The swarms of questions weren’t doing her any good. As the emissary talked, Sarza forced her breathing to slow. After a minute or so, another premonition hit her. The emissary was trustworthy—but the king controlled her at times. And he could arrive any minute. It was time to be frank. And very cautious. Anything she said might later be repeated to Ulmin.
“Emissary Loryn,” Sarza said.
The woman flinched, obviously not used to being interrupted. “Yes?”
“I have to leave very soon. I’m . . .” Sarza took a quick breath, letting her urges guide her. She dropped her fake accent. “I’m not who you think I am. I’m sorry I lied to you.” The emissary’s mouth dropped open, but Sarza kept going. “We don’t have much time. I know the king controls people, including you. I know you may have to tell him all this later. That’s okay. I’ll be gone by then. I need you to listen to me. No one should be allowed to control people. Someone has to stop the king. But we don’t know how he’s gotten so powerful or how to fight him.”
The woman’s breathing had quickened. Eyes wide with intense fright, she said, “I’m committed to obeying my king.”
“I know.” Sarza sucked at empathy, but she tried to give the woman an understanding smile. Continuing to follow feelings that could be either panicked instincts or mild premonitions, she held her hand to her belly. “I have to go. I’m feeling ill.”
Emissary Loryn took Sarza’s hand, giving her an inscrutable, intense look. “Do not, under any circumstances, go in my office.”
Sarza’s breath stopped in her throat. Something important was in that office, though Loryn didn’t dare say it openly. “I won’t.” Sarza squeezed the emissary’s hand. “Thank you.”
She fled into the dark hallway. The first door she opened led to a small bathroom. Next, there was a broom closet, then the emissary’s bedroom.
When Sarza’s hand fell on the fourth doorknob, the sound of another door opening broke the silence of the hallway. Someone was entering the building. Sarza froze. Between her and the open door were perhaps ten mets of dark hallway. She held her breath and looked over her shoulder, wishing desperately she could disappear into the shadows.
A figure, cloaked in the dome’s darkness, walked in. Sarza closed her eyes, lest some glimmer of light reflect off the frightened tears that filled them.
Perhaps the visitor was walking at a normal pace, but to Sarza, it seemed each quiet footstep took an eternity. Every muscle in her body tightened as she anticipated hearing King Ulmin’s voice. Feeling his hand on her skin. Losing her mind to his control.
A door squeaked open. A bit of light shone through Sarza’s eyelids.
The door shut with a click. The footsteps stopped.
Sarza’s eyes flew open, her head swiveling to look behind her again. The hallway was dark and empty. The visitor had entered the chapel. She drew in a deep breath, unwilling to give in to the panicked sobs building in her chest. She turned the knob, opened the door, and slipped in.
Her pulse pounded in her neck, face and palms. She hadn’t held her breath for long, but she couldn’t stop gulping air. A light drew her gaze. It came from a tiny glass window, several simmets tall and as long as her forearm, built into the wall. On the other side was the chapel stage.
The window made sense; the emissary would want to be sure visitors didn’t disturb the stone. That little piece of glass would reveal something important to Sarza. She’d never been more certain of anything.
The king and Emissary Loryn stood between the chairs and the stage, talking. The emissary appeared to be in control of her own mind. This was the first time Sarza had ever seen King Ulmin. He looked older than she’d expected, the wrinkles on his forehead turning more pronounced when he lifted his brows in response to something the emissary said.
They both stepped onto the stage. As they got closer to Sarza’s little window, she stepped back, just in case. From her new position, she still had a good view of the stage.
Emissary Loryn knelt slowly behind the pedestal that held the stone. Sarza’s eyes narrowed as she watched the gray-clad woman take a key from her pocket and open a panel. She reached in, moved her hand a bit, then shut the panel door and stood. With a nod to the king, she stepped away from the pedestal.
King Ulmin approached, reaching out both hands. The second he touched the glass case around the stone, Sarza flinched, expecting to hear an alarm.
