by Hylton, PT
The rock in the man’s hand began to quiver a bit faster. “Ugly?”
“Yeah, like your face!” Olaf shouted.
Syd shot him a look. “Stop helping.”
The blond Stone Shaper nodded toward Dahlia. “Perhaps we need to continue this discussion on dry land. Proceed to the docks, and the captain, the Storm Caller, and the Queen of Storms will accompany us to have a discussion with our chief.”
“Now hold on—” Syd began.
“That wasn’t a request. If you fail to comply, we will destroy the hull of your vessel and you will sink.”
With that, the men climbed back over the rail onto their pillars of stone.
“Well,” Syd said, “it looks like we’re going ashore.”
Chapter Five
“Abbey, Dustin, Benjamin, you’re coming with me.” Syd kept her eyes on the pillars of stone that kept pace with them as they sailed toward the dock.
“You sure about that?” Abbey asked. “They said just you and Dustin.”
“If they think I’m not bringing my magic users to this meeting, they’re crazy.”
“I’m a magic user too, now,” Olaf said, his voice hopeful.
Abbey raised an eyebrow. “Take it easy. You’ve had one lesson.” She turned to Syd. “What about Viktor and his three friends? They’re magic users.”
“No. I don’t know them well enough yet. Just the four of us.” Syd sounded distracted as she spoke.
As the ship neared the dock, Syd asked Dustin, Benjamin, and Abbey to come close. She spoke to them softly.
“Job number one is finding a way to get Elliot back. Let’s keep our focus on that, no matter what.” She cocked her thumb back toward Dahlia. “Job two is we make sure we don’t leave this sea-forsaken country with her alive. She thinks she’s pulled a fast one on us. She hasn’t. We knew something like this was coming. If we take her inside that city, we’ll never leave with her. She’s staying aboard. Abbey, take care of the arrangements.”
“Aye, Captain.” Abbey marched across the deck and grabbed Dahlia by the arm. “Olaf! Clemens! Fannar!” Without waiting for a response, she pulled Dahlia toward the ladder that led belowdecks.
“What are you doing?” Dahlia hissed.
“It’s nighty-night time again, Queen of Storms.”
Dahlia’s eyes widened. “Didn’t you hear them? They want me brought ashore!”
“Yeah, well, they’re not the boss of me. Watch your head as you go down.”
Dahlia tried to stop but Abbey shoved her forward, so her only options were to climb down the ladder or fall. “Stone Shapers don’t mess around. They’ll sink the ship if you don’t listen to them.”
“I’m thinking they won’t. Not with you aboard. And if they do, stormship sailors can swim. You’ll be sleeping so deeply you’ll wake up in the afterlife.”
She led Dahlia to the mat where she’d spent her voyage and shoved her down onto it. Then she got out the potion and poured a cup.
Olaf, Fannar, and Clemens had joined them now.
She addressed them as she forced Dahlia to drink. “You three are in charge of Dahlia while we’re on shore. She should be asleep soon, but in the meantime, don’t listen to anything she says. I trust you guys. You can do this.”
“What, watch a sleeping woman?” Olaf asked. “Yeah, I think we can handle that job, Abbey.” From his tone of voice, it was clear he was still annoyed at not being invited to the meeting with the Stone Shapers.
Abbey remembered something Dustin had said before they left the Farrows. “Don’t underestimate her. You could fill a graveyard with the people who have.”
Dahlia looked up at Abbey, her eyes wide. “Take me with you to the meeting. I’ve had dealings with the Stone Shapers. You don’t know their ways. Their customs.”
“This really isn’t going like you’d thought it would, is it?” Abbey shook her head. “What I said the other day still applies. If you try anything, you’ll lose your hands. I’ll see you when I get back, Your Majesty.”
With that, Abbey headed topside.
As soon as they had docked and lowered the gangplank, Syd led them off the ship. The two men who’d been on the pillars stepped onto the dock next to them, leaving their shrunken pillars on either side of The Foggy Day.
