The Stone Eater (The Magic Eaters Trilogy Book 3)

by Carol Beth Anderson

  Moments later, strong claws grasped Nora and Krey around their waists, lifting them from the ground. They both screamed. Nora grabbed the claw holding her. It was covered in oval-shaped scales. Thank the stone—it was Vin. Gild was probably lying on the ground nearby. Hopefully still alive.

  The flight lasted only a minute or so, but it would take far longer for the king’s people to cover such a distance. Nora found herself dropped unceremoniously on the ground, right next to Osmius. The team’s packs were tied together and draped around his neck. Zeisha was already on his back. She looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of Vin’s departing form.

  By the orange sky, Nora needed her dragon-speaking ability back. She screamed at all three dragons in her mind, hoping her attempted use of magic would burn up her shield fuel.

  Osmius nudged her with his nose, pushing her toward his back. She took the hint and climbed up, still crying out to him in her mind. Krey mounted after her.

  Vin soon returned carrying Joli and Kebi, both moaning in pain.

  “Osmius, can we get some light?” Nora asked aloud.

  He created a white ball of fire in his mouth. Its light illuminated a stone spike in Joli’s shoulder and a large gash on Kebi’s leg. Vin gently deposited them on Osmius’s back. Now there were five people on the gray dragon.

  “Should I get down?” Krey asked. “Vin can come get me after he picks up Sharai.”

  Nora didn’t want to risk leaving him behind. Plus, being crowded might not be a bad thing. The injured women would need to be held securely as they flew. “Osmius,” she said aloud, “we need to go to a healer. Can you carry five of us—even slowly?”

  The ball of fire in Osmius’s mouth moved as he nodded.

  Nora, Krey, and Zeisha arranged themselves, using their own bodies to carefully cover Kebi, who was now in shock, and Joli, who appeared ready to pass out. “Let’s go!” Nora said.

  Osmius quenched his fire and rose into the air.

  “Osmius,” Nora said, “Ovrun was with the king! Can you please tell Vin? Send him a mental image of what Ovrun looks like? Maybe he can pick him up along with Sharai.”

  With everything in her, she wanted Vin to look for Sarza too. If the seer was still alive, perhaps a healer could save her. But Sarza had been lying near the king. There was no way for Vin to get her without risking being touched by Ulmin. Besides, being carried in a dragon’s claws would certainly hasten Sarza’s death, rather than saving her life.

  At least they could get help for Joli and Kebi. The mayor who’d assisted them had given them directions to an excellent blood lyster. As Osmius flew that direction, Nora continued to send out telepathic cries, blocked by her shield fuel. She was reciting a poem she’d learned years ago when a voice entered her mind.

  Why do you scream, Nora-human?

  Nora laughed aloud. Oh, thank the stone, I burned up my shield fuel! She reached out to Vin. Is Gild okay?

  She fell. I believe she is merely unconscious.

  Good. Are you on your way?

  I am. I do not, however, have your friend.

  She’d known Vin probably couldn’t get Ovrun, but her chest ached with the knowledge. Ovrun had been traveling dressed as a guard. His fellow guards had surely seen him helping Nora’s team. What kind of punishment would that earn him?

  Vin’s voice turned low and foreboding. I also did not retrieve Sharai.

  Why not?

  When I returned, she was speaking with the king. Nora could almost feel his anger warming her. She did not appear to be a captive. I believe her loyalties have shifted.

  “Damn it!” Nora whispered. Had Sharai faked her side of the relationship they’d built? Maybe she resented not being in the inner circle. Or had it been a pragmatic decision, made in the moment she’d realized their attack on Ulmin was unsuccessful? Krey had always said Sharai’s goal was to ally herself with the winner, whoever it was. Maybe he’d been right.

  And maybe Sharai was right too. Nora was clearly fighting a losing battle. Her father was still free. One of her allies was most likely dead. The king now controlled sweet, gentle Gild. Then there was Ovrun. For some reason Nora couldn’t fathom, he’d been traveling as one of the king’s guards . . . but they’d lost their chance to rescue him. Could this get any worse?

