The Stone Eater (The Magic Eaters Trilogy Book 3)

by Carol Beth Anderson

  “That must be so cool, seeing things in advance!” Joli said.

  Sarza scowled. “Sometimes I pass out or have seizures during my visions. Afterwards, I usually feel sick. It’s not all that great.”

  “Oh.” Sympathy filled Joli’s eyes. “I had no idea. Was it like that for seers in the past too?”

  “I’d ask them if I could, but they’re all dead.”

  “You haven’t read any preday books on seers?” Nora asked.

  “I’ve never even held a preday book.”

  Nora closed her eyes briefly. “Oh—right. Sorry.”

  Sarza returned her attention to her food, once again way too aware of how different she was from all these people. They had no idea what it was like, growing up as the weirdest child in a big, poor family. Nora was nice enough, but she was still a princess. Of course she’d forget that plenty of people didn’t have access to preday books.

  And Sarza wasn’t about to tell them she could barely read. Her visions had distracted her from school, and she’d always been behind her peers. That was one of the reasons she’d been excited to join the army. They didn’t care if it took her half a minute to sound out a long word; they were just glad she could use a knife and ride an orsa.

  Tiam’s voice broke the awkward silence. “We’re glad your gift brought you here.” He turned to the others. “What’s our first step?

  Nora put down her fork. “Hatlin knows one of my father’s former ministers. He wants us to meet with her. He thinks she’ll help us.”

  Tiam frowned. “Because royal ministers are known for being so helpful?”

  “Exactly!” Krey exclaimed. “I don’t trust any of them, and I trust this one less than the rest.”

  “I wouldn’t bring her here if I wasn’t convinced her loyalties had changed,” Hatlin said.

  “Well, if she double-crosses us, I’ve got a nice, deep well we can drop her in,” Tiam said with a feral grin. His words earned him laughter from most of the table and a gentle slap on the arm from his wife.

  Sarza found herself laughing too. I think I like this guy.

  9

  Ulmin wants to see me every day. We agreed we should know each other well if we’re considering marriage. (I hope if I keep writing that word, it’ll start feeling natural. It’s not working yet.)

  We met for a private lunch today at the palace, between his meetings. We laughed so much during that short meal. About halfway through, I started noticing things: the muscles of Ulmin’s arms beneath his rolled-up sleeves. A dimple in his cheek. And his dark eyes—I think I could look in their depths forever.

  It’s like he’s a different person than he was when I first met him. But that was just ten days ago, so I suppose I’m the one that changed.

  -Letter from Ambrel Kaulder to Dani Kaulder

  Dated Centa 26, 180 PD

  Krey woke to the smell of sausage cooking. The night before, they’d all agreed to work at the farm to pay for their room, board, and other necessities. Based on last night’s dinner and the scent of breakfast, he thought they’d gotten the better end of the deal.

  Before long, most of their group sat down to eat. Hatlin was gone, having ridden one of the family’s orsas to Cellerin City well before sunrise. He hoped to connect with Sharai. When the meal ended, Tiam asked Joli to show the newcomers around the farm so they could choose where to work.

  She led them toward a red barn, next to a black-roofed stable—the buildings Sarza had pointed out from afar. It was a gorgeous, mid-summer morning, sunny and warm.

  “Who are the workers in the fields?” Sarza asked.

  “They’re from Cellerin City,” Joli replied. “A few of them ride in on orsas every day, but most live in our bunkhouse.” She pointed across their land to a long, single-story building.

  “It looks like they’re all dressed the same,” Sarza said.

  Krey squinted. Sure enough, they were all in gray pants and white shirts.

  “Their jobs can get messy,” Joli replied, “so we provide them with work clothes.”

  Sarza’s brows rose, and she sounded almost eager. “Do you need a tailor? For sewing and mending the workers’ clothes?”

  Joli stopped, as did the others. “We hire it out to someone in the city. Do you sew?”

  Sarza nodded.

  “I’m sure you could take that job while you’re here! Do you want to head back now and ask my mom? She usually has a stack of things that need to be mended.”

