“We risk,” Jasper interrupted, “allowing lowland spies onto our mountain!”
“You risk,” Sophie said quietly, “a possibility of unicorns.”
A possibility of unicorns. The phrase seemed to hang in the air.
Claire held her breath while Carnelian tapped his fingers along the head of his bejeweled cane. Unlike most canes, this one had a stone handle on it in the shape of a ram’s head. Its curling horns were chiseled to a point just as sharp as Jasper’s spear.
The grandmaster let out a long sigh. “So be it,” Carnelian said. “Scholar Terra, you will begin the girls’—the princesses’—training in the morning. But,” he added, turning to face them, “if anything happens to disprove your tale … we will go with Commander Jasper’s original suggestion. Do you understand?”
Take them outside for the wraiths.
Claire nodded. Yes, she definitely understood. Sophie nodded, too.
Terra stood and looked at Claire. Behind her spectacles, her eyes were now magnified five-fold. Claire felt a thrill of fear as the woman ordered: “Follow me.”
And so they did, stepping back into the strange and glittering halls of the Gemmers’ Citadel, Claire bracing herself for whatever might await them at Stonehaven.
CHAPTER
4
Sunlight streaked in through the diamond-paned windows of Claire and Sophie’s tower bedroom. Or prison, as Sophie insisted on calling it.
Still, it really was a nice prison. The arched ceiling above the two small beds was painted a deep blue and inset with real diamonds that swirled together into some of Arden’s most famous constellations. Their beds, though small, were comfortable, and the wardrobe was filled with plenty of apprentice uniforms that only had a few patches on them. There was even a window seat that gave Claire a sweeping view that she longed to draw.
But even drawing wouldn’t be able to distract her from the tangle of knots in her stomach. After all, it was technically her first day of school … Gemmer school.
And at the end of the day, Terra said that they would run through their first test. But Claire didn’t know what, exactly, the test would be.
“Stop biting your nails!” Sophie ordered. Claire hastily removed her fingers. She hadn’t bitten them since she was a kid, but without her pencil to nibble, the old habit had returned. Turning around, she saw Sophie was still sitting cross-legged on the bed, the contents of a Gemmer pack spilled onto the quilt in front of her: a magnifying glass, tweezers, a small hammer, several chisels, and a glass vial of diamond dust—among several other instruments that Claire guessed would help her release magic from stone. That would, maybe, help her release the unicorns from the moontears.
“Do you think Terra forgot us?” Claire asked. When the scholar had deposited them last night, she’d informed them that they would remain in this room until she came to collect them tomorrow at second chime, shortly after dawn.
But the chimes had already sounded three times, and the sun was now fully up.
“Okay, that’s it,” Sophie said, and rolled off the bed. “We’re not going to be some princesses waiting in a tower. We came to Stonehaven to learn. We came to wake the moontears.” She swept the Gemmer tools back into the rucksack, and strode to the door. “Coming?”
Jasper’s scowl and the glint of spear tips pierced through Claire’s memory. “But Terra said—”
“Suit yourself.” Sophie turned the knob and the door swung open easily. Relief flitted through Claire. Last night, she thought she’d heard the click of the lock as Terra shut the door. Maybe they were actually guests, and not prisoners after all. But her relief vanished along with Sophie.
Even in another world, Sophie was always Sophie—always off on another Experience. Grabbing her own rucksack of Gemmer tools from a hook on the wall, Claire ran after her.
The Citadel’s splendor blossomed around her as she hurried to keep up with her sister. Mosaics of bright stone seemed to gallop across the floors, and colored glass filled many of the windows, splashing color on the walls.
Stonehaven was more than beautiful—it was dazzling. A shot of excitement pulsed through Claire, chasing out her fear. She was going to learn how to make these beautiful things. She was going to learn magic.
“Hey!” a voice shouted from behind them.
“Slug soot,” Sophie muttered, coming to such an abrupt stop that Claire crashed into her.
Both girls turned around.
A boy also in an apprentice uniform ran toward them. He had the most freckles Claire had ever seen. In fact, with his pointy nose and chin, he seemed to be made up entirely of freckles and angles.