Nothing happened. Emissary Loryn didn’t look at all surprised. Sarza’s gaze darted down to the panel again. The emissary turned it off.
Grinning broadly, Ulmin lifted the glass case and set it on the floor. His wide eyes turned almost feral. He reached out both hands and grabbed two pieces of the stone.
Sarza tried to stifle her gasp. Did the king have a death wish? Her breathing halted as bright-orange light traveled from the artifact’s pieces to the king’s hands. The luminescent glow swirled up his arms, then covered his shoulders, his neck, his entire head. His broad chest swelled and collapsed as he took several deep breaths.
Emissary Loryn’s expression didn’t change. A heavy, harsh sureness settled into Sarza’s chest: This is normal for both of them.
After half a minute or so, the king placed the stone’s pieces back on the pedestal. The orange magic enveloping his arms, neck, and head faded away as he replaced the glass case. Emissary Loryn returned to the little panel and repeated her actions from before.
The king stepped off the stage. When the emissary finished her task, he beckoned her to join him. As soon as she stepped in front of him, her whole body slackened, her mind clearly controlled.
Sarza’s stomach tightened. She stepped closer to the window again, hoping to read their lips. She didn’t get the chance. Pressure filled her brain. Anticipating the vision she knew was coming, she dropped to the floor. As soon as she sat, the vision began.
She saw herself standing from this very spot on the floor and running from the chapel building into the night. In the vision, she held up the skirt of her ridiculous dress and sprinted nearly to the front gate. Just before she arrived, she released her dress and slowed to a demure walk. She thanked the guards and left. The gate wasn’t too far from the southwest corner of the dome. Sarza walked that direction, rounded the corner, and darted into the darkness. Behind her, someone shouted. Before anyone could get to her, Osmius landed in front of her. Sarza climbed on his back, and he lifted into the air just as guards rounded the corner of the dome. They shouted and shot, but Osmius flew her to safety.
The vision faded to nothing, then gradually lightened as a second scene began—another option. The book she’d been reading would call this a potential prophecy.
This scene started as the first had. Sarza stood from her spot on the floor. But instead of leaving, she turned to the bookshelf behind Emissary Loryn’s desk. With a suppressed grunt, she heaved it away from the wall. She reached into the narrow space, scraping her hand against the bookshelf’s wooden back. Her fingers found a small book, not much larger than her hand. She slipped it in her pocket. As before, she fled the building.
Again, she sprinted, then slowed and exited through the gate. She turned right and hurried toward the corner of the dome.
She heard the same shout as before, but this time, she was closer and could make out the words. “Arrest that woman!”
Sarza ran, royal guards from outside and inside the dome pursuing her. Faint lantern light outlined their bows, and she was certain they had guns too.
The vision ended. Post-vision pain swelled in Sarza’s brain. She ignored it. She had a choice to make. Something inside her told her that book was important. She might not be able to escape the guards. But it was worth the risk.
Without hesitating, she pushed herself to her feet and dashed to the bookshelf behind the emissary’s desk.
Cold stone pressed into Nora’s elbows, belly, and thighs. Krey lay on one side of her, Kebi on the other, both propped as she was on the curved top of the palace dome.
Guard
s stood at the gate below, but Nora’s perspective didn’t give her a good view. Osmius flew in the dark sky above, high enough to remain unrecognized. He’d been sharing his sight with Nora since they’d arrived a couple of hours ago. Thanks to his excellent night vision, she’d seen plenty of details as Sarza approached the dome and entered. Now, Nora, Krey, and Kebi all anxiously waited for the seer to exit.
Nora had been hesitant to bring Osmius. He hated flying near the palace, fearing the king would see him and capture his mind. But there was no better way to travel secretly than high in the air, on a dragon’s back. Besides, Nora doubted her father would glimpse Osmius. The king wouldn’t want to leave the safety of his dome.
He’d better not, considering that Krey was vulnerable to mind control too. But, unlike Osmius, Krey truly wanted to be here. Of everyone who knew about this mission, he had the best aim with a handgun. Plus, his flying ability could end up being an asset. Nora had agreed he should come.