  Without a word, Sarza turned and strode back toward the house. The rest of them kept walking.

  Joli showed them through the barn, where grains and grasses were stored for the animals. The stable next door held several orsas. Nora’s expression had been tight with pain since her breakup the day before. She didn’t look like she’d slept a bit. But when she saw the beasts, a grin overtook her face. She quickly got permission to enter a stall. Once inside, she hugged a dark-gray orsa’s broad neck, burrowing her face into the soft, long hair at its chin. She spoke to the beast in a soothing, high-pitched tone, like she was talking to a baby.

  Krey remembered her having a similar moment with her own orsa, Blue, when Krey had first arrived at the palace. He’d laughed then and nearly did the same now when he heard her croon, “My full name is Ulminora, but you can call me Nora.”

  His chuckle stuck in his chest, stopped by a certain tight warmth. Nora had never lacked passion—whether for bollaberry juice or Ovrun or her nation—but there was something incredibly sweet about her fervor for the animals she loved. She pulled her face out of the orsa’s beard and let go of its neck. Her enthusiastic eyes and smile brightened the dim stable. “May I care for the orsas?”

  Krey didn’t hear Joli’s reply. His entire attention was captured by Nora. Her eager smile. The grace of her tall form as she reached up, gently scratching the short fur between the orsa’s ears. Her round hips that somehow lent a tempting shape to her simple drawstring pants. Her full lips, parted with a smile. Her dark eyes and soft skin. Even the scar on her cheek drew his gaze—a thin, pale line that would forever mark her as brave. Unstoppable.

  By the sky, she was beautiful.

  No. Krey almost said the word aloud. He pulled his eyes away, his mind racing. What was wrong with him? Nora wasn’t beautiful; he would’ve noticed that before now.

  Or would he have? When he’d first met her, all he’d seen was the arrogant princess he was determined to hate. She could’ve been the prettiest girl on Anyari, and he wouldn’t have realized it. Anyway, Zeisha had been at the forefront of his mind. Krey hadn’t had any attraction to spare. Eventually, Nora became a friend. A partner in crime. Not Princess Nora but just plain Nora.

  Except she wasn’t plain. She never had been; he realized that now.

  His gaze drifted back to her. As she talked to Joli, Nora gathered her hair off her face, which shone with a thin layer of sweat. With quick hands, she tied it into a bun using a leather loop made of blue shimshim skin. The movement pulled her shirt up, and the smooth, narrow band of skin at her waist drew Krey’s gaze like a magnet.

  Stop it, he chided himself. He turned his entire body away to look at the orsas on the other side of the stable. . . then swiveled his head to find her again.

  “Sounds good,” Nora said. “Let’s get going so we can see the rest of the farm.” Her gaze shifted to Krey. “What?” she asked.

  “What do you mean, what?” His mouth was suddenly dry.

  “You looked like you wanted to say something.”

  “Oh no, I was just—you know how sometimes you look places, and you don’t realize you’re looking . . .” Heat rushed into his face, and he cursed inwardly, hoping the dimness in the stable covered his embarrassment. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d blushed.

  “Okay.” Nora’s eyes narrowed. Krey would give his left arm to know what she was thinking. But she just turned back toward the stall and murmured her goodbyes to the orsa.

  As they exited, Krey’s entire body filled
with an odd buzz. He couldn’t deny the truth.

  She’s gorgeous.

  His shoulders fell as the immensity of the realization hit him. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?

  The answer, clearly, was to ignore it. Yes, Nora was intelligent and funny and kind and driven and, it turned out, really, horrifyingly pretty . . . but she was still Ulminora Abrios, Cellerin’s future queen. Who’d just gone through a breakup.

  And I’m a brain lyster who can’t be trusted to stay away from my dark fuel. We’ve all seen what happens when that type of person wears a crown. It was one thing for Zeisha to risk her future by trusting me. I’d never ask Nora to risk her nation.

  Krey pushed away any further thoughts of Nora, forcing his attention to their tour. His heartbeat gradually slowed as Joli led them through the grounds, telling them the farm’s history.

