Secret in the Stone
Page 1
For Gabriella Rose and Matthias James,
you’re lucky to have me for a sister—but I’m even luckier to be your sister
Also by Kamilla Benko
The Unicorn Quest
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
“WAR CHANT”
Axes chop
And hammers swing,
Soldiers stomp,
But diamonds gleam.
Mothers weep
And fathers worry,
But only war
Can bring me glory.
Emeralds shine
And rubies mourn,
But there’s no mine
For unicorn’s horn.
Axes chop
And hammers swing,
My heart stops,
But war cries ring.
Gemmer Army Marching Chant
Lyrics circa 990 Craft Era
Composer unknown
CHAPTER
1
Graveyard.
That was the first word that came to Claire Martinson’s mind as she took in the ruined city ahead of her.
The second and third words were: Absolutely not. There was no way this could be the city they’d been seeking—the Gemmer school where Claire would learn how to perfect her magic.
Where she was going to figure out how to bring unicorns back to Arden.
This was …
“A ghost town,” Claire whispered.
“Are you sure it’s Stonehaven?” Sophie asked, and Claire was glad to hear some apprehension in her older sister’s voice. If Sophie, who at the age of thirteen had already explored a magical land by herself, defeated a mysterious illness, and passed sixth grade, wasn’t feeling great about their final destination, then maybe Claire wasn’t such a coward after all.
“It looks so …”
“Creepy?” Claire offered.
Sophie tightened the ribbon on her ponytail. “Desolate,” she finished.
Desolate, indeed. Stone houses stood abandoned, their windows as empty as the sockets of a skull. Weeds grew in the cracks of cobblestone roads, and a fine layer of white dust coated everything. Claire half expected a ghost to jump out at them, and after everything that had happened, she wouldn’t have been surprised.
Well, maybe she would have been a little surprised, but in the last couple of weeks, Claire had gotten used to unusual things. Like the fact that other worlds existed, that art could be magic, and that unicorns were real.
“Hold a moment, Princesses!” Claire jumped as Anvil Malchain, their guide and traveling companion, turned the corner to join them.
Another unusual thing Claire now knew: she was a princess.
Only a few weeks ago, Claire and Sophie hadn’t been princesses at all—just sisters, who had a mom and a dad, and a summer that they would be spending in their late great-aunt Diana’s mansion, organizing all her mysterious artifacts for an estate sale in the fall. But then they had discovered a ladder in a fireplace, and everything had changed.
Because at the end of the ladder it had not been Windemere Manor’s roof, but an old stone well that opened into another world: Arden, a land of monsters and magic. A land that had once been ruled by Claire and Sophie’s ancestors. A land that now needed saving.
A land that needed unicorns.
Which was where the two new princesses of Arden came into it: they had brought the magical moonstone necklace from their world to Arden. Only they weren’t moonstones at all, but moontears—and they were supposed to usher in a new age of unicorns. The only thing was, neither of them knew how to wake the moontears.
And that was why they had been climbing Starscrape Mountain: so they could get to Stonehaven, a settlement of Gemmers who might be able to show them how. The Gemmer Guild, after all, understood the nature of rock and minerals, and was able to harness the magic and power within them.
But Stonehaven was supposed to be a place with answers, not this empty town. A cold wind brushed against Claire’s neck, and a low moan rose around them as the wind played through the abandoned buildings.
“Where is everyone?” Claire asked Anvil as he caught up with them. One of the most talented Forgers of Arden, Anvil was famed and feared for his talent with metal and his double-headed ax. But as Claire had gotten to know him, she’d realized he wasn’t like an ax at all. Instead, he was more like a wrought iron gate: straight-backed, a bit foreboding, but also protective. He’d been following behind them, covering their tracks so that no one could tell they had passed.
“In Starscrape Citadel, I expect,” Anvil said, pointing toward the mountain’s peak.
Shielding her eyes, Claire squinted against the sun. The small houses continued to march up the mountainside, spiraling around to the summit’s flourish: the gleaming domed roof of a marble castle.
Amid all the other rubble, the castle looked … enchanting. Magical. Which, she supposed, made sense.
“Now that’s more like it,” Sophie said, sounding pleased. “A palace! An Experience!” She looked over at Claire. “Maybe they’ll help me find my magic, like you.”
Claire’s chest pinged as it always did when Sophie pointed out this difference between them. It wasn’t her fault, but she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Most everyone in Arden had had the ability to shape the magic found in the natural world around them: members of the Tiller Guild worked with plants, while Forgers crafted metal, Spinners handled thread, and Gemmers carved stone.
Claire had discovered she was a Gemmer, having inherited her family’s propensity for rock, when she liberated a legendary unicorn from stone. More specifically, from a monolith called Unicorn Rock.
