the time, and a decent pace in good weather. I promise you'll never have to answer to another as your superior or sell yourself for coin. I promise you my protection, as fast as that which I grant on my own life, for as long as I live, and my kin's protection thereafter.”
Mistress Grimly and Metelaus gasped in unison. Lazar seemed unable to close his mouth. Kael stood as firm as the stones lining the chamber's walls, defying Mistress Grimly, the Guild, even his brothers. Sariah recognized the challenge although she didn't understand his purpose.
Metelaus looked up at Kael on the ledge. “You didn't need to—”
“But I did. We must have a stonewiser and I'll have this one.”
“It's forbidden,” Mistress Grimly croaked. “It's heresy. The Guild is your only world.”
Sariah stumbled as she climbed the ledge. She clung to Kael's arm and made it up. His hands were warm and steady in marked contrast to her own cold hands. Could she walk away from the only world she knew? Kael helped his brothers up on the ledge, but he kept his wary eyes on her. Meliahs curse him. Could he sense her confusing emotions?
“You aren't safe here,” he said. “Think about your minder.”
“What about Luar?” Sariah asked.
“This isn't the right time,” Mistress Grimly said.
“Luar's body passed through the cages on its way to the pyres,” Kael said.
Luar was dead?
“An unfortunate accident,” Mistress Grimly said. “The poor lad missed a step and—”
“An accident?” Sariah choked on her anger. “First Luar abandons me at the wising, then he lies at the judgment, and finally, conveniently, he dies?”
Kael smirked. “She isn't daft.”
“Shut up,” Sariah snapped. “My minder is dead and my deeds have caused his death. Tell me, New Blood, what did you see when you found me at the vaults?”
“It's not your tale to tell,” Metelaus warned.
Kael met her stare. “The Prime Hand was there. Your minder was strangling you.”
“What?” It made no sense. “Why?”
“The New Blood is very unwise to speak the unmentionable,” Mistress Grimly said. “Sariah, for your sake and ours, accept your fate and stay at the keep.”
Forget murder? Serve Master Arron? Refuse the stones their due? The Guild was a rot pit of intrigue. The Prime Hand had little regard for life or justice. The twin stone tales were suppressed. Sariah would have to find the stone truth on her own.
She unpinned her ornate stonewiser's brooch. Her dress felt instantly lighter without it, her neckline was empty and exposed. The silver disc was cold in her hand, but the round onyx stone embedded in the central boss was warm to her fingertips. The intricate lines of the ivy of knowledge intertwined with the circle of light flickered under Kael's torchlight. Her heart ached as bad as her head.
“Meliahs help me.” Sariah tossed the brooch at Mistress Grimly's feet. “I resign the Guild.”
SEVEN
FROM THE HIGH ramparts, the town outside the keep's walls had seemed simple to Sariah, a flat collection of low houses skirting the keep in a patchwork of gray slate and thatch roofs. The view was different from the ground. The Guild's walls loomed over the town, an incontestable presence. The squalid waddle and daub houses leaned on the keep's walls and each other like exhausted laborers. Mudded streets and back alleys slithered through the place in a tortuous maze. Even the night smelled different outside the keep, smoky and sharp, the scent of spent coal dying in the town's neglected hearths.
Sariah followed the New Blood closely. She fought the feebleness to keep pace and the vertigo too. It had started the moment she stepped outside the walls. She fathomed the sense of free falling would never stop. It was bothersome but appropriate. She had leaped from her world like a mad woman.
“Make haste,” Metelaus whispered. “We must beat the sunrise.”
“She isn't well,” Lazar said. “She can't keep up with well men.”
“Do you want me to carry you?” Kael asked.
“No, nay, no.” Sariah got a burst of strength from her legs or from her pride, she didn't care which.
She was glad to leave behind the rambling town and the keep. The forest, however, was no less disconcerting. The orderly symmetry of the keep's gardens was nothing like the forest. The gnarled trees snatched at her as she passed. The uneven ground crunched under her boots. The shifting shadows frightened her with unexpected bouts of focused moonlight followed by solid blackness.
“This way.” A callous hand dragged her along in the darkness. She recognized Kael's harsh clutch in the dark, and the distinctive heavy-footed gait that marked his shadow's progress. His was a proud walk, a quick sequence of soundless swaying steps merging with the night, a peacock's confident stride if she had ever seen one. Had he been a stone, she would have wised pure arrogance from the man.
“Wait here.”
She stood alone in a darkness that was deeper and more frightening than any dangers her stones could conceive. Her heartbeat pounded loudly in her ears. Outside. No walls. No Guild. She couldn't breathe.
A hand on her back led her towards a strange clicking, an almost imperceptible sound that fit naturally with the surroundings and reminded her of lapping water and quiet bubbles. It was the New Blood's hushed call. When they stepped into the moonlight, Kael stood with the reins of three horses clutched in his hands.
“The horses, as the Prime Hand swore,” Metelaus said. “And you doubted her oath.”
“Who knows the mind of the witch?” Kael said. “Hurry, before she springs a trap on us.”
“I don't understand. Why did she let you go?” Sariah asked. “And what's this deed you must do for Mistress Grimly?”
“Quiet, wiser, this is no time for questions,” Kael said.
The New Blood fastened their bags to the saddles and mounted the shaggy beasts.
“Only three horses,” Kael said. “You ride with me.”
“No,” Sariah said more forcefully than she meant. “I'll ride with Lazar.” Lazar's blue and green gaze was kind, unlike Kael's furious glare. She managed to mount behind Lazar without making a fool of herself, even though she thought that riding horses was an uncomfortable way to travel, especially when she rode with the memory of Master Arron's strap on her arse. The horse's wild canter confirmed her expectations: This was going to be a long, unpleasant journey.
Sariah and the New Blood dismounted their horses and hid behind an outcrop of rock when they saw the tight knot of villagers trampling the grounds of the forested vale. The success of their journey depended on their stealth. They couldn't pass until the crowd dispersed.
“Trouble, you think?” Metelaus asked Kael quietly.
“Whenever you find a crowd surrounding a trading stonewiser in the Goodlands, you can wager a full season's earnings that nothing good is about to happen.”
Indeed, a tall black-robed man stood among the crowd. Sariah couldn't hear what he was saying, but she could see a flat white stone in his hands, a kind of stone she hadn't seen before.
“He must be a traveling wiser on Guild business,” Sariah said.
“A most expensive wiser.” Kael gestured toward the line of carts piled with barrels and goods sauntering on the high road.
The Goodlands crowd gathered halfway up the opposite hill. In the valley, the stonewiser disappeared in the dense cluster of oaks, only to reappear a hundred paces later. He pressed the stone to the ground and stepped on it. He crouched and lowered his hands to the stone.
