The Crown of Stones: Magic-Price

by C. L. Schneider

  Nevertheless, it was the exposure of more recent events I was dreading the most. The secrets I’d made of Reth and Sienn wouldn’t sit well with him. Neither would the dream-weave and the degree of damage it had inflicted. The rage, the helplessness, the pain and the need the spell had created in me; Jarryd would endure it all through my memories. He would re-live my obsession for Neela and know her as I did. He would feel her. Want her. Share in her, I thought, feeling an irrational wave of resentment speed through me. It was followed by desire, jealousy, and other unbecoming things that I frantically tried to force away.

  As Jarryd’s body stiffened, I knew I hadn’t been quick enough.

  “Emotional and physical sensations,” I said apologetically, “strong reactions and changes in moods. They all travel instantly across the tether that runs between us.”

  “That’s why my head is starting to hurt. I feel what you feel.” He sighed and faced me. “How is that a good thing?”

  “You can learn to ignore it, to push away what you don’t want. We both can.”

  “You said this wasn’t done anymore.”

  “There hasn’t been a pairing of Shinree soldiers in over five hundred years.”

  “I’m not a soldier. I’m not even Shinree.”

  “And I don’t know how that will affect things.”

  Jarryd rubbed at the symbols on his palm. “They look so harmless. But I don’t even want to go home now. The thought of Kabri makes me feel trapped, bitter.”

  “That’s my fault. Once you can distinguish what’s me, you can block out—”

  “Neela?” he said sharply. “Can I block out your thoughts of her? Your dreams?”

  “I swear, Jarryd, I didn’t know it was her. I just found out myself.”

  His hands twitched like they were aching to wrap around my throat. “Why didn’t you tell me about Jem Reth, about his spell? The images I got from your mind… How do you live with this stuff in your head? How are you not angry all the time? Just knowing what they did to you makes me want to rip Draken’s fucking head off and shove it down Reth’s throat.”

  “That pretty much sums up it up.”

  “Gods.” He ran both hands through his hair. “Sick, fucking bastards.”

  “Sick or not, Reth knew what he was doing. He created a lure as any good hunter would. Giving me something I wanted and then snatching it away.”

  “Something you wanted? You don’t even know Neela.”

  “What he gave me was the kind of life I never thought I’d have. Draken only used Neela because he could use the threat of their marriage against me.”

  “That Shinree woman, Sienn, she stopped the spell. So the dreams are done.”

  “They are. But the way I recall them isn’t normal. They’re too vivid, too real. It’s like I’m there. Like they aren’t memories, but—”

  Her hands ran over me, broken and bloody. Her lips touched mine.

  “They come over me sometimes,” I said, a little shaky.

  Splatters of warm blood hit my face. Ropes cut into my skin.

  Clenching my fists, I pushed the images away.

  Her burned arms reached for me. “Save me,” she pleaded.

  I slammed my hand against the post of the bed. “Fucking leave me alone!”

  Jarryd took an anxious step. “What is it? What do you see? Is it Neela?”

  I nodded. “I hoped it was over. That with the dreams gone I wouldn’t see her like this anymore. God damn it!” I hit the bed again. “We’ll be in Kabri in a matter of days. How am I going to face her? I can feel Neela in my hands, Jarryd. I can feel her and she doesn’t even know me.”

  “I know her. I have loved Neela Arcana as long as I can remember. I would give my life for hers, well beyond the oath I took to serve Rella.”

  “Great,” I sighed. “Let’s just fight over her now and get it over with.”

  “Let me finish,” he said harshly. “Neela and I were childhood friends. For a while we were close, but this sharp, shrewd, restrained Princess emerged and the girl I knew died. I had little choice but to bury her.”

  “Not far enough, I’m thinking. The way you went after Guidon back in Kael.”

  Jarryd lifted a shoulder in a faint, half shrug; a gesture that was definitely his own. “The past creeps up. But Neela is Rella’s Queen. There is no place for me in her life anymore. There never was. And that can only help you.”

  “Sorry, my friend, but I don’t see how your unrequited love will help anything.”

  “Understanding the reality of who Neela truly is, recognizing the differences between her and the girl in your dreams…that has to do something to override the illusion. At least make it less powerful. Make her less enticing.”

