by Frank Morin
“Like escaping from your mother.”
“Even blind coal won’t protect you from her for long, but it might make the difference between life and death. More importantly for today, it allows you to tap diorite.”
He extracted from his other jacket pocket a small leather pouch. He pried it open and showed Connor the glittering, black and white crystals. Connor reached for it, but Kilian pulled the bag away.
“Not so fast. Let me explain before you blow yourself up.”
Connor forced himself to wait, although he was eager to learn the secret. He couldn’t wait to show Hamish that he could blow things up as well as Builders could.
“Diorite is absorbed like other primary affinity stones, but you cannot tap it unless you have blind coal equipped first and bound to your bones.”
“You can focus blind coal internally?”
“No. Well, it’s possible but internal-focused blind coal would kill you. Applied internally, blind coal creates enormous friction resistance in every bodily system and would tear you apart. Never attempt it.”
“So how do you bind it to your bones?”
“You have to activate the external slipperiness of it, but then swallow it.”
Connor frowned. “Then you’re using it internally.”
Kilian chuckled. “Actually, you’re not. It’s a fine distinction, but a critically important one. You’re tapping the external power of blind coal, but then ingesting it. It works, or I’d be dead.”
“How did you figure that out?” That was some of the best circular reasoning Connor had ever heard. Kilian must have gotten away with so much as a kid. Actually, Connor couldn’t quite imagine Kilian as a child. When he tried, all he saw in his mind was a half-sized Kilian who looked exactly as he did now.
“I had some creative moments in my youth.”
“So, do other stones have other internal or external applications I don’t know about?”
“Excellent question. Most stones do have both, although some cannot be tapped until you ascend various thresholds. In most cases, the internal and external applications produce opposite results, like we’ve just discussed with blind coal. We’ll need to find time to sit down and discuss the others.”
So much for open and immediate access to all secrets. Connor decided to start counting how many times Kilian said there were things he needed to know, but later.
He wanted to ask more questions, but Kilian said, “On to practice. Tap blind coal again. Then swallow it.”
That was such a weird idea, Connor eagerly attempted it. Blind coal seemed to like him a lot better than limestone, and it activated immediately. He grinned again at the odd sensation of the invisible snake coils wrapping him in their protective embrace.
The problem came when he tried to force that snake in through his skin to bind it to his bones like Kilian wanted him to. It just wouldn’t work. It easily flowed all over, but refused to plunge down through his skin. That was frustrating. With sandstone, the healing power flowed into him without hesitation.
Then he got the brilliant idea to imagine swallowing a live snake whole.
The sensation of that invisible snake slithering down his throat nearly made him gag, and he turned away from Kilian to avoid puking on him. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe shallow, but the rotten-egg stench of that area only turned his stomach even more.
“What’s the matter?” Kilian asked.
Connor waved him back. “I’m okay. It’s just, swallowing snakes was never a particular talent of mine.”
Kilian grimaced. “Connor, I know I told you to visualize as much as possible when you work with stones, but where did you get swallowing snakes?”
He didn’t respond. The snake had reached his stomach, and it seemed happy to take up residence in his innards. The slithery feeling of snakes sliding through his muscles and wrapping his bones with a protective, slippery layer left him feeling queasy.
“You look green,” Kilian chuckled.
“Good thing I didn’t eat more of those snacks you ordered in. Next time I challenge Hamish for the vomit distance record, I plan to tap blind coal. He won’t know what hit him.”
“You throw up on each other?”
“Just a figure of speech.” Actually, they had thrown up on each other once. No, twice. Well, a few times, but always for good reasons. Hadn’t Kilian ever had a best friend?
“You’ve got it bonded internally?” Kilian asked. When Connor nodded he asked, “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Kilian eyed him closely. “Make sure you are. I don’t feel like anyone blowing up so close to me. It’s messy.”
“I don’t plan to die today. When we blow things up, do we have to punch them, or can we blow up things from a distance?”
“Usually I punch things. It may be possible to eject the explosion and focus it at a distant target, but I’ve never tried that,” Kilian admitted.
Connor grinned. Explosive vomit. He’d have to test that with Hamish. Hamish was perhaps the only person he knew who could appreciate a higher form of vomiting.
Kilian shook his head, looking resigned, as if he’d again somehow read Connor’s thoughts, disapproved, but realized there was no way he could prevent Connor from testing out the theory. For a second he looked like maybe he was regretting the decision to share the secret.
But all he said was, “Focus now. When applied internally, blind coal will last a bit longer, but not by much. We don’t have a lot of time, so purge and see if you can establish affinity with diorite.”
Connor purged the last of his basalt and eagerly thrust his hand into the bag of diorite when Kilian extended it to him.
“Only a small portion for the first attempt,” Kilian warned.
Connor focused on the powder and willed it into him. He doubted he’d survive a tiny portion if he got it wrong, so he planned to absorb a good-sized dose. If he was going to die, he planned to make it spectacular.
He didn’t plan on dying, though. A sense of eager anticipation filled him with energy, almost as if he was tapping basalt again. Diorite seemed to understand his purpose with blind coal applied to his skeleton, and it must have approved because it took less than a minute for the connection to solidify.