“Are you Sophia and Claire?” the boy asked, panting slightly as he reached them. “Sorry, I mean, Princess Sophia and Princess Claire?”
Claire’s neck heated instantly. “Just Claire, actual—”
“Indeed, we are,” Sophie cut in, and Claire rolled her eyes at the accent Sophie suddenly had. “And you are?”
“Geode.” The boy smiled, his freckles bunching up. “Terra says she’s sorry she couldn’t get you earlier. The west wing is about to fall off the mountain, and the grandmaster needed her help.”
Fall off the mountain.
When they’d first seen the Citadel above the rubble and neglect of Stonehaven, she had wondered if it was somehow held together by magic, and here, she guessed, was her answer. But magic was slipping away from Arden, and if it disappeared entirely … would the rest of Stonehaven slip away with it?
Her nerves came clanging back down around her. So much rested on waking the moontears.
“Here,” Geode said, seeming not to realize how extraordinary his statement was. “You missed breakfast, so I brought you some crescents.” He produced two steaming pastries from his own Gemmer bag, and as Claire bit in, she realized it was stuffed with tangy cheese.
“You can eat on the way,” Geode said as he resumed walking. “We’re late for S.A.S.”
“Late ferr vhat?” Sophie said, her regal act forgotten as she stuffed the rest of the crescent into her mouth.
“S.A.S.,” Geode repeated, and picked up the pace, “stands for Slings, Arrows, and Spears. This way, please.”
Claire almost choked on her final bit of crescent. Arrows were cool, of course they were, but she would have preferred if her first lesson with magic started off with something a little less … deadly.
“Arrows!” Sophie whooped. “What an Experience!”
As they hurried through Stonehaven, Claire noticed that many passageways had been blocked by signs: “Forbidden!” “Danger!” and “Hallway-In.”
“Hallway-in?” Claire asked, panting slightly. “What’s that?”
“Like a cave-in, but a hall,” Geode explained.
“And that? What’s that mean?” Sophie asked, pointing to a sign that simply read, “Goats!”
“That’s where the goats sleep,” Geode said, and at their puzzled expressions, he explained, “With so few Gemmers, it’s hard to keep up the village. Years ago, Grandmaster Carnelian decided everyone—animals included—would move into the Citadel to try to preserve it. Everything else, we just had to let go.”
Had to let go.
That explained the neglected tombstone houses outside the wall of the Citadel. For a moment, Claire was filled with sadness for the Gemmers. She could only imagine what Stonehaven must have been like when magic flourished and the unicorns still lived. When it was a whole thriving city instead of just one palace above a pile of ruins.
“There’s just not enough of us anymore,” Geode continued as he turned down another chandelier-lit corridor. “If magic were stronger, or if the lower guilds would lend us a unicorn artifact, maybe things would be different, but for now, the goats are kept in what once would have been the king’s chambers. In here!”
They had followed him into a small room lined with weapons. Slingshots dangled from hooks in the wall, while flint spears stuck out of barrels like strange bouquets. Hammerheads chiseled
from rock lay across a table, along with a series of walking sticks that each had a large marble orb attached to the top. And in the corner, a cannon carved in the shape of a gargoyle loomed from the shadows.
Unease wriggled through Claire. The Gemmers, for how few they were, were very well armed. She wondered how old some of the stone weapons were. She wondered if any of them had been used in a unicorn hunt. And she wondered how learning to shoot an arrow would help wake the moontears.
“Take these,” Geode said, holding out two bows toward them. Sophie snatched the bigger one, while Claire took the smaller. She didn’t know a thing about bows, but it was pretty, made of a dark polished wood with soft leather straps wrapped around the grip. It was heavier than the only other bow she’d ever held, the one Mom had made for her from a bent coat hanger and yarn when she was a Merry Man in the fourth graders’ production of Robin Hood.
“Usually, you only shoot the arrowheads you carve yourself,” Geode said as he handed them each a quiver full of arrows. “But since we’ve missed that part of class, you can borrow these.”
