Stonemaster

by C. E. Murphy

  , Rasim supposed, because of one bad man that they were there.

  Without Roscord, Isidri might have stayed Guildmaster until she died of old age, instead of burning up so much magic that she nearly died, and now felt she had to step down. If that was funny, it was the dark humor of a man who'd nearly drowned.

  "But like most messes, there's some good come of this. When I was a girl—"

  Rasim and every other youth in the guild perked up, hoping Isidri would be as specific about that as she'd been about her number of years as Guild-master. Everyone said she was a hundred years old, maybe more. She looked, Rasim thought, like she was three hundred, especially now that she was frailer and the network of wrinkles on her brown face had collapsed inward more, deepening.

  The ancient Guildmaster paused like she'd heard the collective in-drawn breath of hope, and gave the entire gathering one scathing look. "That's none of your business."

  Another laugh burst through the crowd, this one much stronger.

  Pleased, Isidri continued. "This may surprise you, but when I was a girl the Stonemasters held sway at the palace. When my elders were young, it was the Skymasters. Then, the guilds worked together more closely, in and out of the palace all the time, teaching the royal children to their particular strengths, and the ascendant guild supporting the monarch's strongest magics.

  That changed with Queen Naisa."

  Rasim's eyebrows lifted. Naisa had been the current king's great-grandmother. She'd ruled almost ninety years earlier. Isidri really wasn't far off a hundred years old, if she remembered the monarchs before Naisa.

  "Naisa was a nice girl," Isidri said in the same tone she used to say Desimi was a simpleton or Rasim a trouble-finder. "But she was only a girl when she became queen, and not much more than that when she died. She was gifted in sunmastery, and had she lived longer, perhaps things might not have been what they are.

  But her son was born with sunwitchery ascendant, too, and he was only nine years old when Naisa died. By the time his children

  were born, it had become tradition: Sunmasters taught at the palace."

  Glancing around, it was clear to Rasim that nobody younger than Captain Asindo had much knowledge of this. Even Asindo looked as though he knew it was true, but didn't quite believe it in his heart. To Rasim, it was like suggesting the sky had turned red and the earth as blue as the sea. The Sunmasters had always held sway in the palace. They had always been diplomats, guiding the royal family in delicate matters at home and overseas.

  Another chuckle ran through the crowd. This time Isidri—and everybody else—looked at Rasim, who slowly realized he'd voiced the thought aloud. Heat rushed his cheeks, but Isidri's expression was unusually fond. "You're right, Rasim. The Sunmasters have always been Ilyara's diplomats. It's their magic," she said idly, as if no one had considered it before, and maybe they hadn't. "Sun witchery is so dangerous that those who master it have to be extremely steady of temper. It's a trait that stands diplomats well, too. And that made it all the easier for their magic and faith to gain ground in the palace."

  "Who started it? Who let Queen Naisa be that short-sighted? What Sunmasters took advant—"

  Isidri shook her head, cutting off the barrage of questions. "It doesn't matter, Rasim. The sky had gone dark and cold, and we needed the sun witchery. By the time that need faded, tradition had begun. There's almost no one left who remembers, and there's no one left to blame." Her ancient gaze softened. "There's a lesson for you to learn, lad. Blame almost never matters, in the end. Neither does credit, when you get down to it. You accomplish so much more if you don’t care who gets the credit.”

  Desimi shifted uncomfortably next to Rasim. Rasim ducked his head, trying not to look at the other boy, and Kisia snorted loudly at both of them. Isidri's soft expression broadened into a smile as she turned away from the three of them to address the larger crowd again. "The point is that in the past few weeks things have changed again, and we have an opportunity. Rasim al Ilialio is studying with the Sunmasters—"

  Rasim bit his tongue on saying he wasn't so sure he wanted to anymore, if the Sunmasters were—were—he didn't even have words for them. They weren't traitors , exactly, but it seemed like they'd taken everything to their advantage, and not to the betterment of Ilyara or its people. Of course, if he'd been raised a Sunmaster he might have thought differently, but he hadn't, and from where he was sitting—

  —from there, his Guildmaster had just told him not to waste time laying blame. Rasim gnawed his lower lip and tried to pay attention again. "—which means," Isidri was saying, "that for the first time in generations, the guilds are making a move toward

  working together as a whole unit instead of as four individual groups. Working individually has been fine," she acknowledged,

  "but the royal family is weaker now than it has been for many years, and smaller, too, which is saying something." A laugh whispered through the gathering: Ilyara's royal family was historically known to be a small one, rarely having more than two children in a generation. "If one guild's predominance within the palace is part of that, we need to change it. Not for the good of the Seamasters, or the Sunmasters, or any single guild," she said firmly, "but for Ilyara itself. For our home, and for our place in the world."