A tingling rush rippled up his arm and coursed through his body. He gasped and rocked back, his muscles locking in a spasm as diorite raced through him. If he could close his eyes and peer inside of himself, he bet he’d see the diorite like miniature lightning bolts shooting up and down his veins.
“Whoa! I feel it,” he exclaimed. Diorite filled him with a different kind of energy than any other power stone. Basalt made him want to run, granite made him want to curse-punch things, and slate imbued the strength of the mountain.
Diorite wanted to erupt.
It was like a volcano building in his gut, a hot pressure to explode. Even though he wasn’t tapping it, the force built with alarming speed.
Kilian said, “Don’t hold it in too long. It takes time to get used to it, but at first it’ll cause internal damage if you try to hold diorite back.”
That would have been good to know before they started. “What do I do?”
Kilian gestured at the snowy ground underfoot. “Hit something. Will it out through your fist.”
Perfect. Breaking things was his specialty, after all.
The surging need to erupt swelled to an unstoppable wave, as if the diorite heard Kilian and was eager to obey. Riding that inner swell of destruction, Connor whooped and leaped high, landing fist-first and driving his hand through the snow, all the way to the hard stone underneath. He shouted again as he struck and willed the explosive might out through his hand.
The explosion started in the pit of his stomach.
It filled him in a flash and would have ripped him asunder if not for the protective layer of blind coal. Instead it seemed to condense along his skeleton, roll up his bones, and drive out to his hand.
All that happened in the fr
action of a second right before his hand struck the stone. When his knuckles connected, all the concentrated explosive power erupted with a blinding flash. It emptied out of him in an eyeblink and created an inner void that threatened to suck all his insides out through his hand too.
Again the blind coal saved his life, but the diorite explosion drained away his strength, his eager excitement, and all the rest of his emotions.
That left him in a state of absolute calm a stone exploded under his hand and snow flashed to billowing steam around him. The ground shook and geysers of lava spurted from several nearby fissures. Connor stood in the center of the storm, unscathed and unaffected.
He stared at his fist. Remarkably it hadn’t vaporized, but he felt completely drained in every conceivable way.
“Not bad,” Kilian laughed, clapping several times.
Connor’s legs gave out and he plopped onto his backside, right into a muddy puddle. He was too tired to tap soapstone and will the water away. His eyelids drooped and every muscle seemed to want to sleep.
His mind was awake, though, and his thoughts raced. How had Kilian fought those rampagers? Verena had said he moved with unbelievable speed, triggering a rapid series of explosive punches. There had to be more to mastering diorite.
“What happened?” His voice sounded tired and distant.
“You’re not dead,” Kilian laughed.
“But I’m exhausted.”
“It takes some time to understand how to focus the blast properly.”
“Teach me.”
“I think you’ve had enough for today.”
Connor started to protest, but Kilian placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I promise to practice with you again. Hopefully often. We don’t have large quantities of blind coal or diorite, but we have enough, and you need to master this skill before we leave Altkalen. The first couple of times are difficult and you need time to internalize what diorite does to you, or you could still kill yourself.”
“Dying would be bad,” Connor admitted, hating how his tongue slurred the words.
Kilian’s expression turned more serious. “Have you noticed how diorite drained you internally, not just sapped your strength?”
Connor nodded. “I feel numb.”
“Not even a little porphyry addiction-fueled rage?”
“No. It’s gone.” For the first time in a long time, he felt completely free of the porphyry hunger.
“That aspect of diorite bothered me at first, but in your case, it’s a boon. Diorite pulls it all away, consumes all of your emotion like a cleansing fire. Blind coal keeps you alive, but it can’t prevent all of the side-effects. You’ll enjoy an exceptionally calm state for at least several hours, and I suspect it’ll take days for porphyry to drive you to distraction again.”
“This is amazing,” Connor laughed softly, but his joy felt weak. He’d take it.
Kilian hauled Connor to his feet, lifted them on a pillar of snow, and slid across the plain, back toward Altkalen. Connor was grateful he didn’t insist they run. Connor could barely stand, although as they accelerated across the plain, the cool breeze helped wake him up a little. He swore to master diorite in the next practice session.
Then he’d figure out how to vomit explosions.
Let Hamish try matching that.
32
Temporary Greatness
Shona gratefully climbed off her earthen seat, stretched, and stomped around to get blood flowing through her chilled limbs again. As comfortable as the ride might be, it was still an unfamiliar position, and they’d traveled hard for the past two days up the length of Obrion. The brief rest stops for food and sleep hadn’t lasted nearly long enough, and she felt cold, dirty, tired, and grumpy.
Harley lacked a marble affinity, so she hadn’t been able to shelter them as effectively from the cold. She did somehow slide them across the landscape through a continual calm, despite the speed of their passage. If Shona had been forced to suffer an icy wind too, she might have frozen solid. Harley seemed immune to the cold, but Shona had purchased additional winter clothing at their first stop.