“Where is the Queen of Storms?” the blond one asked.
It took a concerted effort for Abbey not to roll her eyes. This Queen-of-Storms thing was going to get old fast.
“Her Majesty is staying aboard,” Syd said, looking the blond Stone Shaper in the eye. When he started to respond, she held up a hand. “That’s non-negotiable.”
The other Stone Shaper spoke for the first time. “Our method of negotiation is different than yours.” He held his hand up, displaying the round stone in his hand. It quivered, as if it wanted to leap up at them. “Most outsiders don’t find it very pleasant.”
Abbey knew it wasn’t her place to speak, but she couldn’t help herself. “It’s funny. Every new place we go, the people think they’re bigger badasses than the outsiders. Yet we’re always the ones who end up walking away at the end of the fight.”
The blond Stone Shaper smiled. “Perhaps you should try not fighting everyone you meet.”
Dustin smirked. “We do try. Hasn’t worked out so far.”
The shorter Stone Shaper glared at Abbey.
She wondered what the deal was with the way they held out the stones. Was it supposed to be threatening? Did they make the stones fly at their opponents? She wished she knew more about how their magic worked.
With the way this was going, she’d probably find out sooner rather than later.
The blond man sighed. “Very well, we’ll proceed without the Queen of Storms. Though I warn you, it will put Magnus in a foul mood when he learns we left her behind.”
“What, not all Stone Shapers are the gregarious party animals you two are?” Abbey asked.
Syd shot her a look.
“Enough talking. Follow.” With that, the tall man turned and started walking toward the center of town.
Syd, Dustin, Benjamin, and Abbey followed, with the shorter Stone Shaper trailing them closely.
As they walked, Abbey nudged her father and spoke to him in a low voice. “Notice the buildings?”
“Hard to miss,” Benjamin said.
Every building they passed was made of stone. Not stones stacked and held together with mortar, but solid rock. It was as if the homes had occurred naturally, each made from a single stone worn by nature into highly unlikely shapes.
There was no consistent architectural style, either. Some houses were perfect rectangles, orderly in their design. Others looked like drawings sketched by a child and somehow brought to life. One house leaned at such an angle that it was a gravity-defying wonder it didn’t topple over.
The shorter Stone Shaper must have seen them staring, because he addressed the matter. “Most residents of Ammaas design and shape their own homes. It’s an expression of their family’s philosophy. A reflection of their personalities, if you will.”
Ammaas. That must be the name of the city, Abbey realized.
She nodded toward the leaning home. “I’d hate to meet the person who created that one.”
“Wait.” Benjamin turned toward the man. “Are you saying every person in this city is a Stone Shaper?”
“Not everyone. Most children under ten have not yet mastered the Way of the Stone. But for everyone older, it’s a requirement.”
“Wonderful,” Benjamin muttered darkly.
They made their way through the winding streets of the city. She lost track of the number of times they turned and seemed to double back, only to find themselves heading down a new street. It seemed to Abbey this place hadn’t been designed; more like it had grown organically.
Or it had been shaped.
She came to the realization that she wouldn’t be able to find her way back to The Foggy Day if she needed to. Not without flying above the oddly deformed bui
ldings for a birds’ eye view, anyway. And she intended to keep that ability secret for as long as she could.
The blond man stopped in front of a large stone hill at what seemed to be the edge of the city.
No, not a hill, Abbey thought. It was a building, perfectly crafted to blend into the natural setting behind it. It was a truly impressive design.
The blond man turned to them and smiled. “We have arrived. Welcome to the home of Magnus, Chief of the Stone Shapers.”
* * *
The blond man led them through a large archway into the building. They entered a labyrinthine series of featureless hallways, with nothing adorning the stone walls, floor, or ceiling. The effect was disorienting. After they’d been walking for five minutes, Abbey had an irrational but alarming notion that they were actually walking on the ceiling and looking up at the floor.
“I must apologize for the lack of luxury,” the blond Stone Shaper said over his shoulder as he led them through the maze. “I know this is not the decor you would expect in the home of an important leader on your shores.”