  They arrived at a wellhouse. A sizable pump covered the hole in the ground. There was no way to drop Minister Sharai down there if she betrayed them. Damn it, Krey thought, a grin playing with his lips.

  When they’d seen the whole place, he offered to help a hired hand who cared for various grazing animals. Ovrun asked to join the field workers. His face lit up when Joli agreed.

  How could Ovrun be so enthusiastic? Caring for animals all day wouldn’t be the most exciting work, but Krey figured it would beat hoeing and harvesting. At least he could interact with animals. Crops were inexorably dull.

  They returned to the house to report back to Joli’s parents and put on work clothes, which they’d picked up from the dorms. Krey and Ovrun quickly changed and were about to go outside again when someone knocked on the front door. Varia opened it to reveal Hatlin.

  “I’m surprised you rode back during the day,” Krey said. Hatlin was a known member of the New Therroan resistance, and if he was recognized, he could be arrested.

  “I was in a closed carriage.”

  “Who drove?” Krey asked.

  Hatlin stepped aside to reveal someone standing behind him.

  Krey had never stood this close to the woman, but he recognized her in an instant. The former Minister Sharai.

  She was thin and tall, and everything about her spoke of expensive practicality. Her short, straight hair was cut well, her clothes perfectly tailored and free of unnecessary adornments. Painstakingly shaped eyebrows rose a smidge as her light-brown eyes examined Krey. She spoke to him through lips colored with a boring shade of mauve lipstick. “I believe you broke into my office.”

  Krey’s voice was low, but he didn’t try to hide his disgust. “I believe you enslaved my girlfriend.”

  Varia blinked, then managed a smile. “Please, come in.”

  Krey was so tense, he was surprised he could walk normally. He glared at Sharai the whole way to the living room. She’d sat in her comfortable palace office, organizing the magic-eater militia. Should he sit across the room from her to make his distaste abundantly clear, or should he take a spot next to her, letting her know she wouldn’t get away with anything?

  What kind of a question is that? He joined Sharai on the couch, mere simmets between them.

  “I’ll get Nora,” Ovrun said.

  “Sarza should be here too.” Krey didn’t take his eyes off Sharai. “She has good instincts. About people.”

  “I’ll fetch her,” Varia said.

  Krey’s aggressive stare didn’t phase Sharai a bit. She returned it and spoke in a voice as cultured and practical as her garb. “You have good reason not to trust me. However, I saw what the king was becoming before he sent me away. I want him out of the palace as much as you and the princess do.”

  “I doubt that,” Nora said dryly as she and Ovrun entered. Varia and Sarza were behind them.

  Sharai stood. “Good morning, Your Highness.” She performed the royal bow.

  “None of that,” Nora said. She fixed tired eyes on Sharai. “Let’s all sit. I’d love to hear why I should believe anything you say.”

  As the others got settled, Krey propped an elbow on the arm of the sofa. “I’m looking forward to this.”

  Sharai didn’t take her eyes off Nora. “Your Highness, I’ve been—”

  “It’s Nora,” Nora interrupted.

  “I’ve been looking forward to explaining my role in the militia to you. I knew you would want to know why I supported such a horrific experiment.”

  Krey released a loud sigh, rolling his eyes.

  “My niece was one of the militia members,” Sharai said.

  Krey sat up straighter. “What?”

  Attention still on Nora, Sharai said, “At first, I thought lysters were joining the militia willingly. When I learned differently, I spoke to the king, insisting he return the lysters to their homes. He assured me he would. The next day, he told me my niece had been transported to the training grounds in Deroga, and if I didn’t keep my head down and my mouth shut, her family would never see her again.”

  “What’s her name?” Krey asked, his voice hard.

  “Vistmer.”

  “I remember her,” Ovrun said.

  “There aren’t many New Therroan lysters,” Nora said. “I find it hard to believe your niece happens to be one.”

  Sharai remained calm. “Her family lives in Cellerin City. Her mother isn’t New Therroan, and she’s a lyster.”