  Approval roared up from the gathered Seamasters' Guild, startling Rasim so badly he flinched. The group on stage didn't roar, but they all looked quietly satisfied. Isidri had clearly hand-picked them to attend her last act as Guildmaster. Rasim wondered how many others didn't know what she was saying here, and how much resistance her ideas would meet.

  " To that end ," Isidri called over the fading cheers, quieting them further, "to that end, the journeymen on this stage with me will all be studying with other guilds. This is my final wish as the Seamasters' Guildmaster. We may not be able to practice each other's witchery, but we can still learn what goes on beyond guildhall doors, and build on friendships that have gone neglected for decades."

  Another cheer rose up, though Rasim thought the sea witches would cheer if Isidri sneezed, just then. From her expression, so did she, but she put a hand over her heart anyway, appreciating their enthusiasm. Then she brought the noise down, patting the air with her palms to calm the cries. "A more blended guild system is my wish as Guildmaster. I also have one last thing personal thing I would like to do before stepping down. Kisia al Ilialio?"

  Kisia stiffened like someone had thrown cold water on her, and jolted the few steps to Isidri's side. "Guildmaster?"

  Isidri bestowed a positively benevolent smile on Kisia. Rasim hadn't even known the Guildmaster could do that. "Kisia al Ilialio is another remarkable case, one who casts clear water over old, muddied ideas. Kisia is the only witch I've ever known who has chosen to leave the life she was born to and join a guild, or been allowed to. She did this at age fourteen, and has proven beyond a doubt that witchery can be learned even by those who aren't brought into the guilds in young childhood. She has studied very hard in her time with the Seamasters, and it is my delight to entirely ignore tradition and raise her up to journeyman status now. Journeyman, you are assigned to the Waifia

  . Congratulations."

  Kisia went as pale and then as red as her brown skin could, her mouth hanging open with surprise. Rasim shouted with pride and punched the air, then grabbed the person next to him for an

  exuberant hug before realizing it was Desimi. The bigger boy only grinned, though, and smacked Rasim's shoulder when the hug broke apart. "She deserves it, Sunburn. She's more of a witch than you'll ever be."

  That was true, but Rasim's pleasure was greater than any sting of regret could be. He hit Desimi's shoulder in return, for the first time unafraid that it would lead to a fight, and spun to hug Hassin, too. The first mate pounded Rasim on the back, shouting cheerfully, and beyond the stage Rasim saw that any envy or ill will was swept away by the Waifia 's crew's response to the news. Kisia was holding Isidri's hands, both of them smiling through tears. Tears! Rasim nev
er imagined Isidri could cry! The venerable Guildmaster turned Kisia to face the crowd, lifting their joined hands in triumph.

  Through the arch of their lifted hands, Rasim caught glimpse of a green-clad Seamaster working his way through the crowd, a hood pulled up to conceal his features. Two larger men in dun-colored cloaks and a smaller woman in the uniform of the King's Guard followed in his wake, close enough to seem protective.

  Despite his excitement, Rasim's stomach went to knots. Last time the city guard had come, it had been to disband the Seamasters.

  That had led directly to the events that had nearly killed both Isidri and the king. Rasim couldn't think of anyone in the guild who would have called the guards for a Guildmaster changeover, but many had clearly known of Isidri's other plans. Someone might have thought she was going too far, inciting revolution, and gone to the guards for help in stopping her. Rasim barely heard Isidri as she lowered Kisia's hand and sent the girl back into the group on stage. Kisia stumbled happily, and it was Desimi who caught her and hugged her first, rumbling congratulations in her ear.

  She beamed at him, then turned to Rasim with such joy that he put aside his worries just long enough to squeeze her tight.

