The Stone Eater (The Magic Eaters Trilogy Book 3)

by Carol Beth Anderson

  “Thanks.”

  She paused. Krey was at the desk in the corner of the room, dicing up feathers. Eira had let him borrow a few carefully wrapped books from the library in Deroga. When Nora had told Sharai about their reading sessions, the woman had rolled her eyes. “The information’s too dated,” she’d said. “It’s a waste of time.”

  But standing in this doorway, Nora was overwhelmed with a craving for crisp pages and soft leather—and maybe for time with a friend, though she knew that was a weakness she shouldn’t indulge. “Krey?”

  He looked up. “Yeah?”

  “We’ve got about an hour before dinner. Do you want to read?”

  His brows leapt up in a way that made him look like a kid. “Sure! Come on in!”

  Ovrun stepped to the side, letting Nora enter the bedroom. He grabbed clean clothes and exited.

  Krey put away his feathers, then brought a leather-wrapped bundle to the desk. He pulled up an extra chair but didn’t sit as he unwrapped the books, grinning. “I’ve been dying to get back to these.” He looked up, and his smile faltered. “Your eyes are all red and swollen.”

  Nora looked away. “You’re always so tactful.”

  She expected teasing in response, but Krey’s voice was gentle. “I know it’s hard, and I won’t insult you by asking if you’re okay. I’m sorry you’re not.”

  She lifted her gaze to his. “Tell me it gets easier.”

  He swallowed and sat. “I still miss Zeisha. But yeah. It’s been well over three months. It’s a hell of a lot easier.” His eyes searched her face, then shifted away, fixing on the books in front of them.

  Nora picked up a volume. “I’ve been looking forward to getting back to these too.” She closed her eyes, holding the book to her nose and breathing in the old, comforting scent. Her fingertips glided across the soft binding.

  “Feels like we’re back in that trog library, right?” Krey’s voice was almost reverent.

  Warmth filled Nora. Krey was right; the books brought back the comforting thrill she’d gotten every time they’d been in the basement library. She’d loved the hours they’d spent there together. And just now, when he’d said it would get easier . . . for the first time today, she hadn’t felt alone. Part of her wanted to marinate in that sensation of belonging, but she couldn’t. Rulers don’t have friends. They have subjects.

  Time to focus on what mattered. These texts might hold the key to bringing down her father. “We don’t have long. Let’s get started.” She glanced up.

  Krey was watching her, an intense, unreadable look in his eyes. But she didn’t have more than a half second to wonder at his expression. He shifted his gaze to his book, mumbling something unintelligible.

  For nearly an hour, they didn’t say a word. Nora lost herself in the books, which proved a better distraction from her grief than orsas and Sharai had been. She’d just looked up at the clock on the wall, noting that dinner would start soon, when Krey spoke.

  “I know we’ve talked a lot about how different war was in preday times.”

  “Yeah, I was just reading about how to supply an army of half a million soldiers. We’ll never need that information.” Nora stretched her arms high above her head.

  Krey’s indecipherable gaze remained on her for a couple of seconds before he dropped it to his book. “Exactly.” He cleared his throat. “But there’s one thing I’ve read over and over. I don’t know why it didn’t sink in until now.”

  “What?”

  He read from the book he’d chosen. “ ‘Short-term victories can be gained quite easily with skilled forces, strategy, and a bit of luck. In the long term, however, power can only be held through coalitions.’ ” He returned his eyes to Nora. “We might be able to bring down your father without a big army. But what then? Remember what Sarza said on the day of the battle for Deroga? When she told you not to take your father’s crown?”

  Nora nodded. “She said Cellerin wasn’t ready to accept me as their leader.”

  “Right. They weren’t ready then. And they probably aren’t now. But if we can pull together a large coalition of people who support you, we can change that.”

  His confidence sent Nora’s heart racing. This was why she needed Krey on her side. He had a head for strategy and could see the big picture instead of getting mired in details. She gave him an excited grin. “This fits perfectly with what Sharai and I have been talking about!”

  Krey’s jaw tightened. “I literally couldn’t care less what that woman says.”

  “Well, you should care, because she’s thinking the same thing you are. She hasn’t mentioned a large coalition like you’re talking about”—she noted Krey’s satisfied smirk—“but she’s been telling me to ally with people who feel like it’s in their best interest to support me. So who should we start with?”

  He shifted in his seat to face her, leaning forward. “We’ve made a good start with Joli’s family. Her father despises the king. With Hatlin on our side, maybe we can bring in more New Therroans who live in Cellerin City. Plus, if there’s any way to contact the rebels who live in New Therro, they might help.”

  Nora leaned in too. “What about the militia? They have great motivation to fight my father.”

  “I’ve always hoped they’d join us,” Krey said. “But it’s hard to plan anything involving them when they’re in Deroga, and there’s no room for them to stay here. Maybe we’ll find a way to work with them, but we have to think bigger than a militia and some New Therroan dissidents. People all over Cellerin need to support you before you take the crown.” Krey looked at the clock. “It’s dinnertime. Let’s discuss it with Tiam and Hatlin, see if they have any ideas.”