But for some reason she could only guess at, Sophie didn’t seem to have any magic of her own. Which was weird, because Claire had always thought of her sister as the magical one of the two. Sophie was the brave one, the one who had sought out Experiences rather than hiding behind a sketch pad like Claire.
“And here,” Anvil said, “I’m afraid, I must leave you.”
Claire’s stomach swooped, even though she knew firsthand why he—a member of the Forger Guild—couldn’t trespass on land claimed by the Gemmer Guild. The guilds were deeply mistrustful of one another, and except for limited trading, interaction between the four guilds was forbidden by law.
“You can’t leave us,” Sophie protested. “Look at this place!”
Anvil reached under his chain mail shirt and pulled something out.
“Here,” he said, pressing a bronze circle into Sophie’s hand. Claire immediately recognized it as a Kompass. Not a compass, like back at home i
n the world of Windemere Manor, which always pointed north, but a Kompass, a rare magic known only to the Malchain family that always pointed toward the one person or thing it was forged to find. In this particular case, it was Aquila, Anvil’s cousin and the best treasure hunter in all of Arden.
“Once you’ve woken the moontears, follow the Kompass to us,” he said. “Most likely, we will be near the Sorrowful Plains. And remember what I told you.”
Sophie’s hand brushed against the small lump under her tunic’s neckline. “The unicorn?” she asked, and when Anvil nodded she quickly promised, “We won’t tell anyone.”
Throughout their weeklong journey, Anvil had made them repeat that they would not tell anyone how the unicorn had burst from the stone in a blaze of light to heal Sophie from a nearly fatal arrow wound and her illness. But then he had vanished from the Sorrowful Plains, and now Aquila was tracking him, hoping to find the unicorn before someone else did.
Anvil had told them it was the last unicorn.
Unless they could use the moontear necklace to wake more.
Claire’s heart squeezed as Sophie carefully put the Kompass in her cloak pocket. Unicorns had once roamed Arden’s meadows, until they had been hunted to extinction three hundred years ago, during the great war, the Guild War between the four magics. Without unicorns, Arden’s magic was slowly weakening: guild magic could no longer do the wonders of the past, and children were sometimes born without any magic at all.
But worst: ever since the disappearance of the unicorns, dark, shadowy creatures called wraiths had appeared, terrorizing the land. No one knew where the wraiths had come from, but everyone agreed they were a sign that without magic, without unicorns, their world was in great peril.
Magic was weakening. Arden was dying. Claire looked around at the abandoned streets and shivered.
But there was still hope … so long as she didn’t mess anything up.
“Thank you, Anvil,” Sophie said, giving the Forger a quick hug. “We’ll see you soon.”
Anvil’s stern expression softened slightly. “I know you will.”
Sophie moved forward through the eerily quiet streets, up toward the Citadel that loomed above them like a beacon. But Claire hesitated. Her legs felt as sturdy as the moss fringing the abandoned houses. Even though they came here to speak to Gemmers, Claire wasn’t entirely sure that she wanted to.
Hundreds of years ago, the Gemmers grew too powerful and conquered the other guilds. As a result, the others rose against them, and the bloody Guild War ensued. As the tension escalated, the people of Arden began to hunt unicorns, believing the rumor that whoever killed a unicorn would live forever. It wasn’t true, of course, but it was true that any artifact made from a part of a unicorn made guild magic stronger.
The Gemmers—Claire’s family—caused all that. Their ancestor, Queen Estelle, had led the unicorn hunt.
“Claire!” Sophie called, already far enough up the road that she needed to shout. “Are you coming?”
Anvil looked down at Claire, his dark eyes boring into hers a little too knowingly. “Gemmers are stubborn, but their word is always rock-solid once they have given it.”
Claire grimaced. When she’d learned she was a princess, she had promised to help Arden. After all, this magical world had healed her sister from a disease the doctors at the hospital back at home did not even have a name for.
“Just be sure that you and Sophie take care of each other,” Anvil continued, “and everything will be all right.”
“Thank you.” Claire quickly hugged the Forger, not even minding how cold his chain mail was. “Thank you for everything.”
“Now then, go on,” Anvil said gruffly, but Claire was sure she caught him smiling before she ran to catch up with her sister.
Keeping her eyes on Sophie’s bouncing ponytail, she wound her way up through the city. It was hard to believe that Stonehaven had ever been anything more than this abandoned place, but Anvil had told them that Stonehaven had once been their family’s summer palace, the mountain breezes wafting between stone archways were always cool, while the lush blanket of forest on the lower slopes was good for falconry and other … sports.
Unicorn hunts.
Claire lifted her feet over another rock pile. There were many such piles littering the mountainside, and they had probably once been the base of a garden wall or bridge. Now, though, they just looked like forgotten tombstones.
The wind picked up, pulling curls from the tangled knot perched on her head. Strands of hair stuck to her sweaty forehead, making her feel itchy all over. The road up to the Citadel was steep—so steep that it eventually became steps carved into the mountain itself. She paused a moment to catch her breath, and took in the view from this high up.