  Vin cried out, his voice panicked and fierce. Gild is attacking me! An image invaded Nora’s mind: fire and claws, teeth and scales. Then the picture disappeared.

  Nora cursed again, then called to Krey and Zeisha, “I’ve been talking to Vin. I have a lot of bad news.”

  26

  The morning after an emotional night is the worst. I woke with my eyes gummy and swollen from crying. My mind screamed that I’d just messed up an amazing future. To make it all worse, I’m having trouble figuring out why we were fighting.

  Apparently the queen wants Ulmin and me to work it out, because she sent a carriage to fetch me for lunch. She’s an excellent conversationalist, but today Ulmin and I were both quiet. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I wished I could fix things with him.

  When my mind’s full of the things I can’t say, I have trouble saying anything at all.

  -Letter from Ambrel Kaulder to Dani Kaulder

  Dated Barna 11, 180 PD

  Osmius landed in a meadow behind a little cottage. “I’ll get the blood lyster!” Nora called. She ran to the house and knocked loudly enough to wake even the soundest sleeper, not letting up until the door opened.

  A man of about thirty stood there in pajamas, holding a candle. His eyes widened when he took in Nora’s appearance. Her cheek must look worse than it felt. “Come in. I’ll heal you.”

  “There are two others who need it more.” Nora pointed behind her.

  “I’ll get my fuel.” He turned.

  “You’ll need a lot!” Nora called.

  He emerged with a clay jug. “I take it we’re going to that light?”

  Osmius had a ball of white fire in his mouth again. “Yes,” Nora said. “And I should warn you, that light is dragon fire.”

  The man’s mouth dropped open.

  “They don’t have time for you to get freaked out about it,” Nora said.

  He blinked once, then nodded, all business. They ran to Osmius. It only took half a minute, but the healer was breathless as he looked up at the dragon.

  “You’ll need to climb on his back,” Nora said. “They’re bleeding, and we didn’t want to move them.”

  Krey dropped to the ground to make more space on Osmius’s back. The healer lifted the jug to his mouth. Nora looked away as he fueled up, nearly gagging as she heard him swallowing what she knew was thick, yellow blood. When he finished, she showed him how to use the edges of Osmius’s scales as handholds and footholds.

  The healer climbed up. Osmius bent his neck to direct the light on the injured women. Zeisha showed the healer the wounds on Joli’s shoulder and Kebi’s leg.

  A few seconds later, he stopped. “My magic—it’s not working.”

  “Damn it, the shield fuel is blocking it,” Krey said. “We should’ve thought of that.”

  After a quick conversation, they determined the best way to burn up Joli’s and Kebi’s shield fuel was for Zeisha and Nora to attack them with magic. Zeisha began shooting vines at Joli.

  The ice in Nora’s pack was a solid block. Osmius attacked it with his claws, and she ate the broken pieces as fast as she could. When she’d eaten a couple of handfuls of fuel, she climbed halfway up Osmius’s back and began aiming ice at Kebi. Krey kept handing up additional handfuls of ice until she insisted she couldn’t eat more. He began eating it himself so he could burn up his shield fuel by attempting to use his magic.

  Small balls of ice left Nora’s hands, one after another. When each ball got close to Kebi, it changed direction, gliding over an invisible shield before dropping to Osmius’s back. Zeisha’s vines did the same as they approached Joli. After several minutes, a vine finally hit Joli. The healer began working on her, and Nora con
tinued targeting Kebi until the trog’s fuel stopped protecting her.

  She dropped to the ground and sat next to Krey, both of them coughing occasionally. They handed the jug of fuel to the healer when he requested it for a refill. Krey successfully got his own magic working again. His knee bobbed up and down as they continued to wait.

  Vin’s voice entered Nora’s mind. I . . . cannot . . . His weakness was unmistakable. I . . . am . . . He trailed off.

  Vin, are you injured? Nora asked. What happened?

  He didn’t answer.

  VIN!

  The responding silence seemed just as loud as her telepathic cry. Her breaths came faster, and her pounding heart threatened to break her ribs. Osmius, we’ve already lost Gild, and Sarza and Sharai, and Ovrun—again! We can’t afford—

  SILENCE. Osmius’s voice erupted in her mind, before softening. Breathe, Nora-human.