  “Or, she could become your obsession as well as mine.” I shook my throbbing head. “I’m sorry, Jarryd. I should never have brought you into this.”

  He gave me an impatient glare. “Closer than brothers. That’s what you said back in Kael when you were describing this very spell—when you were adamantly telling me that no Shinree would ever take part in such a thing with a Langorian.”

  “Guess I was wrong.”

  “But maybe you aren’t wrong about this.”

  “I’ve done things, Jarryd. I’m not a good person. Shinree are addicts by nature and if you inherited that from me…” I couldn’t finish. Overcome with doubt and rage, I raised a fist to strike the post again, and Jarryd stopped me.

  Clasping his scarred palm to mine, he pulled me to my feet. “Is it possible,” he said, “that all of this happened for a reason? That the Shinree God of Fate himself placed your dagger in Langorian hands because he knew it would take something this drastic to make you understand that you aren’t alone in this fight. Maybe, he knew you would need more than magic to defeat Draken and Reth. Or, maybe,” with a jolt, I felt a great surge of strength leap from him into me, “you just need more.”

  Energy sunk in from where our hands came together. It raced through me and the ache in my head began to dim. An instant later, a different sensation swept in. It was strong and startling, but it was neither pain nor pleasure. It was simply a notion, a conspicuous and comfortable presence inside me that I could only define as something other than myself.

  FORTY ONE

  We pushed out of the brush at the mid-way point of a lengthy strip of white sand beach. Across the water was Rella, connected at the northern end of the shore by a slender rocky belt of land. Beyond the bridge lie The Shallows, a long, low, narrow river that served as a natural border between the two kingdoms. The canal extended up past the swamps to empty out into the violent waters of the Northern Sea. In the other direction, to the south, the main road into Kael sprouted off the beach. Snaking up the coast, the road wound around the mountains all the way to the city.

  The inlet, bleeding out into the ocean as it did, was a busy, well-traveled spot. Villagers from both realms trawled the water. Most days, boats could be seen bobbing in the waves from sunup to sundown, while merchants and their families journeyed back and forth across the bridge looking to trade or sell their wares.

  Today, no one crossed the bridge or walked the road. There wasn’t a single boat, net, or trap in sight. No fisherman either. Likely, it was the three Arullan warriors, two eldring, and Jem Reth, that had scared them all away.

  Positioned in a line at the edge of the waves, the eldring were on their haunches, heads down to keep the sun out of their eyes. The warriors, two men and one woman, all midnight dark in skin and hair, were focused and well armed. Reth, boots fixed firmly in the sand, cloak flapping in the breeze, peered sedately and silently through the holes in his bronze mask, watching me.

  Jarryd leaned in. “Any ideas?”

  “Reth wants to bargain. He won’t attack unless I provoke him.”

  “And if he provokes you?”

  “Hopefully, it won’t come to that. I’ll show interest in his plan. Get him talking. Maybe I can find out what’s in Tam’s journal.”

&nbs
p; Jarryd eyed me doubtfully. “You really think that old book has the answers?”

  “Magic wise, I shouldn’t be doing the things I’m doing. If the crown is boosting my abilities, maybe it’s boosting his too. If I can find out how, maybe I can reverse it, or use it against him.”

  “That’s a lot of ‘ifs’ and ‘maybes’, Ian. I don’t like it.”

  “Yeah, well I haven’t had an option I did like in a long time.”

  Jarryd’s hand slid to the quiver hanging off his saddle. “There is another way.”

  “No. It’s too dangerous. Reth won’t let you draw on him. And neither will I.”

  “Well, if I can’t shoot him,” Jarryd tightened his grip on the reins. “Then let’s go say hello.” He kicked his horse into a fast start. Showering me with sand, his mount shot down the dune with purpose. In response, the eldring went down on all fours and started on an intercept course.

  “Son of a bitch.” Speeding forward, as Kya crossed between Jarryd and the fast approaching eldring, I slid to the sand, drew swords, and woke the obsidian inside me all at the same time. I willed the stone’s strength into my arms. It streamed down into my blades and I took up position.

