The well! Every town had one, and maybe there was a clue to finding the speaking stones there. Excitement flowed through her and she had a burst of energy. She’d find the well and get the clue. Then they’d get the stones and go back to Rupe, victorious.
Raven turned to Ben. “The mountain told me to look for the stones in the gathering place of voices. The center of town. It said to look for the well and then we’ll find what we seek. So maybe we’ll find the stones or at least a clue.”
Ben felt Raven’s forehead. “You’re worrying me. No one is talking to you—not in the real world, anyway. I don’t know what imaginary voice you’re hearing, but we have a pretty important riddle to solve by sunset unless we want to be fried fairy and singed centaur.”
Raven giggled. “We aren’t going to be fried. But we do need to find the well in case the voice, whoever it is, is trying to help us. It’s not like we have any other leads, so what does it hurt to check it out?”
“Nothing. Let’s head that way and see what we can figure out. And you’re right, what do we have to lose, except everything?”
The contestant in black raced past Raven, heading the opposite direction, and bumping into her as he passed. She took a step to keep her balance and held back the urge to call out to him.
“Do you think he’s found one?” Raven clasped her sword hilt. “Maybe the stones really are around here somewhere.”
“He seemed to be pretty stressed so I doubt he has a stone. Not yet, anyway. Come on, let’s head that way.” Ben pointed down a side street.
The street turned into a small alcove, the colorful houses rising two stories above the dirt paths and cobblestoned roads. Shuttered windows opened into the cool air and lines of laundry connected houses between window boxes that burst with flowers of every shape, size, and color. A few chimneys puffed out smoke, even in the summer warmth and pingots perched on any empty flat spots they could find.
They passed a few people, but the crowd was much less dense than out in the market square. A stingfly buzzed past her head and she swatted at it. When the flowers died back for fall, the stingflies would go away too.
Seemed that was how things were in the real world. Treasure and abundance drew lots of interest, but when times were lean, no one cared to be around. Sometimes, she wished she’d been born with a stinger that she could pierce the hearts of her enemies with, making them give up their selfishness and pride. She smiled at the image of a fairy with a stinger on her backside.
Hag’s blood, that would be ridiculous.
“Oh look.” Raven ducked under a low-hanging vine on a gate portal. “Here’s a little area that looks promising.”
“Maybe it’s the spot. What’s in there?”
“A well.”
“Even if it’s not the town well, I could use a drink of water.” Ben followed her into the little courtyard.
“I’m thirsty too. Standing in that field was miserable.”
“Aren’t you glad you didn’t wear your armor?”
“Definitely.”
She scanned the little courtyard. Stone benches circled the area, arranged in twos so people could talk. A stone wall circled the courtyard, mossy patches and vines breaking up the austerity of the gray stone.
No one else was in the courtyard, unless you counted the pingots. The fray from the market didn’t reach the courtyard, and quiet surrounded them. The sun angled in and left deep shadows on the courtyard walls.
“This is a nice area.” Ben leaned against the wall. “Strange place for a well.”
“Not if you know where to find it.” She picked up the wooden bucket and the rope attached to its handle. “We’re still in the middle of town.”
Raven circled the well, then dropped the bucket into its depths. A splash indicated the bucket hit water and she licked her lips. A cool drink of water would be the perfect thinking companion. The mountain had said she’d find what she was looking for here, and she breathed out her anxiety.
A gray pingot with a tiny white star on its forehead landed on the well side and cocked its head. It bounced over to Raven and looked up at her. She peered into its deep, purple depths.
“Do you think he’s trying to tell us something?” she asked.
“Maybe he wants a drink, too.” Ben leaned over the well and watched the bucket.
“Maybe.” She strained to pull the bucket up, but the well mechanism was tight or old. Whatever the issue was, the bucket wasn’t coming up like it should. “Can you see the bucket?”
He peered into the well. “No, it’s too dark.”
“This rusty old well bucket isn’t budging,” she said. “I think it’s stuck.”
“Need help?” Ben reached for the crank.
“Maybe if we both crank it, it will come loose.”
The pingot flapped its wings and opened its beak like it was silently screaming.
“That’s a heavy bucket of water.” Ben asked. “But it’s moving now.”
“Keep cranking.”
The crank squeaked as they turned it, but the bucket was moving again. The rope twisted as bucket crested the top of the well. Ben grabbed it and pulled it away from the opening.
“You aren’t going to believe this.” He met her gaze.
The pingot squawked and fluttered away on feathers and fluff.
“What?” Raven asked. “What is it?”
Ben reached into the bucket and pulled up two rocks. “You don’t think—”
Yes. You found them.
“The speaking stones!”
Ben shook his head. “I can’t believe it.”
“You found these where?” Rupe turned the smooth black stones over in his hands and ran his thumbnail across the devoted runes embossed on one side of the rocks. The runes hadn’t been visible when the stones were wet but had appeared on the dry rocks as if by magic.
“Are they speaking stones?” Raven clasped her hands. “I think they are.”
“We found them in the town well. We stopped to get a drink of water, and these came up in the bucket.” Ben took a step back from Rupe. “Somehow the rocks came up in the water bucket.”