Starscrape Mountain swept out beneath them, a tapestry of towering pines, softly filtered sunlight, and rushing waterfalls that tumbled from its many ridges. At its base, she imagined she could just make out the edge of the Sorrowful Plains, which from this safe height seemed to be nothing more than a pocketful of shadows.
And beyond that, the rest of Arden unfurled. Though she could not see them, Claire knew that tucked somewhere into this land was a Tiller village with a cage of metal vines and a Forger city filled with ringing metal. Somewhere down there were narrowboats carrying merchants of magical objects and even more magical stories, and underground caverns where wyverns sailed through sapphire-studded tunnels.
And among all those wonders sat an old stone well … and a way back home.
“HEY!” Sophie’s sudden cry echoed down the mountainside.
“Sophie!” Claire looked up the steps, but her sister had already reached the top. So much for following Anvil’s advice. Pumping her legs, Claire took the crumbling steps two at a time until she reached the flat summit—and gasped.
The road wound forward a few feet more, then ended abruptly at the base of a cliff face. No, not a cliff—a wall, one that rose hundreds of feet into the air.
“Can you believe this? There’s no door,” Sophie grumbled to Claire. And there wasn’t—not even a window. In fact, there were no lines at all in the smooth surface. The wall seemed to have been carved from a single piece of stone and was as seamless as an eggshell.
“HEY!” Sophie shouted again, cupping her hands around her mouth. “LET US IN!”
Trying to see whom, exactly, Sophie was yelling at, Claire followed her sister’s gaze up … and up … and up to a ledge high above them. On top of it, a group of people stared back down at them.
Except …
“Those aren’t people,” Claire said, voice awed. “They’re statues.”
There were about twenty of them, a mix of men and women in helmets or crowns, all in robes that fell in stone folds around their feet. Though they were too high up for Claire to see their expressions, she could clearly see the stone swords and maces they held in their hands.
“Maybe we should just try knocking,” Claire suggested, tearing her eyes away from the dizzying wall. She turned slowly to look at her sister. “I don’t know what else—Sophie, why do you have your dagger out?”
“Because,” Sophie said quietly, “I think that statue just moved.”
CHAPTER
2
“What?”
But Claire’s question was immediately answered as a stone knight flexed his fingers … and leaped off the ledge.
In the several long seconds it took the knight to hit the earth, Claire heard a high-pitched scream. It could have been Sophie, or Claire, or both—but it didn’t matter. Either way, the Stone Knight crunched down to the ground behind them, sending pebbles and dust high into the air as his knees bent to absorb the impact.
“Stay away!” Sophie yelled, and Claire felt a pull at her tunic as her sister yanked her back. A second later, Claire felt the solid presence of the wall against her shoulders.
The Stone Knight had trapped them.
Slowly, the knight unfolded from his crouched position, and rose to h
is towering height. His feet were as large as trash cans and each leg was as thick as a telephone pole. He strode toward them, shooting tiny tremors through the earth.
Suddenly, Sophie was in front of Claire, holding out the “just in case” dagger Aquila had loaned them. Her feet were spread shoulder width apart, front foot pointing straight out, back foot pointing sideways. It was the position Claire recognized from a few training sessions with Anvil: En garde. The attack position.
“What are you doing?” Claire yelled. The dagger was just a toothpick compared to the stomping feet.
“Do something!” Sophie shouted back, not tearing her eyes away from the stone giant. “Come on, Claire. Use your magic!”
“I—I don’t know how!” Claire said, struggling to breathe. She thought she might faint.
“You’re a Gemmer!” Sophie yelled. “There are rocks everywhere!”
Flustered, Claire scooped up a handful of pebbles and dirt. Only once before had she done magic on purpose, and then she’d had the help of the Unicorn Harp to strengthen her power. There was no unicorn artifact to help her now. There was no magical hum. The only thing she felt in her bones was fear.
“If you’re not going to do anything, run!” Sophie yelled as she brandished her dagger. “Get away!”
Sophie’s command anchored Claire; she wasn’t going to leave her sister alone again. Not today, not ever.
Winding her arm back, Claire aimed, threw—
—the pebbles clattered down harmlessly, woefully short.
The Stone Knight was upon them.
Claire saw Sophie swing the dagger at the stone leg, sparks flying as the blade scraped rock. The knight paused, as though confused about the tiny thing near its feet making such a big fuss. He gave the nuisance a kick, and the dagger spun through the air as Sophie fell on her side.
With a rumble that sounded like slow-moving thunder, the knight pulled his sword from his scabbard.
“Run!” Sophie yelled again as she scrambled away from the stone foot on all fours. The moontear necklace had slipped out from under her tunic and swung about wildly, throwing light into the air.
The Stone Knight raised his sword into the sky.
“No,” Claire yelled. “Sophie—!”