Siegestone: Book 1 of the Gemstones and Giants Trilogy

by E. S. Maya

  It took Spanky a moment to sputter the words, “Point to the first-year! Two—two!”

  The crowd was no longer silent.

  Noth raised his chin, looking down his nose at Safi. His face flushed red to match the bruise on his neck. She took a short step backwards, for there was a feline look to his eyes. She reckoned it was the first time she had seen him truly angry.

  The wind swept through the crowd and the sword ring. She could feel the bulk of her dusty hair, whipping against her cheeks. She wondered how Noth saw her now, if her hair resembled the mane of a lion—or a gryphon. If she was all he imagined the Abed to be, wearing the face of a people who, one decade ago, had cut his father down in the lands of the Southern Kingdoms.

  Noth made no such remarks. Their game had gone too far, Safi knew, and with the score tied, there was no room left for mistakes. No room left for petty taunts and provocations.

  The recruit foreman turned an eye to Spanky and gave a slight nod, signaling for the final round to begin.

  61

  Dark She Was, and Golden-Eyed

  “He had her,” Hannah shrieked with such ferocity that she nearly fell from her seat. She caught herself by the knees, fingers squeezed into fists, ruining the silky fabric of her expensive red dress.

  Despite her shortness of breath, Raven forced a smile. “You should have never moved against me.” It was something Crow would have said, but the words felt hollow on her lips.

  For Blondie had evened the score, but to what end? She still faced Noth in the sword ring. After four overwhelming rounds, Raven had little hope left in the odds of her friend’s victory.

  Hannah elbowed Raven’s shoulder as she turned in her seat to face her. Even sitting down, the head girl towered over the first-year. “Save the sweet talk till after the fight, Anderan. Words don’t matter now, only swords.”

  Raven scowled at the girl, but she held her tongue. Though she hated to admit it, the Berridian hick was right. The plan had long been out of her hands, and everything came down to Safi. Safi, who looked so small in the sword ring, a pitiful yellow flower amidst all that blue and orange. Furthering Raven’s concerns, the girl had forgotten all proper fighting form, standing shoulder-width apart with her sword in both hands.

  Raven choked back a sob as she realized her greatest mistake. That she had placed too much trust in someone other than herself. She could almost hear her sister’s cackling laughter. When it came to the Serren Feathers, Crow had always handled the most important parts of a plan—personally.

  Raven now understood why. Any other scheme and she could have adapted to the new circumstances. The helplessness made her fingers itch. She was trapped, and without any bars to beat against, she hadn’t a way to relieve the tension inside her. Here was a cage of the mind. For a girl who yearned for freedom, there was no greater imprisonment.

  She tucked her fingers beneath her armpits and fought the urge to cry. Before being sent to Camp Cronus, she had spent years trying to convince herself her sister’s ways were wrong. But perhaps Crow was right after all.

  Crow was also not one to give up. What sort of stunts and theatrics would her older sister have pulled, had she been seated beside Hannah instead of her? Raven furrowed her black eyebrows, thinking. She didn’t have long.

  Down in the sword ring, Spanky called for the final round to begin.

  The boys began crowding the boundary rope. The ones at the rear stood on their toes, eager to witness the recruit foreman’s imminent victory. In the sword ring, Noth’s stance was firm—compact. His feet dragged through the dust towards Safiyas. His bright yellow gaze was fixed, unflinching. He made no sudden movements.

  Raven watched as Safi stepped backwards away from the fifth-year, clumsily wielding her sword. The sight was nearly unbearable. Her bloodied left arm was trembling, and her dust-caked bangs kept slipping over her eyes. As for her swordsmanship, it was as if she remembered not a minute of the countless hours Raven had spent training her.

  Noth lunged forward, snapping his wooden sword directly at Safi’s head. The crowd gasped in unison, and several nearby girls covered their eyes and mouths.

  But Safi dropped into a crouch, bottom inches from touching the ground. Raven watched breathlessly as Noth cut air. Then Safi was shooting sideways, like a flag swept up by the wind. Moving with remarkable speed, she leapt at the recruit foreman’s side and launched a dazzling counter-attack.