  “If that’s true,” Krey shot back, “it only gives her daughter a five percent chance of being a magic eater.”

  “Out of nine children, she’s the only lyster.”

  Hatlin spoke up. “I asked around and confirmed as much of this story as I could. I wouldn’t’ve brought her here otherwise. Sharai does have a brother with nine kids. One of them’s named Vistmer. She’s an ash eater, and she’s been gone from home for about a year. Just up and left one day. Her parents heard she was in some apprenticeship program, but she hasn’t contacted them in ten months.”

  “You didn’t tell your brother the truth?” Nora asked, aghast.

  Sharai expelled a short sigh, the first sign of her impatience with all the questioning. “If a group of angry New Therroans traveled to Deroga to pick up my niece, don’t you think the king would find out? I’m not about to put her in danger like that. I told my brother that his daughter was safe.”

  Krey turned to Hatlin. “Why didn’t you tell us this story?”

  Hatlin opened his mouth, but Sharai was the one to speak. “I insisted on telling you myself. I knew the princess would want to see my face to determine if she believed me.” She drew in a deep breath. “When I joined the king’s staff nearly twenty years ago, I hoped to advocate for New Therroans. I worked my way up to the Minister of Lysting position, despite the fact that I am not a lyster. The king seemed to listen to me. He began negotiating with New Therro. Then his wife died, and he grew hard. He stopped negotiating. Eventually, he started this militia, and for the first time, I saw a truly cruel side of him. When he fired me and the rest of the ministers, I knew he’d lost his mind.”

  Nora’s brows furrowed. “Didn’t you suspect he was losing his mind when he started controlling the lysters in the militia?”

  “He didn’t control them directly. It was two other people, a general and The Overseer. I don’t know who they were or how they did it.”

  Krey’s jaw dropped for a moment, before he forced it closed. She doesn’t know Ulmin was the general.

  Nora’s eyes briefly flitted to Krey. He could see the wheels of her brain turning as she considered Sharai’s words. He shook his head, a plea for her to stay quiet.

  She crossed her legs and turned to Sarza. “Any thoughts on whether we should work with Sharai?”

  “I got nothing,” Sarza said.

  Nora addressed Sharai again. “We’d like to work with you, but there’s a whole lot you don’t know. And I’m not ready to share all of it with you. I need to spend more time with you first.”

  “Understandable,” Sharai said.

  “If it’s okay with our hosts, I’d like you to live here with us
.” Nora glanced over at Varia, who nodded with a friendly smile.

  “You want me to stay on a farm?” Sharai blurted.

  Krey shot a broad grin her way. “You’ll have to work too. Earn your keep.”

  “I have a home in Cellerin City—a life there!”

  Nora stood. “Do you want to take my father down or not?”

  Sharai came to her feet. “Of course I do.”

  “Well, if I can live with trogs for months on end, I’m pretty sure you can spend some time around orsas and crops.”

  Sharai’s jaw muscles flexed, and she pressed her lips together. “Very well. I have some things I need to retrieve from my house in the city—”

  “I’m sure Hatlin would be happy to take your carriage and bring back anything you need,” Nora said.

  Krey almost laughed aloud when Sharai’s lips twisted. Sure, she and Hatlin both had New Therroan heritage, but she clearly felt he was beneath her.

  Sharai quickly recovered her professional demeanor. “If possible, I’d like to meet with you alone, Nora.”

  Krey fully expected her to refuse. She’d want him, Ovrun, and Sarza there for any discussions, right? They were all a team.

  But Nora gave a brisk nod. “Very well. We can go to my bedroom.” She led Sharai out of the room.

  Krey shook off the unexpected sense of betrayal and returned his attention to the others in the room. Joli was sitting with her mother, as silent as they’d been during the conversation.

  Hatlin smiled. “Not a likable woman, but I think she’ll help us!”

  Ovrun sat with his arms crossed, like he just wanted to leave—but that seemed to be his default position when he was around Joli or Nora. No wonder he’s so excited to spend all day in the fields.