  The eldring bounded closer. They pushed off their hind legs. I spun. Coming around, swinging both swords in a high arc, as the eldring jumped, I cut clean through their muscular midsections like they were no thicker than a blade of grass.

  Their pieces hit the ground like boulders. A full second later, a fall of brown, brittle leaves drifted down on the breeze to cover their remains.

  I’d managed to suck the life out of the only tree on the beach.

  Pivoting from Reth’s angry eyes, I looked at Jarryd. His expression was no better, but it wavered as he jumped down off his saddle and winced at what was a fair amount of gore on my face. Mopping at it, I pointed to the bridge. “You need to go.”

  Jarryd responded with a terse, “No way. I’m not letting you face Reth alone.”

  “And I’m not letting him anywhere near you.”

  “I’m not a fucking child, Ian. I can fight. I want to fight.” He held up his hands. “I can kill with these now.”

  With a hiss I pushed them down before Reth noticed the scar. “Having some of my abilities,” I said, lowering my voice, “and knowing what to do with them are two different things. You can’t be reckless with this.”

  “Reckless?” Jarryd shot back. “I’m whatever you made me.” His temper flaring, it rolled in like a storm through the link. I tried to absorb it with some semblance of detachment, but it had only been a day and a half, and I hadn’t learned how to do that yet.

  “This is still new. It will settle. For both of us,” I said, fighting to keep his anger from becoming mine. “But right now, I have to go down there and pretend I don’t want to slit that bastard’s throat. I can’t do that with you in my head, Jarryd. I’m sorry.”

  Undoubtedly, there was an easy way to halt the constant transfer between us, but I hadn’t learned that either. All I had was a trick I relied on after the war, when I was doing everything I could to stop casting. It involved visualizing a section of wall in my mind and filling it with the faces of my victims. Trapping my addiction on the other side, I used the guilt of my past to divide me from the temptations of my present.

  Now, things were less complicated. I wanted isolation. I wanted to be separate and alone. So I closed my eyes. I pictured the surface smooth and utterly blank. I focused on its perfect, seamless emptiness; on its seclusion and clarity.

  I kept with those simple thoughts, and built the wall higher.

  Fanning it out, I grew it broader and stronger. I lengthened it. Both ends met. As they slammed together, I felt a sudden, definite break in the magical thread that tied my soul to another—and Jarryd’s anger was gone. I couldn’t feel a single physical or emotional sensation that belonged to him. I was aware only of my own mind and body.

  I was normal again. Except, normal felt completely wrong.

  There was an uncomfortable quiet in me, a disturbing sense of desolation.

  Being disconnected had opened up a hole. If I didn’t fill it soon, it would get deeper. Its jaws would open wider.

  If the hole were allowed to become permanent, it would swallow me.

  This is what my future self was feeling in the vision.

  This is what it will be like when Jarryd dies.

  I opened my eyes. The process to block our link had taken no time at all. Yet it was enough for the two Arullans to get Jarryd on his knees, with their swords against his throat. The woman wore little to cover her strong body but weapons. Her fellow watchdog was a short, squat man with an even shorter, squatter face. They both looked mean as hell.

  “Sorry,” Jarryd said to me.

  “Don’t be.”

  “Must be a spell,” he said, still apologizing. “They moved so fast.”

  The male Arullan gripped Jarryd’s braid and forced his head back. “We can still move nice and slow when we want.” Running the tip of his blade down the side of Jarryd’s neck, he carved a thin, gradual, line. “See?” He yanked Jarryd closer. “We’re going to have so much fun together.”

  “Leave him alone,” I warned.

  The Arullan’s slit-like eyes shifted to mine. He slammed the pommel of his short sword into Jarryd’s head and shrugged. “Oops.”

  “If he’s not alive when this is over,” I vowed, “neither are you.” I headed down to the water. Reth was still at the edge of the waves, guarded by the third Arullan, and radiating patience he clearly didn’t have; the sand hadn’t even stopped crunching under my boots before he barked at me.

  “Idiot! You’ve joined souls with him?” He tossed a hand at Jarryd. “A messenger from Kabri? A commoner?”

  “Better than that piece of shit Langorian you tied yourself to.”