  Noth snapped his weapon back into the starting position. He caught the winterwood with his guard and stretched out his mighty arm. The sword went flying from Safi’s hands. She scrambled after it, to pluck her weapon off the ground and put distance between herself and the recruit foreman.

  Raven’s fingers went perfectly still. Her heart was racing. For the first time in her life, she doubted her own green eyes. They hadn’t misled her before, but there, down in the sword ring, for the briefest of moments, she had spotted a weakness in Noth’s defense.

  She felt ashamed for not having noticed it sooner.

  A way for Blondie to win.

  She glanced sideways at Hannah, making certain the fifth-year’s attention was wholly inside the sword ring. Then she sprang to her feet, curling her toes over the edge of the wall for balance. Between the Siege Titan’s legs, not a recruit stood taller.

  Raven raised her arm and pulled a breath, and began to scream Safi’s name.

  “Safi…” whispered the autumn wind, cooling the sweat on her face, and tousling her dusty blonde hair.

  She tightened her grip around Titansbane, ignoring the call. For the recruit foreman was inching towards her, and this wasn’t the time for distractions. Having spent months in Camp Cronus, she was all too familiar with the sorts of tricks fear could play on one’s mind.

  Noth strode forward with a heavy downward blow. Safi threw herself out of the way, then, too pained and exhausted to fight, ran limping to the opposite end of the sword ring.

  Rather than charge in pursuit, Noth returned his sword to the ready position. He turned towards Safi, leading with his right boot, and renewed his careful approach.

  Breathing hard, Safi looked down at her sword and cringed. She could see the pale winterwood core where the limewood had split apart. She doubted it would survive another solid blow. Not from the recruit foreman.

  Again the wind called her name, and she scrunched her nose. She sure wished whoever was out there would pipe down and be silent.

  Noth was creeping closer. She held her sword to her chest, desperate to protect it as much as her own body. She watched a bead of sweat run down the recruit foreman’s cheek, though he made no effort to wipe it. His focus was intense. He wore the expression of a man capable of great cruelty. She wondered what had driven him to such anger. She couldn’t imagine herself carrying such hatred inside, not if she lived to be a Titan’s age.

  “Why?” Safi found herself asking. Her throat was dry, her voice hoarse.

  “If you’re trying for an opening,” Noth said, boot grinding dust, “you won’t find one. No more schemes, Southerling. No more tricks. This isn’t a game anymore.”

  “It was never a game to me,” Safi choked out. “Living in Camp Cronus is hard enough. So is being a miner. Why must you make things worse for all of us?”

  “Because I don’t want to live in Camp Cronus! I’m buying my way out of this Godforsaken camp. Blackpoint favors the strong, Southerling.” His teeth flashed in a snarl. “The world favors the strong.”

  Safi readied her sword, looking down its length into Noth’s yellow eyes. “I’m strong,” she said, and the words surprised her. For the first time in her life, she believed them to be true.

  Noth turned his cheek and spat on the ground. “You’re a girl!” he said.

  “I’m a miner,” Safi reminded him. “A recruit can’t make it in the Titan mines without getting strong. You said so yourself.”

  Noth paused to consider her answer. The corner of his lips bent into a grin as he backed Safi into the boundary
rope. “If you’re strong, come prove it to me!”

  He swung his sword through the air, a perfect diagonal slash aimed straight for Safi’s heart. She thought to dodge, but a sharp biting pain ran up the length of her back. So she threw up her guard instead, catching Noth’s blow at the crossguard. The impact sent her flying across the sword ring. She landed face-first on the ground.

  Rolling onto her side, she watched as Noth drew back his sword. He returned the blade to its defensive angle and pointed his right boot towards her, advancing slowly. Not a single weak spot.

  Grimacing, she climbed to her feet, Titansbane still in hand. “You’re going to regret it, you know,” she said, wiping blood from her upper lip. “Everything you’ve done.”

  “My only regret,” Noth said, “is being born too late to go to war with your heretic race.”

  Safi tensed her body, preparing to throw herself forward for one final, desperate attack, but paused. It was the voice in the wind again, louder this time. Clearer.