“Thank you,” Claire said, and she meant it, even though the arrows in her hand looked as sharp as crocodile teeth. It was nice that he was so helpful. When she’d accidentally joined the Forger academy for class, they hadn’t been nearly so welcoming.
“So what’s your plan?” Claire whispered to Sophie as they followed Geode to the back door.
Sophie’s eyebrows shot up in an umbrella of surprise. “Whatever do you mean?”
Claire rolled her eyes. That wasn’t going to work—not on her. “We don’t even know if you’re a Gemmer. How are you going to get through magic class?”
“Maybe I’m just not a Gemmer yet,” Sophie said with a shrug. “Maybe I just need training to jog it loose, or something.”
Claire frowned. Anvil Malchain had seemed pretty certain that Sophie was not a Gemmer, but Sophie clearly hadn’t given up hope. An old worry yawned within Claire, stirring awake at Sophie’s words. Did Sophie want to be a Gemmer so badly because she didn’t think Claire could handle the pressure of waking the moontears on her own?
And was she right?
But there was no more time to think about it, because they had entered the training courtyard. A handful of children in the same garb as Claire and Sophie stood in an archer’s stance, facing a line of targets on the far end of the pebble-filled courtyard.
“Elbow higher, Zuli!” the instructor barked, and Claire gripped her bow harder. Her first instructor in magic was going to be none other than the glowering Commander Jasper.
“Lapis, stop squinting,” Jasper said to the next apprentice. “How can you expect to see a wraith with your eyes practically closed?”
“Commander!” Geode called. “We’re here.”
Jasper turned, and his already stormy expression darkened further as Claire and Sophie stepped forward.
“What are the princesses doing here?” Jasper said, and by the tone of his voice, Claire knew he thought they were just as royal as bird droppings. “They’re supposed to be with Terra—”
“Scholar Terra is working on the west wing,” Geode quickly explained.
“And she told them to come here first?”
When Claire and Sophie nodded, the furrows of Jasper’s brow were so deep that they looked like fault lines. “Join the others, then. AND WHO SAID YOU COULD STOP TO RELAX?”
Claire jumped. She hadn’t realized how silent the courtyard had become at their arrival, but at Jasper’s bellow, the apprentices tore their eyes away from them and quickly drew back their bowstrings.
Sophie and Claire slipped into line next to a boy and girl who shared the same corkscrew curls, pointed chin, and dimpled cheeks, so Claire knew they must be brother and sister, if not twins. Stealing a glance at the other apprentices, Claire tried to mimic the easy way they gripped the string and pulled back. But her pretty wooden bow was stiff, and didn’t seem to want to bend.
It looked so easy in the movies! But Claire could barely get it back one inch. Sophie, meanwhile, had pulled hers taut with ease, and looked as smug as their friend Nettle Green in a trivia contest.
“Pull harder,” Sophie urged. “Come on, Claire.”
Claire gritted her teeth and wondered how the bow could possibly be magic when it seemed to be only clunky and awkward in her hands. The bow budged an inch. She could feel sweat beading on her forehead as she tried to hold her position. Chills broke over her as a cool mountain breeze played between the apprentices. After a few more minutes of stance correcting, Jasper called on Geode to release the first arrow of the morning.
Thwack!
Cheers filled the courtyard as the arrow hit the target, but Claire suddenly felt sick. She glanced at Sophie to see her sister, too, looked ill, and was rubbing a spot under her collarbone, directly above her heart. The same place where an arrow had pierced her only a few weeks ago. The same place where a unicorn’s horn had left a pink star-shaped scar.
“Pay attention, Princess!”
Claire tore her eyes away from Sophie only to realize that Jasper was standing beside her. All around, the apprentices snickered.
“I’m s-sorry,” Claire stuttered. “What did you say?”
Jasper scowled. “Well then, it seems like you think you know everything already if you’re not bothering to pay attention. Go ahead, notch your bow.”
Claire’s mouth went dry. “But I don’t kn—”
“Now.”
CHAPTER
5
Fingers trembling, Claire selected an arrow from the quiver and fit it to the string, nearly dropping her bow in the process. This time, with the arrow notched, the bow bent easily. Claire let out a shaky breath.
“We don’t have all day,” Jasper called. “Fire!”