  “Draken is a King! Our joining has taught me how to lead our people.”

  “You’re using a mad tyrant as a model for kingship?” Laughing, I glanced at the warrior next to him. Large and bald, the man’s dark face was so sharp it was like staring at a rock. “Bodyguards, huh? I must be starting to worry you.”

  Reth let out a grunt. “Hardly. I intercepted these three on their way to collect on a hefty reward for your head. Apparently, with the recent fracture of the Arullan government, old grudges have become new again.”

  I slid my blades away. “And you had nothing to do with that?”

  “Their hatred of you? No, you incited that when you killed Aylagar. As far as the split goes, Draken did offer an alliance to Arulla. Those with wisdom have taken it. Those without will suffer for their stupidity.”

  “Your new watchdogs will suffer a lot more if they don’t release my friend.”

  “I think you have it backwards. Instilled with my gift of speed, you can’t possibly cast faster than they can swing.” Reth held a hand out to the Arullan beside him. In silence, the man unhooked a metal flask from his belt. “This,” Reth said, taking it, “is the key to your friend’s continued health.” Removing the cork, he held it out. “Drink.”

  I leaned in and took a sniff. It was pure Kayn’l. “I’m not drinking this.”

  Reth gave a nod to the Arullans holding Jarryd. Shoving him roughly to the ground, they both started kicking him. He tried to fight back, but his attacker’s legs moved like a blur, and in mere moments, Jarryd had stopped moving.

  “ENOUGH!” I shouted. Surprisingly, they left off. I turned to Reth and his guard’s fist struck my face absurdly fast. In a flash, I was on my back with the man on top of me, the flask in my mouth, and a steady stream of bitter, syrupy thickness pouring down my throat. I went to shove him off but I couldn’t lift my arms. I couldn’t move my legs. It was like the sand itself was holding me down.

  “Swallow,” the Arullan ordered me. “Or the pretty Rellan boy starts losing important parts. Either is fine with me.” Grinning, he tipped the flask higher. The Kayn’l filled my mouth and overflowed; shooting out around the edge
s, rushing into my lungs, sputtered out my nose.

  I heard Jarryd scream and I swallowed as much as I could. The rest, I choked on.

  When the flask was empty my captor let me go. “Tasty, eh?” he chuckled. He sunk a fist into my stomach as he got up.

  Gasping and gagging, I coughed out a weak, “Fuck off, Arullan.”

  “Mind your manners, witch. Or I’ll give you something else to swallow.” Grabbing his cock through his pants, he let out a coarse laugh.

  “Silence!” Reth thundered, and the Arullan’s body went unnaturally still. At the same time, the sand shifted, and mine became mobile.

  Rolling onto my side, I wiped the gluey, black liquid off my face. A good deal of it was soaking the front of my clothes as well, but enough had gotten in me. Already, I could feel a slight numbness spreading through my body.

  I snarled at Reth as I pushed to my feet. “What the hell was that for?”

  “Your own good,” he answered boldly. “Trying to cast against me would not have been wise. So I removed the temptation.” Reth beckoned, and the Arullan woman left Jarryd’s side. The man, however, lingered. Grinning to himself, he squatted and put his blade to the back of his Jarryd’s neck.

  No!” I started to go to him, but the sand tightened around my boots. I tried casting, but when I reached for the stones, there was nothing. Pleading with Reth would get me nowhere, so I tore down the wall that separated me from Jarryd and conveyed motion and urgency across the link. I flooded our connection with my own desperation and adrenaline, willing Jarryd to hear me. But the Kayn’l had reduced him to a fuzzy thought in the back of my mind and I had no idea if my warning was getting through, or if he was even alive.

  Until, he struck.

  In one, rapid, fluid move, Jarryd twisted away, wrapped his legs around the Arullan’s ankles and yanked his feet out from under him. The moment the man hit the ground Jarryd kicked him in the face, then kicked the weapon from his grip and snatched it up.

  Brandishing the short sword in his hand like he was born with it, Jarryd hovered over his opponent. A slight, crooked grin tugged at one corner of his bruised mouth as went down onto one knee and without a word (or the slightest hesitation) drove the blade clean through the Arullan’s neck.