“Yeah, Holdgate is a real fancy town,” Abbey said. “If you’re going to show up with a hair out of place, don’t bother showing up at all.”
The blond man paused before answering. “I believe that was sarcasm. Holdgate isn’t known for luxury?
“My mother blew her nose with the same rag she used to take bread out of the oven,” Syd offered.
Abbey stifled a laugh.
“Yes, well, that is different than I’d heard. From the proper way the Queen of Storms carries herself, I’d assumed Holdgate to be more civilized. I suppose Dahlia is a cut above the rest of her city.”
This time Abbey didn’t bother hiding her laugh.
The blond man ignored it. “In truth, most in Gren like the finer things in life. But Magnus is a bit...cautious. He wanted to make sure that if enemies wandered in here, they wouldn’t be able to find him.”
“Does he have many enemies?” Benjamin asked.
“Do you know a man of his stature who doesn’t?” He stopped and faced the wall at his right. “Ah, here we are.”
The wall seemed no different to Abbey than any of the dozens of identical walls they’d passed on their trek through the passageways, but clearly the blond man could see something she couldn’t.
“This will take a moment.” He placed his left hand against the wall and drew a deep breath, and his eyes turned black. He moved his right hand in a complicated pattern that was impossible for Abbey to follow.
A soft rumbling sound filled the hall as he used his magic on the wall. In a few seconds, a tiny hole the size of a pinprick appeared in the center and quickly began to expand.
In less than a minute, it was a full-sized archway.
Abbey and Dustin exchanged glances. They were still taking the measure of what exactly these Stone Shapers could do and how far their abilities went, but it was clear these guys weren’t messing around.
The blond man took his hand away from the wall, and the darkness in his eyes faded. He turned to Syd.
“We are entering the presence of Magnus, Chief of the Stone Shapers. You will walk one step behind me, with your crew following close behind you. You will remain silent until he addresses you. If you show disrespect, Magnus will bring the building down on your heads. He does not suffer fools, so you will refrain from sarcasm.”
“Sounds like a fun guy,” Abbey remarked.
The blond man shot her a glare.
“Sorry. That was the last one.”
He drew a deep breath and turned toward the archway. “Are we ready?”
“Ready.” Syd paused. “I just realized that we don’t even know your name.”
“Nor do you need to.” With that, the blond man marched through the archway.
Syd followed, Abbey and the others close on her heels.
Stepping through the archway was like stepping into another building. Where the hallways had been plain, this room was ornate. While the hallways had been cramped, this room was large and open. And while the hallways had been empty but for their small group, this room was filled with dozens of people.
Everyone had lined up and was looking toward a man in a chair at the front of the room.
No, not a chair, Abbey realized. A throne.
They were in an audience chamber.
Rather formless statues lined the walls, each with a man or woman standing next to it. As Abbey and her friends walked into the room, each person touched a statue, and the statues changed.
Each one now perfectly depicted one of the members of their party. Abbey almost tripped as she saw the statue of her, wearing the same outfit she was, in mid-stride.
This place was damn creepy.
The blond man marched up the center of the room, stopped in front of the throne, and bowed deeply.
The man on the throne was smaller than Abbey had expected, and older. He wore a long mustache that hung well below his chin. Looking at his thin arms, Abbey was fairly certain she could beat him in a fist fight—assuming no rocks were lying nearby.
The man cleared his throat loudly and glared at the blond man. “Who are these people, Edvard? Explain yourself.”
The blond man—Edvard, apparently—bowed again. “At once, My Chief.”
He went on to explain the circumstances surrounding The Foggy Day’s arrival in Ammaas’ harbor. He told of the return of the Queen of Storms, and of Syd’s refusal to bring her ashore with the group.
Chief Magnus grunted thoughtfully at the end of the tale, and his subjects murmured, echoing their leader’s show of concern.
He turned to Syd. “You’re the captain of this ship?”
Syd took a step forward and held her head high. “I am.”