Taking a deep breath, Claire aimed, then released.
Cold wind suddenly rushed into Claire’s face and her hair snapped back as the entire world whooshed past her in a colorful swirl.
“HELP!” Claire yelled as the arrow—still attached to her fingers—dragged her across the courtyard as easily as Dad used to pull her across the ice skating rink.
“Let go!” someone cried.
“I CAN’T!” she screeched as her feet skidded against the cobblestones. She told her fingers to let go, but for some reason they wouldn’t—or couldn’t. She was wildly out of control, her teeth rattling.
Thump!
Her breath slammed out of her lungs as she hit the straw target. She fell back hard on the ground … the arrow still attached to her palm. She flapped her hand, trying to shake the arrow off, but it clung to her fingertips, as if glued.
“Claire! ” There was a crunch of gravel as Sophie ran across the courtyard to her. “Are you all right?”
“Foolish girl!” Jasper said as he stormed over, the rest of the apprentices following in his angry wake. “Just because you think you are a princess does not mean you are entitled to a Lode Arrow!”
“A what?” Claire asked, tears prickling her eyes. Even though she was no longer being dragged, the world still seemed to be moving too fast for her to catch up.
“A Lode Arrow,” Jasper repeated. “That arrowhead has been carved from lodestone, which, when properly shaped, becomes highly magnetic, clinging to the iron in human blood to allow a trained Gemmer to travel far distances quickly.”
“You did this on purpose!” Sophie exclaimed, whirling away from Claire to yell at Geode, who stood near the back of the group. But his smile, which had at first seemed so friendly, was now not so much a smile as it was a smirk.
“I don’t know what they’re talking about, Commander,” Geode said. “The princesses insisted on choosing the rarest arrow, saying that they deserved it.”
Something hot flashed in Claire’s stomach. Geode—he’d set them up! He’d given her these arrows. Her mind raced to their meeting this morning. Claire would have bet an entire sack of crescent pastries that Terra had no idea they were here at S.A.S. class at all. An
ger, bright and scalding, flooded her. He tricked them!
“That’s not true!” Claire said. “You’re lying!”
There was a gasp from the watching apprentices as Claire, forgetting the arrow was still attached to her hand, jabbed an accusatory point at him.
“Put your hand down, girl,” Jasper snapped, and she did—instantly. Reaching into his pocket, the commander removed a large black rock and held it up to Claire’s hand. There was a slight hum in the air, and then a clink as the arrowhead disconnected from Claire’s hand and attached itself to the stone in the same way Claire had seen Mom use a magnet to pick up sewing pins off the floor.
The watching apprentices broke into scattered applause. Claire opened and closed her fingers, breathing with relief as her hand finally obeyed.
“Hey,” Sophie said, crossing her arms and glaring at Jasper. “Aren’t you going to punish Geode?”
“Geode, as far as I know, has not been lying to Stonehaven,” Jasper said. “While you, on the other hand, neglected to mention something to the grandmaster last night. You,” he pointed at Sophie, “are clearly not a Gemmer. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, you have no magic at all.”
Sophie’s mouth gaped open.
Jasper ignored her stupefied expression. “The particular Lode Arrows in your quivers are crafted to work only for Gemmers. I would know. I made them myself. If you were a Gemmer, it would have dragged you across the courtyard, too, by now.”
“Is he saying she’s a lackie?” an apprentice whispered quietly, but someone hushed him.
“S.A.S. is complete for the day. I expect all of you to return your practice weapons to the armory and proceed quietly to Scholar Pumus’s workroom. If I hear that one of you so much as puts a toe out of line, I will assign all of you the dawn watch for a month.”
The apprentices quickly scattered, scooping up forgotten arrows and returning them to the armory. Claire hefted her Gemmer pack, then looked around for Sophie in the mayhem. She already had her Gemmer pack on and was sidling out the door with the other apprentices.
A spear suddenly appeared in Sophie’s path. “And where do you think you’re going?” Jasper asked. “You and I have an appointment with Grandmaster Carnelian. Hand over your Gemmer pack, please.”
Secret in the Stone Page 3