“We were looking for the stones but didn’t expect to find them there.”
“That’s the best way to find things. When you aren’t looking.” Rupe gazed across the field.
A crowd had gathered as the day waned, hoping to see the winners of the first task. They stilled, waiting on Rupe to announce whether Raven and Ben had succeeded.
“Maybe,” Raven said.
Telling Rupe about the mountain talking to her would take away any advantage the voice provided. Plus, Rupe might think she was crazy and boot her from the contest. She wasn’t sure she believed it was the mountain talking to her anyway, but whoever it was, they hadn’t led her astray yet. Even if it was her own imagination talking to her, which she doubted, it seemed to know more about the game than she did.
“Yes, these are speaking stones.” Rupe raised them in the air.
The crowd cheered, and some jumped up and down or raised glasses of ale. Any reason to celebrate, she guessed.
Rupe traced the rune on one of the stones, then tapped it three times. He held a stone out to Raven. “Come closer and listen.”
Raven stepped near and tilted her head. Rupe held the stone to her ear.
She closed her eyes and waited, the sound of her breath filling her ears. In a matter of moments, the rush of chatter replaced her voice, and she almost jerked away from the shock.
She heard it then. Talk about husbands and wash and fresh bread. Pegasusi and beer. Children and elders and whispers about dragons. Hundreds of voices spilling one over another into a jumble of sound and laughter and tears. She moved back.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Speaking stones gather and store anything they hear. They hold on to all conversations around them, collecting conversations, prayers, whatever is near.”
“Why didn’t they talk when we found them?” Ben asked. “I
didn’t hear a word.”
“You need a little magic to release the words, but they are there. Waiting.” He smiled.
The speaking stones were incredible. What stories they could tell. She wondered if they had a limit to how many conversations they could hold, but she wasn’t going to ask Rupe. She’d find out later, when the game was over.
Raven scanned the crowd. Would any of the other contestants find stones? The contest couldn’t be over so quickly, but dusk approached and no one else had returned.
Raven looked to Ben. “The stones are amazing.”
He nodded and held out his hand. “May I listen?”
Rupe set one of the heavy black stones into Ben’s palm. “Listen to the heart of the city. Those who come to the well tell all the tales.”
Ben closed his eyes then smiled. “I can hear every voice, even though each overlaps with others. It’s like I’m listening to a thousand conversations at once. Distinct, yet simultaneous.”
“Yes, the stones have an incredible ability.”
Ben handed the stone back to Rupe. “Thank you. I doubt I’ll ever get the chance to hear a speaking stone again, but I’ll never forget the sound.”
“You’re welcome.” Rupe slipped the stones into a deep pocket then patted it. “They’ll be safe now.”
“Safe from what?” Raven pushed her hair back. She could use that missed drink of water now. The walk back to the amphitheater had felt like twice as far as they’d walked earlier.
“These speaking stones were in a strong location and they hold a lot of information and power—though there are many more stones out there, I doubt there are others as strong nearby.” Rupe put his hands on his hips.
The crowd had busied themselves with drinking and entertaining each other as they waited for any other contestants to arrive.
“So we passed the first contest?” Raven asked.
Rupe nodded but didn’t look at them. “You’ve both made it to the next round of the game. Congratulations.”
Raven took a sip of her water and pushed her mostly empty plate away. By the time the sun set below the mountain, two of the other contestants had returned with stones. The female troll had come back first, carrying a shiny white stone that proved to be a speaking stone, too. She’d found it in the fountain by the dollmaker’s store. They’d all started to feast, at Rupe’s insistence, when the dwarf returned. The last sunrays were parrying over the mountain when Rupe took his stone, a deep gray with a golden rune, and placed it in the bag with the rest of the stones.
The dwarf said he found his stone in a pegasus stable, near a colt that had recently been born. The dwarf joined the group to eat, in a much better mood than he had been earlier in the day.
Raven had eaten in silence, knowing that the man in black wasn’t back and that meant he had lost. Taking the time to realize that meant he was going to now be in Rupe’s magical servitude was affecting her more than she’d expected. She hadn’t thought the events through to the conclusion she knew was predetermined.
She folded her fingers together and waited. Ben was finishing his roast fowl and the others seemed to be having a drinking contest. Maybe Ben had been right to want to go home before finding the stones. What would happen if the next task was impossible?
The candlelight cast everyone in a warm and cozy glow. Rupe’s servants had brought out a table and benches onto the field, then set up candlelight and lamps to light the area. Two orcs stood guard and musicians played quietly. The servants moved around the table with food and drink, filling empty cups and presenting dish after dish of succulent meat and vegetables.
Everyone ate and chattered like they were all old friends. Except they weren’t. Raven wiped her mouth with her napkin then placed it on the table. This was a game of life or death, when it came down to it.
Hag help her, she had to win.
She placed her hand on Ben’s arm. “Can we go back to the inn now? I don’t want to be here when he gets back.” She didn’t want to see the man in black’s face when Rupe told him his game was over and he had to submit to the fire.
“I’m almost done.”
“I’m tired.” She yawned.