They’d named Kebi as their second team member since she’d trained with a bow for over half her life and had performed well in the battle for Deroga. She’d spent the last week further honing her archery skills, even shooting arrows while flying on Krey’s back, in case such a feat would be helpful during their mission.
No one had wanted Nora to come along; they thought the future queen should stay hidden. But she’d insisted. This was her fight, more than anyone else’s.
Through the dragon sight in her mind, Nora saw movement at the gate. “I think she’s coming,” she whispered.
The gate opened. Sarza exited and turned toward the corner of the dome, nearly running. As she drew closer to safety, Nora’s heart lifted with hope.
Then everything fell apart.
A running figure approached the gate within the dome. Nora recognized her father an instant before he shouted, “Arrest that woman!”
Sarza began running. The two outdoor guards lifted guns and chased her. Four more guards—two with guns, two with bows—joined them. Krey and Kebi had jumped to their feet as soon as they heard the king. Kebi ran along the dome’s curved top as Krey flew low above it, both of them headed toward the corner Sarza was desperately trying to reach. Nora followed. While she had ice and a gun at her disposal, her primary role was to observe using Osmius’s sight and to pass along any helpful information.
She watched Sarza round the corner. Through her own eyes, she saw Krey land. He could aim better with his feet on solid ground—or, in this case, stone. He and Kebi took aim at the corner Sarza had just passed, ready for the guards to appear.
All at once, panic rushed into Nora’s body. In the space of a single second, her mind flashed with images of those her father had taken from her. Faylie. Taima. Ovrun. Now, he’d take Sarza. Nora was the only one who could end his tyranny. She’d always known that. It was time to stop expecting others to fight her battles.
Acting on pure instinct and some unstoppable urge, Nora stopped next to Krey and Kebi, who’d just halted, their weapons trained past the dome’s corner, where the first of the guards was about to turn.
“STOP!” Nora shouted.
Kebi and Krey froze. With Osmius’s sight, Nora saw two guards turning the corner, getting nearer to Sarza at every moment.
“I’m the crown princess of Cellerin!” Nora screamed to the guards on the ground. “I command you to stop!”
Two of them halted and looked up. The others didn’t react at all, continuing their pursuit. It was like they hadn’t even heard her. In a gut-dropping instant, Nora realized the guards couldn’t follow her commands if her father was controlling them.
And that wasn’t her only mistake. She’d just shouted so loud, her father had surely heard her.
Osmius! Nora cried.
I am coming, he replied.
One of the guards who’d halted now sprinted back toward the gate, doubtless to report to Ulmin. Krey followed, shooting. In the darkness and chaos, his bullets missed their marks.
The other guard who’d stopped was still staring at the top of the dome. All four remaining guards—the ones Nora assumed were controlled—continued their pursuit. Kebi shot arrows at them in quick succession. Nora disconnected from Osmius’s vision and aimed balls of ice at the guards. Two of them fell, though she couldn’t tell who’d hit them.
After a few moments that felt like a lifetime, Osmius dove from the dark sky. Rivers of white-hot fire exited his mouth, creating a long, tall, burning fence between the guards and Sarza. The guards shot bullets and arrows, but they couldn’t see their quarry. Osmius descended further, grabbing Sarza with his front claws and flying off with her, eliciting a scream.
A bullet from below smashed into the stone near Kebi. “Middle of the dome!” Nora shouted. She, Krey, and Kebi stopped their attack and ran that direction.
Osmius’s voice reached Nora’s mind. I must go so the king does not see me. Tell Krey to carry you. Meet me in the forest. He sent a picture to Nora’s mind: the clearing where he and Taima had both landed on the night Krey used his brain-lysting faculty on the king.
“Take us both!” Nora told Krey. “It won’t be a long flight.”
He grunted and knelt. Without a word, Kebi climbed on his back. Nora stood in front of him and locked her arms around his neck. She didn’t have anywhere to put her legs, as Kebi’s were around his waist. “Hold me tight!” she said.