“Tell me what you’re doing in Ammaas and why you’re holding the Queen of Storms. Don’t waste my time, girl.”
Syd bristled. “We are here to discuss a man we believe is imprisoned in your mines. Dahlia was detained on our ship because she is our prisoner. And I am not a girl. I am a woman, a warrior, and captain of the stormship The Foggy Day. You may not be aware, but this is a position that demands respect, and you will give it to me. I will address you as Chief Magnus, and you will address me as Captain Syd.”
Another murmur ran through the room.
Magnus sat up a bit straighter in his throne. His eyes were like ice.
Abbey leaned over to Dustin and whispered in his ear. “This is going well.”
“Captain Syd, then.” Magnus opened his hand, holding it palm up, revealing a large, round stone. “Tell me, Captain, what’s to stop me from driving this stone through your skull.”
“Nothing,” Syd answered immediately. “Just know that if I die, the Queen of Storms dies too.”
Magnus scowled. “You think we value her life that highly? I’m grateful to her for her assistance in a matter some years ago, but not so grateful that I’m willing to eat the shit you’re shoveling simply to keep her alive. You say you’re here about a prisoner? What’s his name?”
“Elliot.”
Magnus looked to a man at the edge of the room. The man opened a large book and quickly paged through it. When he found what he was looking for, he nodded to the chief.
“We have your prisoner in our mines,” Magnus confirmed. “It would appear he’s still alive. Last we checked, anyway. The question is, what are you willing to pay to retrieve him?”
“Chief Magnus, Elliot was brought here against his will,” Syd replied. “Whatever crimes he committed were because he was forced to do so. Let him go with us, and you’ll never hear from us again. Releasing him is the just decision.”
Magnus waved the thought away. “What do I care about justice? Here in Gren, we believe in concrete things. Like stone. And favors.” He leaned forward, and the hint of a smile played on his lips for the first time. “Captain Syd, if you and your friends will help me with a small problem, I will release this man from the mines and send him with you back to Holdga
te.”
Syd’s eyes sparkled with fierce determination. “Name it.”
Chapter Six
“She’s definitely asleep,” Clemens said, poking Dahlia with his foot. “I mean, she’s freaking snoring.”
Olaf looked skeptical. “What do people pretending to be asleep always do? They pretend to snore.”
They were belowdecks, standing around Dahlia’s mat, prepared for any threat to Dahlia or from her.
Fannar gestured toward the benches along the hull. “We’re going to be down here a while. Might as well settle in.”
They spread out on the benches, careful to make sure they could see both Dahlia and the ladder leading to the deck at all times.
“So,” Clemens said, “any predictions as to what damn fool mess Syd, Abbey, and Dustin will get us into next?”
Fannar chuckled. “This isn’t bad enough? We’re trapped in the harbor of people who can shape stone with magic and who love our greatest enemy.”
“In my experience traveling with Abbey and Dustin, it can always get worse.”
“And probably will,” Olaf added.
They sat quietly for a few minutes, the groans and slaps of the ocean against the vessel and the soft purr of Dahlia’s snoring the only sounds.
After a while, Olaf nodded toward Fannar. “So what’s your story, Barskall?”
Fannar chuckled. “We’ve been through a lot together, Olaf. You’re only asking me that now?”
“What I mean is, why’d you agree to this mission? You were out to free your village from the tyranny of King Elias and Dahlia, right? That’s done and done.”
Fannar thought a moment before answering. “Two reasons. Magic and hope.”
“You’re going to have to explain that,” Clemens said.
“All my life, I’ve seen magic as something other people did. People far away. Bad people. It was just another way for the powerful to lord it over the weak. But then I saw Abbey floating through the air at the stormcalling school, using magic to help us fight a great number of enemies. I saw Dustin stormcalling at the battle in the Farrows. And I thought to myself, Fannar, perhaps not everyone who has power uses it for their own gain. That made me rethink magic, and it gave me hope. I wanted to see what else I could learn by spending time with these people.”