She still felt a sense of homecoming as she stared down at the distant Carraig from the flank of Mount Murdo. The Carraig had served as one of only two places she considered home, and as she looked down upon it, she wished suddenly that she could return to the simpler life of a student. The gealls and intrigue and stress of classes and position in the Tir-raon had seemed so all-consuming at the time. Now she thought back to those days with nostalgic longing. Death didn’t stalk the land then like it did now.
Harley was not a chatty companion, but had ridden with her face set and determined. Shona had yearned to ask many questions, but had not dared start the conversation, not after the casual beating the queen had delivered the last time she spoke out of turn. Maybe Harley needed some alone time to organize her thoughts after her long sleep. Shona forced herself to wait until Harley explained what the queen had meant when she said Harley would train her.
So she was surprised when Harley asked, “That pitiful hamlet is how they’ve rebuilt Stornoway?”
No one had ever described the Carraig as pitiful before. It might not be as expansive as Donleavy or Crann, but the many lofty palaces of the inner city impressed even high lords and ladies when they visited. At the moment it looked far less majestic than normal, with so many palaces reduced to rubble and others clearly undergoing renovations.
A blanket of snow covered everything, softening the marks of damage from the elfonnel attack. The eastern plain had been rolled back, revealing the underground ruin of the ancient city. That must be part of Stornoway, although Shona had never heard the name before. She wondered how such an important truth could be so thoroughly concealed.
She felt a need to defend the Carraig. “It doesn’t usually look so rough. It’s the school of the Petralists.”
Harley grunted with another frown. “Dogs fighting over the scraps discarded by their betters. What is your affinity, girl?”
She started to say Boulder but remembered just in time and declared proudly, “I’m a Solas.”
Harley barked a humorless laugh. “And what are other affinities called?”
Shona quickly ran down the list of Petralist powers then asked, “Have the names changed since your day?”
“We spent little time making up titles to celebrate mediocrity.”
The woman’s determined disdain was so irritating, Shona snapped, “We may not enjoy as many powerful Petralists as you did in the past, but we’re doing the best we can. We’ve had to rebuild a nation that you broke and left desolate.”
Instead of splattering her into oblivion, Harley chuckled. “Finally, a spark of courage. I was starting to wonder what my lady queen saw in you. Perhaps there is hope.”
Shona understood goading and testing, although she wasn’t usually the one on the receiving end. So she stood a bit taller and reminded herself she was a high lady. She did not need to cower before this newcomer.
She gestured toward the ruin on the eastern plain. “What was Stornoway like?”
Harley’s expression softened and her tone turned wistful. “It was the crown of this backward land. When we arrived, Obrion was little more than tribes of ignorant peasants scratching out a basic living. We brought glory to this land, united the kingdoms, and launched the Age of Discovery. It was a glorious time, and Stornoway was the center of all learning and all power. Those were remarkable days.”
Shona wanted to ask about where they’d come from, what land had birthed such mighty Petralists? What was that nation like? Why had Dreokt and Harley come if it was so wonderful?
But Harley frowned down at the Carraig. “Now this poor excuse for a city perches on the bones of our ruin. If you had seen Stornoway, seen what real Petralists could do, you would understand my disdain.”
“So much has been lost since the Tallan Wars.”
Harley barked another laugh, looking incredulous. “Tallan Wars? That’s what th
ey call the insurrection now?”
When Shona nodded, Harley’s expression darkened. “More has been lost than you know. Our city shattered, our nation broken apart, all of my family and friends killed or turned traitor. Then my lady queen herself fell into the great sleep.”
She gestured at the Carraig again with one clenched fist. “I was the senior Petralist after that. I could have taken the reins, could have taken the war to its uttermost end, but what was winning without true victory? No, I too chose to embrace the long sleep, awaiting the day that my lady queen would again rise to power so that I could serve her and help restore the glory of her rule.”
Shona hadn’t expected to feel impressed by Harley, but she doubted she would ever choose centuries-long hibernation for the distant chance that perhaps one day her liege would again arise. No, she would have taken power and orchestrated her own victory. She was a leader. Harley was a follower. Hopefully she was also a teacher.
Harley swung back onto her earthen seat and her determined expression returned. “Any who oppose us will be destroyed.”
Shona scanned the distant Carraig again and frowned. It looked like an unusually large number of people were swarming the streets, but the distance was so great she couldn’t see what they were doing. “Do you see the people?”
Harley nodded and her eyes hardened to the faceted crystal of a Pathfinder. “They are fleeing the city.”
“Evander must have sensed our approach,” Shona guessed.
Harley didn’t look pleased by that. Shona wondered if she’d been shielding.
“The boy was always exceptionally gifted. Today let us hope he chooses wisdom instead of folly.”
“Maybe I should wait here,” Shona suggested. Waiting in Donleavy would be even better, but several miles away from the impending conflict might offer her a chance of escape at least.
Harley hesitated, then nodded. “Perhaps you should remain at a distance.”
Shona breathed a sigh of relief, barely believing her good luck. Harley dashed her hopes all too soon, however.
“But the queen ordered you to witness, and so you shall.”