  “Safi!”

  Safi held up her bangs and scanned the crowd, a line of brown trousers, blue shirts, and cheering faces. But it wasn’t any boys’ voice she’d heard. So she stood on her toes and looked over their heads, squinting towards the girls who sat perched on the old stone wall.

  There stood Raven, small as a bug, balanced on her heels atop the wall’s highest seat.

  Beside her sat Hannah, clinging to her legs and shaking her back and forth.

  “Safi!” cried Raven. She was waving one arm in the air, supporting its weight at the elbow.

  Safi smiled. Even now, when hope was all but lost, her friend was cheering her on. She raised her sword arm and returned the gesture.

  “Safi, you idiot!” And that was the last thing Raven said, for Hannah pulled at her legs so violently that the Anderan went tumbling backwards, over the wall and out of sight.

  Taking advantage of the distraction, Noth sent his sword biting towards Safi’s face. She felt her head snap back, a movement of sheer reflex. The tip of his sword swept through her bangs, narrowly missing her forehead.

  Noth backed away, smiling. He fell into the ready position and renewed his slow approach towards her.

  Backing away from the boy, Safi’s eyes went wide. She pictured Raven, standing atop the wall with her arm held high. Suddenly, everything made sense. The defense she’d thought impregnable showed one glaring weakness.

  She slid her right boot forward. She let go of her sword’s hilt with her bloody left hand, held it firmly in the right, and returned to the fighting stance her dear friend had taught her.

  Noth arched an eyebrow at the girl’s renewed confidence. “Accepted your fate, have you?”

  It was Safi’s turn to smile. “I accepted my fate the moment I stepped into Camp Cronus.” She raised her free hand to pointed to her eyes. “Yellow and blue, not so different from a Serk’s. We’re more alike than you think.”

  “We couldn’t be more different,” the recruit foreman said. “When I get out of Blackpoint, I’ll take satisfaction in knowing you’ll still be here, scrubbing the floors and emptying the shithouses.”

  Safi laughed then, a good, hearty Raven cackle. “That’s assuming you’ll win.”

  “Stubborn till the end!” Noth roared, dashing forward with great bounding momentum. “Then let’s decide your fate, here and now!”

  He closed in on Safi with a brilliant downward stroke. Mustering the last of her strength, she threw herself to the side, jumping as Noth’s sword came slamming into the ground. A cloud of dust shot into the air, through which she watched, and waited.

  Safi readied Titansbane for its final strike.

  “Too slow!” Noth cried as he returned his sword to its defensive starting position.

  Safi grinned. Indeed, she was too tired and weak to break through the fifth-year’s guard. That was just where she wanted him. She took sight of Noth’s right arm. To her keen eyes, the boy was all but defenseless.

  She shifted her weight to her toes. She imagined her entire self as a body of calm water. She drew a deep breath, knees bent, hips loose. Relaxed her throbbing chest, sagged her aching shoulders.

  Finally, she poured every ounce of speed into her dark, trembling hands.

  Before Noth could possibly think to react, Safi snapped into motion. She took one step forward and extended her right arm, striking the mighty fifth-year boy sharply across the elbow.

  62

  The Spring Wind Blows

  The wooden shards of Safi’s sword lay scattered across the ground. Only the hilt remained in her hand, and when she stretched her stiff fingers, she felt a pang of sadness, for Titansbane was no more.

  And she thought to lay down with it, but a perfect, crystalline silence had filled the space between Cronus’ legs. The walls of the sword ring had fallen, and the eyes of the world were upon her. So she forced herself to remain on her feet, difficult as it was, enjoying the kiss of the breeze on her neck, the warmth of the sun in her hair. Basking in her quiet victory.

  Dipping her chin to her chest, she turned to the fifth-year named Noth.

  The recruit foreman lowered his sword, averting his yellow eyes. He seemed surprised to find himself clutching his elbow. Behind him, just beyond the boundary rope, Spanky stood open-mouthed and tense, looking ready to break the precious silence, but not daring to speak the words.