Rupe spoke up. “Have no fear, my dear fairy. Soon, you will be able to go to sleep, and tomorrow morning, we shall meet in the bar at the inn where I will reveal the next part of the game. I won’t hold you here long tonight, as I know you all need to be fresh tomorrow. It’s a tougher riddle tomorrow.”
“Hag’s blood.” The troll raised her cup.
“Hag’s blood,” the group replied in unison.
“Hag’s blood,” Raven said, holding her cup of water up.
She’d learned long before that she didn’t do well with ale. More than one glass, and she was pretty much unavailable for conversation.
Ben finished eating, and they’d just stood to make their exit pardons, when the last contestant stepped into the candlelight.
“Ah, Avnor, I see you have returned.” Rupe stood. His orcs moved into position around him.
The group grew quiet, even the servants stopped clearing plates. The music stopped, and the musicians sat in pause.
“Alas, without the stone.” Still dressed in black from head to foot, Avnor stepped farther into the light. His face was pale with exhaustion.
“You know what this means,” Rupe said.
Avnor pointed to the troll. “You need to know that she prevented my success. I found the white stone before her and she tricked me out of it.”
The troll stood, knocking her plate off the table. “Lies!”
“Rules are rules.” Rupe wiped his hands on his napkin then dropped it onto the table. “You weren’t back before dark, and you don’t have a stone.”
“She cheats.”
“I don’t suffer cheaters or liars in my games.” Rupe’s voice raised. “Do you have proof of this allegation?”
Avnor shook his head. “I do not.”
Rupe raised his arms above his head and began clapping his hands. By the fifth clap, Raven grew dizzy and fell.
“Are you okay?” Ben helped her up from the ground.
Raven nodded. “What happened?” The grassy field had been replaced by porous stone and the candlelight was red.
“I’ve brought you all to Firecap Lake.” Rupe gestured toward the molten rock.
“Mount Evermore?” the troll asked. “How?”
“Don’t underestimate my magic.” Rupe paced. “We’re here to appease the fire, as the loser of the first game will do. A sacrifice.”
Realization slammed into Raven. Was Rupe going to throw Avnor into the fire? What kind of madness had she gotten herself into? She grabbed Ben’s arm and he hugged her to him.
“This is crazy,” he said.
Orc guards pushed Avnor forward, his hands and feet bound in heavy chains and his mouth gagged. Rupe stepped closer to him.
“Avnor, my old friend. I promise I will remember you well.”
Rupe held up a crystal and began speaking words that sounded like nonsense.
Avnor writhed but said nothing, though the orcs pulled the gag from his lips.
The fire in the lake flamed higher as Rupe chanted, then the whole mountain began to quake. Bits of rock loosened and skittered down the slope.
In a flash, Avnor changed into a large dragon with silver eyes and talons. He tried to fly, his heavy wings straining against the chains, but the orcs held tight and Rupe continued his chanting, the crystal glowing yellow, then orange, then red.
Had Rupe changed him into a dragon, or was he a dragon already?
Molten fire shot from the lake and hit the crystal, which shattered the stone into thousands of shards that rained down around Avnor like iridescent hail. Raven yanked her head back to see a large, green cloud emerge from the dragon’s chest.
Rupe pointed to the lake of fire and the green cloud spun like a windswirl and plunged into the fire with a guttural scream that shook Raven to the core. The dragon’s silver eyes went dim an
d Raven trembled in Ben’s arms.
“I can’t believe that Avnor was a dragon. It never occurred to me that a dragon would compete.” Raven brushed her hair firmly, holding the tangled bits tight as she worked on it. Going to bed with her hair wet after a bath hadn’t been her best idea, but she’d been so tired she barely felt like bathing.
“Or maybe Rupe changed him into a dragon,” Ben said.
“I don’t think so. Why would he change him into a strong creature then take his soul and sacrifice it to the Fire Lake? That makes no sense.”
Rushing around Cliffhold for hours had been tiring. Whoever had carved out a spot for the town had not taken into account the steepness of the area near the fields where the amphitheater had been built. Thank the hag they were meeting Rupe in the bar today.
Ben pulled on his shirt. “It doesn’t really matter what happened. We signed a strongly worded contract about what would happen if we lost. I tried to tell you it was crazy. Now there’s a soulless dragon wandering around the world, presumably at Rupe’s command. That can’t be a good thing.”
“Yeah. Avnor was so standoffish. And Rupe called him ‘old friend’. I can’t help but think there’s something more to his story.”
Ben shrugged. “He wanted to win. I’m not sure there was another motive for him being in Cliffhold. Dragons like chests of gold as much as the rest of us.”
She brushed harder. “I know. But don’t you find it strange that a dragon would even find out about the game, much less participate? I’ve never seen one in its shifted form either. That seems vulnerable.” She picked hair out of the brush and tossed it on the dressing table to dispose of later. “And what will the other dragons do now that he’s dead—or undead, as it were?”
“Do you think the dragons will use Avnor’s enslavement as a reason to attack?” Ben sighed. “That’s all we need. To be part of the provocation that started the Great War.”
“I’m pretty good at failures, so I’d say that sounds like something I’d do. Start the war that burns Oriste to the ground.”
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