  She sucked in a deep breath, though it took effort.

  Come to me, Osmius said.

  Nora walked to him, and he lowered his head. Warmth puffed from both his nostrils, rustling her hair. It would’ve made her giggle if she hadn’t been so stressed.

  Despite all that has happened, Osmius said, we must plan our next steps. Let us assume your father has information from Sharai and that he has a dragon at his disposal. What will he do?

  Nora groaned audibly.

  No time for that. The dragon’s gentle voice belied his words. What will he do? Breathe and think, Nora-human.

  She obeyed, and the truth hit her in an instant. It should’ve been at the forefront of her mind as soon as she’d heard Sharai was gone, but she’d been too distracted to think clearly. Sharai will tell my father everything. He may take Gild to search for us from the air. Then . . . oh, Osmius, Sharai will lead him to the farms! He’ll arrest them, or kill them all—Hatlin, the militia, the farmers, everyone. We have to go there. We have to warn them—but Gild is faster than you! We’ll be too late! Her breathing picked up its pace again. We can’t let him get to the farms, but there’s no way—

  Yes, Osmius interrupted. We must warn those at the farms. It may not be too late. Perhaps something will delay the king.

  But he’ll force Gild to attack them! All those innocent families!

  We shall do all we can do. We must trust it will be enough.

  It won’t!

  Still, we shall try.

  We have to find a place for everyone but me to hide. You can’t take us all to the farms; we’re too—

  Breathe, strong princess.

  The gentle words filled her mind, resonating against her anxiety, chipping away at it. As she worked to slow her breathing, the healer climbed down. “They’ll both be okay, but the one with the shoulder wound will be very sore. It’ll take some time for her to fully heal.” He took his jug from Nora and lifted it to his lips for one more swallow. After setting it on the ground, he gestured to her cheek. “May I heal you?”

  “Actually, we need to go—”

  “Your eye may swell shut if I don’t heal you. Please, I’ll be quick.”

  She nodded. Immediate relief flooded her cheek when he touched it.

  After several seconds, he removed his hand. “I’m glad you got here when you did tonight. Your friend with the shoulder injury lost a lot of blood. She’ll be exhausted.”

  “Thank you. I can’t pay you, but I’ll come back another time—”

  He held up his hands. “I have a paying job as a painter. I don’t charge for healing.”

  “Thank you.” She let out a short cough that turned into an extended, deep one.

  “Are you ill?” the healer asked.

  “We all breathed in a lot of dust tonight.”

  “I can heal that too, if you’d like.”

  “We really don’t have time—”

  Your lungs need healing, Osmius said, his voice firm.

  “Please make it quick,” she told the healer.

  “Turn around.” He put his hands under her shirt, over her ribs. Nora hadn’t realized how congested her lungs still felt until she coughed out a stream of foul-tasting mucus, and her breathing cleared. The healer slid his hands from her shirt, and she turned. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Your Highness.” Seeing her raised eyebrows, he smiled. “The dragon gave it away.”

  “His lungs need healing too,” Nora said, pointing to Krey, “along with the two women you already healed.”

  He drank more fuel and got to work. Nora updated the others on Vin’s message and on her plan to fly to the farms with Osmius, once the rest of them were safely hidden from sight.

  When the healer finished, Nora and Krey thanked him, then mounted Osmius. He took to the air to search for a hiding place.

  Joli and Kebi were awake, but no one spoke as they flew. Nora ruminated over the absolute disaster this evening had been. Sharai, Sarza, Ovrun, Gild, and now Vin . . . all valued allies and friends, all dead, captured, missing, or working for the enemy.

  She’d fly with Osmius to the farms and try to warn the people there. But in her heart, she knew it was too late.

  Too late to save the rebels. Too late to bring down her father.

  Too late to bring justice and peace to Cellerin.

  Krey was crammed with four others on a dragon’s back, yet he wasn’t scared. He was too fixated on the sock-wrapped stone in his pocket. It was small but held a weight far beyond its size.

  What the hell am I supposed to do with it?