  It was Goggles who stepped into the sword ring. Taking a knee, he held up a piece of splintered wood and brought it close to his eyes. “She won,” he said quietly, though his voice sailed through the crowd. “She won!”

  Then it wasn’t only Goggles, but all the boys in attendance, letting loose their voices like a roaring peal of thunder. Safi covered her ears and watched as a hundred swinging work boots tore the boundary rope from its pegs. The crowd knocked Spanky onto his belly the moment he started to speak. Then they were all around her, filling the tiny sword ring. Clapping her across the back and shaking with boisterous laughter.

  And there was Rebecca’s red hair, rising over the heads of the crowd. Safi was surprised to find Stiv beside her, steadying the girl with a hand on her waist. The redhead did not stiffen, nor did she pull away. No, she was staring into the boy’s eyes, putting a hand to the back of his head. Dipping her face towards his and—oh my.

  And there was Jabbar, riding on the shoulders of an older, yellow-eyed recruit, both hands raised in the air. One carried a sliver of broken wood, the other an exquisitely carved Titan statuette.

  And there was the familiar voice on the wind. Only this time it made no mention of Safi’s name. New words had taken her place. They came high-pitched with jubilation, “I’m rich!”

  And there was a pair of yellow eyes, staring through the commotion like the stars of her bedroom window. They no longer showed anger, nor regret, but a sense of restless understanding. And, more importantly, a sense of begrudging respect.

  With a smile, Safi pushed her way through the crowd, shouldering past the rowdy boys with her battered thirteen-year-old body. The voices all around her seemed to find each other at last. Together they started to chant, “Blondie! Blondie! Blondie!”

  No one noticed the blonde-haired girl slipping out the back of the crowd, crossing the dusty field, and turning the rounded corner of Cronus’ left foot.

  Back in Lazar’s Crossing, when she was certain no one had followed her, she dropped to her knees and gasped. She held herself carefully, shaking more from exhilaration than pain, as she realized the significance of what she had just done.

  Safi jumped to her feet and ran, clearing the tops of Titan stones and hollering cries of victory. Laughing like a madwoman, and tasting the dust in her tears, she set her eyes on the Main Camp, a thin brown streak in the distance, and put her strong legs to work.

  “I’m rich!” Raven said, throwing herself from the wall and landing in a stumbling crouch. She swept Matilda aside and leapt for her sack of coins, embracing the bulbous hoard with both arms, and trying her best
not to cry.

  Holding aloft the smaller bundle, the Anderan cackled with glee. “Blondie, oh, Blondie!”

  She paused, however, at the crunching of dust behind her. Turning around, she found Hannah climbing down from the wall’s highest seat. The head girl took her time shaking the dust from her dress. Then she flew into action, gesturing with open hands, nodding left and right.

  Hannah tucked a handful of curls behind her ear and grinned. Two dozen recruits descended the old stone wall, leather soles slapping the ground. The fifth-years, Raven realized, as they convened on their leader like flies to a dung heap.

  Raven clutched Hannah’s purse to her chest, taking a short step backwards. Hannah raised her hand and snapped her fingers, sending a pair of fifth-years, a bespectacled blonde and a cat-eyed brunette, advancing towards her. Raven could feel her legs itching to run, to duck into shadowed alleyways or clamber up to the rooftops. But there were no such places to hide in Camp Cronus.

  “You’ll be returning my purse now,” Hannah told her, gesturing not only to Raven’s hands but to her sack of copper and iron as well. “And there’ll be a thorough investigation to find out where all that money came from.”

  “Investigate this,” Raven said, raising two upturned fingers. “You’re not getting a single coin from me!” She felt her fingers twitch. “We had a deal.”

  Hannah stared at Raven, then burst into rattling laughter. The rest of the fifth-years were quick to join her. Baring her teeth, she glanced over her shoulder and said, “Fetch my damn money.”

  Two dozen footsteps came crunching towards Raven.

  Falling into a panic, Raven glanced towards the sword ring for help. Her heart sunk, for Safi’s blonde head was nowhere to be found. Her hands twitched frantically around the weight of her silver sovereigns. Five years’ worth of freedom, she reminded herself, and decided she’d sooner die than give them up.