Krey’s arms crushed her to him, and he lifted into the air, flying toward the back of the dome. Away from the king. He’d told Nora dozens of times that when he wrapped her in his magic, she was safe. But for the first time ever, her back was facing the ground as they flew. Terror, hot and acidic, burned her insides. She shoved the feeling to the side, giving Krey gasping instructions to land in the forest clearing.
He suddenly changed direction and adjusted his angle sharply upward at the same time. Nora squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in his chest.
“Sorry,” he muttered. A few seconds later, he leveled off. “Guard. Outside the dome.”
After a short, frightening flight, they reached the clearing, where Osmius was waiting, Sarza on his back. Krey landed, and both his passengers hopped off. “Quick!” Nora gasped, knowing her father would send guards to search the area. Without another word, she and Kebi climbed up. Krey lifted into the air first, followed by the great dragon.
Osmius ascended high into the darkness, then waited for Krey to catch up. They flew together through the night air.
No one spoke. Not aloud, anyway. When they were halfway to the farm, Osmius’s deep, resonant voice entered Nora’s mind, every word imbued with fury. You announced your presence. You forsook the plan. Nora-human, by the stone, what were you thinking?
The Stone Eater: 6
“What do you mean, They’re gone?” Ulmin roared.
The guard didn’t flinch. “We think the dragon flew off with the Rimorite pilgrim. We assume he carried your daughter to safety too.”
“And whoever was with her,” Ulmin muttered. “She certainly wasn’t shooting a gun and a bow at the same time.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
If only I still had a feather lyster on staff. After that boy Krey had controlled the palace’s flying guard, Ulmin had been unable to trust the woman. Krey might’ve somehow planted treason in her mind. Once Ulmin created the dome, it hadn’t seemed so important to have someone flying above the palace. He’d done away with the feather lyster; she was buried now in the palace garden. It was time to find another flyer, someone he trusted.
Ulmin released the guard’s mind and hurried back toward the chapel. Fury sent heat through his body. His joints crackled in an alarming fashion as he rushed along the uneven ground, but his fuel and the stone’s magic filled him with energy.
Breathe. Think.
Emissary Loryn had been one of his most faithful servants for his entire reign. Years ago, after his wife’s death, he’d tried to kill himself by eating animal brains. Instead of falling dead, he’d discovered his abilit
y to control minds. Immediately, he’d been addicted. With help from his chef, he ate just enough brain matter to satisfy his need, but he didn’t use his new faculty. In his mind, his new magic was horrific. Evil. His need for such a dark fuel added shame to the desolation he was already drowning in.
Ending everything hadn’t worked, so he sought comfort for his grief elsewhere. He tried discreetly inviting a woman over but couldn’t bring himself to walk her past the front door of the residence. Overindulging in alcohol was no better; it made him ill and turned him into an ineffective leader. Going for long runs through the chapel grounds helped until he injured his knee.
At last, he turned to books. The history of religion and of the stone had always fascinated him. He read book after book in the palace library, numbing his grieving heart with knowledge. Frequently, he visited Emissary Loryn to discuss what he was learning. They built a mutual trust, and one day, the emissary brought out a small book.
“An early emissary wrote this,” she said, “a generation after The Day. We’ve lost the author’s name, but we know they shared the knowledge only with the Abrios family, who then passed it on to the emissary’s successor. At some point, the knowledge became restricted to the clergy assigned to this chapel. By studying our world’s magic and history so deeply, you’ve proven yourself worthy of the truth, Your Majesty. I only ask that you not remove the book from my office. You’re welcome to come here and read it whenever you like.”
She handed him the little volume, and it changed his life.
When he felt ready to use the knowledge in the book to strengthen the magic he’d been given, Emissary Loryn refused his request. She’d known nothing of his darker faculty, but even enhanced stone magic was, in her mind, too dangerous to play with. After months of trying, he’d at last convinced her that he’d use his new power for good. She’d given him access to the stone. Because she’d trusted him.
The Stone Eater (The Magic Eaters Trilogy Book 3) Page 19