  He and Nora had known her father would be traveling with part of the stone, and they’d discussed what to do with the object if they captured him. Nora had been firm in her belief that one person should never have that much power. She’d vowed that no one on her team would ever touch the stone. They’d protect it until they could return it to the other stone pieces in the chapel.

  She’d told Sarza, Zeisha, Kebi, and Joli of her decision. They’d all seemed to agree with her. So why had Sarza stolen the thing? And why had she given it to Krey of all people—Krey, who’d already shown his willingness to dabble in magic’s dark side?

  He could almost hear it calling to him. What could he do with enhanced magic? Fly faster and farther than a dragon? Create ice cold enough to turn Ulmin’s stone dome brittle? The possibilities danced in his mind, but he did his best to shut them out. That’s not who I am. I have to get rid of this thing.

  Maybe he should drop it right now, let it plunge to the ground. It would sit in that sock, losing its power due to its separation from the other pieces. Holding Osmius tightly with his left hand, he slipped his right hand in his pocket—then pulled it out. He couldn’t do it. The stone was far too valuable to drop it in the middle of nowhere.

  Its power continued to call to him. “What am I supposed to do?” he breathed, too quietly for anyone but God to hear.

  Cool wind blew over him, and with it came clarity. Now that the stone was in his pocket, there was no way he could keep such knowledge to himself. He’d tell Nora. She’d make sure he didn’t do anything stupid with it.

  He half hoped she’d say they should use it. They were in far worse shape than they’d been a couple of hours ago. Maybe the stone’s magic could turn the tide, helping them stop Ulmin from gathering his new Overseers and further devastating his nation.

  The thought made Krey’s heart thump harder, anticipation and terror warring in his chest. Ulmin’s use of magic was wrong. Evil. Dangerous.

  Could they borrow his magic without becoming like him?

  Nora’s voice interrupted his dark thoughts. “There’s a deserted farm below us,” she called. “We’ll drop you off, and then I’ll go to the farms with Osmius.”

  He’d talk to her. But it would have to wait.

  The Stone Eater: 9

  Controlling a dragon was mentally taxing.

  But oh, it was worth it.

  As the huge, golden beast fought with the smaller dragon, Ulmin kept a portion of his mind connected to the reptid, even as he handled the other urgen
t matters fighting for his attention.

  “Pursue my daughter and the other traitors!” he shouted to his guards. Coughs overtook him. When he recovered, he grabbed a female guard who was running past him. “Take an orsa back to Ravind. In my name, instruct the mayor to provide us with a healer and two rested orsas for the two of you to ride. Hurry! Go!”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  Ulmin’s knees suddenly felt weak. He pulled two tiny brains from his pocket and downed them, sighing as familiar strength filled him again.

  The ground shook. A dragon must have fallen, though Ulmin couldn’t tell which one. It was dark as the stone out here. He scrambled to one of the uninjured orsas, digging in the saddlebags and pulling out a small lantern, oil, and matches.

  When he’d lit the lantern, he turned to find his dragon, but his attention was arrested by a skinny, one-booted girl lying in his path.

  The girl who’d stolen the stone from his pocket.

  Roaring with anger, Ulmin knelt. She was unconscious, a knife blade protruding through her belly, her chest barely moving. Her blood soaked into the knees of his pants as he frantically went through her pockets.

  She didn’t have the stone.

  He scrabbled in the dirt. Had she given it to someone else? Thrown it away? Panic squeezed his heart as he dug through her pockets again.

  “Your Majesty,” someone said.

  “Not right now.”

  “Your Majesty.”

  He glanced up. Sharai—the traitor who’d joined his daughter’s side—was standing over him. He’d seen her during the skirmish, doing her damnedest to stay out of it all. He leapt to his feet and extended his hands, whether to strangle her or control her, he didn’t know.

  She scurried out of his reach. “Please—listen to me. Then you can do whatever you want with me.”

  He took in her narrow face, peeking over an orsa’s back at him. By the sky, he hated her—that short hair that was now messy and shaggy; those wide eyes; that stupid, thin mouth that had pledged loyalty to him over the years and had lately done the same to Nora. “Put your hands up,” he said. “Come over here.”