  "You deserve it, Kees. You're already a better witch than I am.

  Congratulations."

  "I'm not," Kisia said with mild determination, but her smile stayed in place and she grunted as she returned Rasim's hug. "I didn't know she was going to do that!"

  "I don't know if anybody besides Asindo knew it!"

  "—my final act as Guildmaster to the Sea Guild. All that's left,"

  Isidri was saying as she began to unwind the blue ribbon of office from her hair, "is to announce Asindo as my official successor, and go get a cup of sakka . "

  "Ah, no, Guildmaster." Captain Asindo smiled, stopping Isidri from loosening the ribbon. "If you don't mind, I'll take the rank, and my first act as Guildmaster will be to insist that my predecessor retain her mark of office. Not even I remember you

  without that braid in your hair, Isi. Don't confuse me at this late stage."

  Isidri, who was turning out to have quite the soft side after all, held still for a moment, then smiled and kissed Asindo's cheek. "Thank you, Asi. May Siliaria smile on your guild."

  As she spoke, the hooded Seamaster broke through the crowd and regained Rasim's attention. All of the oldest, highest ranking Seamasters were already on the stage, and he couldn't think of anyone younger who might want to challenge Isidri or Asindo so openly, on such an important day. If Rasim only knew who the hooded master was, what he wanted, then maybe he could distract from his presence—

  The man threw back his hood and revealed himself as King Taishm.

  Chapter Three

  A shock of silence swept out as those nearest to him recognized the king. Then, as quickly as the silence rolled in, everyone knelt, like a wave rolling back through the gathering. It rolled forward, too, most people on the stage kneeling as swiftly as the crowd did. Rasim was too surprised to kneel, and Kisia, who was terrible at showing deference, didn't either. Since they didn't, neither did Desimi, so they made a trio of guards just like Taishm had, except they flanked Isidri, the only other person in the courtyard who hadn't knelt.

  Taishm's gaze flashed to Rasim and his com-panions. Rasim thought he saw amusement in the king's eyes, but his voice was nothing but solemn. "Rasim. Kisia. Desimi. I see congratulations are in order, Journeyman Kisia, and I'm pleased that you wear the mark of the king's guard, Desimi."

  Kisia flushed with pride again. Desimi clutched the necklace's heavy pendant in one hand and tried not to look overwhelmed.

  Taishm waited another moment, then, dryly, said, "Kneeling might be appropriate."

  "Oh!" Rasim wasn't sure which of them had blurted the sound, but they all hastily knelt. That time Rasim was sure he saw humor in Taishm's expression, but he still kept it from his voice as he turned his attention to Isidri.

  "Guildmaster."

  "That would be Asindo." Isidri's tone was bright, as if masking something, and after a moment she bowed. "Your Majesty."

  "Yes," Taishm agreed. "I'll want to speak to that Guildmaster as well. I suppose, Seamaster Isidri, that in deference to your age I won't ask you to kneel. Siliaria forbid you shouldn't be able to get up again."

  A tittering gasp ran through the crowd. Isidri's mouth went sour.

  "You've arrived at my hall in the garb of my guild, Taishm. Here, I outrank you. You might have come at any time in the past weeks," she said much more softly, so the words might reach the king alone. "Why wait until today?"

  "So I could gauge the response of those who knew nothing of your plans," Taishm said just as softly.

  Rasim realized he was holding his breath so he could hear the conversation. Beside him, Kisia hiccuped a little gasp of air, too, obviously doing the same thing. They caught each other's eyes and for a sudden, desperate moment, they had to fight off body-wracking laughter. It lasted until Desimi caught Rasim in the ribs with a sharp elbow and glared, his own gaze darting to the sparring Guildmaster and king. He clearly didn't want to miss anything either. Tears of laughter burned Rasim's eyes and he bit the insides of his cheeks, trying to calm down. He didn't even know what was going on, but it was definitely important, and they were going to ruin it all by giggling.

  Neither Taishm nor Isidri paid any attention to them, though Rasim was sure they were both aware of the hysterical journeymen.

  Isidri, still almost inaudible, said, "And?"

  "And I think a monarch less lenient than I would accuse you of instigating rebellion in Ilyara."

  All of Rasim's humor vanished in an instant. Of all the people to accuse of treason, Guildmaster Isidri, who had nearly died for Ilyara and for Taishm—he didn't know his head had snapped up or that he was glaring outrage at the king until Taishm's attention slid from Isidri to the three journeymen again. "I said a monarch less lenient than I. Call off your sharks, Rasim al Ilialio, lest we have words."

  Bristling, not understanding, Rasim looked around. On his left, Desimi's jaw was set and his breath held, making his big shoulders and chest look even broader. On his right, Kisia's lip was curled and her fingers were braced against the stage, like she would use it to launch herself at the king. Rasim wasn't the only one prepared to fight for Isidri.

  Not the only one by far. Tension filled every line of Hassin's body, too. In fact, of the sea witches on stage, only Captain Asindo—Guildmaster Asindo—was not prepared to fight. Everyone else who had heard any of the conversation was tense, angry, and ready to defend Isidri. The weight of gathering sea witchery was massive, almost as heavy as Rasim had ever felt it. Taishm was king, and gifted in all manners of magic, but Rasim doubted he could stand against the full onslaught of the Seamasters' Guild.

  Rasim, very carefully, exhaled his anger away and lifted a hand to spread his fingers wide, signaling to the gathered masters

  that they should calm themselves. The weight of magic in the air didn't change. Concern twisted Rasim's belly and made sweat stand out on his skin. They had to listen, even if his command was silent. Call off your sharks, Taishm had said, and call them off Rasim would. He stood, drawing everyone's attention, and met every belligerent gaze with his own determined calm.

  One by one, face by face and magic by magic, the Seamasters let their power go. The aura of threat lessened, then faded, and finally, as Rasim knelt again, disappeared entirely. Kisia and Desimi were the very last to relinquish their witchery, like they were protecting Rasim as much as Isidri.

  Taishm al Ilyara, king of the city-state, pursed his lips and studied Rasim. Rasim shivered, unable to read anything in the king's expression, but feeling like he was being judged, or maybe more than judged. Like he was something new and potentially dangerous, and that the king was deciding whether he should be allowed to live.

  For the moment, it appeared he passed muster. Taishm's attention snapped away from him as if it had never been there, returning to Isi
dri. "You certainly have the hearts of your people," he said, soft once more, and then so quietly Rasim thought it wasn't meant to be heard at all, "Would that I had such loyalty." More clearly

  —much more clearly, permitting the assembly at large to hear him—

  he said, "The Great Fire made hundreds of orphans, swelling the guild ranks to greater numbers than have ever been known in Ilyara's history. I have watched Guildmaster Isidri these past weeks as she has worked to begin building a legacy unlike any other, and I see now that she has the support of her guild and,"

  he nodded to the array of masters represented on the stage, "at least some backing within the other guilds."

  A rumble of agreement went up, no one quite willing to break into cheers and interrupt the king's speech. Taishm smiled faintly and climbed the steps to the stage so he could face the larger audience. "I would take Guildmaster Isidri's vision one step farther. It is no secret that the royal family is smaller and weaker in magic than it once was—"

  That got a response whether Taishm intended it to or not. It was one thing for the city to gossip about its weakening monarchs. It was something else to have the king himself admit it. The whispers and murmurs reached a peak and faded quickly as Taishm continued to speak over them, not dwelling on the topic and therefore not allowing the crowd to. "—nor that my cousin's decision to marry a Northerner was unpopular. But he was not wrong in that the al Ilyara needs new blood.

  "It's commonly believed that only those of al Ilyara blood can master all four forms of witchery. But then, it was common knowledge that only young children could learn witchery at all, and Kisia al Ilialio has proven that wrong. Perhaps we all have

  the talent for more than one kind of magic. I would like to find out. I propose a new guild, called the King's Guild, which will take apprentices and young journeymen from each of the others, and ask them to study all forms of witchery."

  Excitement burst in Rasim's chest. Kisia bumped her shoulder against his, her expression bright and enthusiastic. The youngest apprentices in the crowd looked equally thrilled, their high young voices suddenly rising in squeals. Several journeymen looked sour, perhaps fearing themselves too old to take part in Taishm's new guild, and many masters were clearly uncomfortable.