  “And Sharai,” Nora said.

  “Nora—”

  “She’s giving me solid advice, Krey. And you heard her story about her niece. I’m not saying we should tell her everything; I don’t know her well enough to trust her fully. But I have a good feeling about her.”

  Krey raised an eyebrow and sighed. “I don’t trust her even a little, but I do trust you. Do whatever you think is best, just be smart about it.”

  “I usually am,” she said, arching a brow to mirror his.

  “You are.”

  Nora waited for him to amend his statement with a sarcastic quip, but he just fixed his eyes on hers and asked, “You okay?”

  Grief tightened her chest again. “I am. Or I will be, eventually.”

  He nodded. “You will. Let’s go to dinner.”

  Working on the farm all day had been exhausting, but reading and talking with Nora had renewed Krey’s energy. His stomach growled as he sat at the dining table. Varia had told them that dinner at the farm was usually late. Tiam often didn’t finish his rounds until after dark. The burly farmer took his place at the head of the large table, and they all filled their plates with salad; fork-tender meat covered in gravy; and warm, brown bread speckled with crunchy seeds.

  Krey’s eyes shifted to Ovrun. His plate was full, but he wasn’t touching his food. The former royal guard glanced at Nora, then away from her, pressing his lips together and looking at his hands.

  When they’d all been eating for a few minutes, Nora put down her fork and addressed the farmer at the head of the table. “I have a question for you, Tiam. You haven’t hidden your feelings about the king. We all share them to some extent—though I’ll admit, mine are probably more mixed than anyone else’s. But I’d like to know why you feel so strongly.”

  “Happy to tell you.” Everyone at the table was listening, but Tiam spoke directly to Nora. “My family’s farmed this land for generations. Since long before your great-grandmother became queen. I remember my grandmother telling me how scared they were to have a monarch. But it didn’t take long for Onna to prove herself to us. The previous government had gotten bloated. Expensive to run. She changed all that, even lowered our taxes. Your father was the same. Until . . .” He pressed his lips together in a little frown, and Krey knew what Tiam would say. “Until
your mother died.”

  Krey’s gaze darted to Nora. She was nodding slowly, eyes still fixed on Tiam. “What changed?”

  “Before that, he cared about farmers. He’d travel around and meet with us. He made sure the roads and canals were in good repair and that our pumps were working. When the queen passed, we didn’t see much of Ulmin for a while. Then he started coming around again, and he was friendly as ever. Only he didn’t keep as many of his promises. Sometimes we had to pay to repair our canals, even though the government’s supposed to do that. Then taxes started creeping up. My farm, it’s big enough, and our ground has always been fertile. We do okay, even when it’s tight. But a lot of my good friends, people with smaller farms . . .”

  “They’ve suffered,” Nora said.

  “They have. And I understand what it is to lose someone, I do. But, well . . . it’s been eleven years. When you get disappointed by a leader day after day, year after year, when you see your friends selling their farms because they can’t afford to stay there, well, you get angry.”

  “I’m sorry,” Nora said. “I should’ve seen all that, and I just—”

  “Why should you have seen it? I told you, he’s friendly as ever. I’m sure that’s the only side of him you ever saw. You’re barely more than a kid; I wouldn’t expect you to know the ins and outs of how your father is ruling.”

  “I didn’t see any of that either,” Sharai said. “I was busy organizing lyster apprenticeships and trainings.”

  Krey’s head began to feel light. Throughout the conversation, his chest had gotten tighter and tighter. Farmers weren’t the only people the king had forgotten about after his wife died. When Krey was ten and the orange plague ravaged Cellerin, his parents had died because the king had refused to send antibiotics to Tirra, their hometown. Until now, Krey had never connected that heartless act to the king’s grief and addiction.

  Nora met his gaze. A wrinkle appeared in the skin between her eyes, and she gave him a small nod. He got the feeling she somehow knew what he was pondering. He looked at his plate, drawing in a deep, slow breath.

  “I’ve told you my story.” Tiam continued to direct his words to Nora. “Now I have two questions for you.”

  “Yes?”

  “Will you rule like your father used to or like he does now?”

  Nora didn’t hesitate. “Like he used to. I swear it.”

  Tiam watched her, his gaze incisive, for several seconds. Then he held out his arms and lowered his head in a bow.

  Nora didn’t stop him. She simply nodded when he met her gaze again.

  “I’ll follow you,” Tiam said. “I feel confident my family will too.”

  Varia and Joli nodded.

  “What’s the second question?” Nora asked.

  “Pretty much the same one you asked me. Why did you turn against your father?” When Nora didn’t answer, he said, “I know it has something to do with this militia you mentioned, but there’s obviously plenty you haven’t told us.”

  The vice around Krey’s chest had finally loosened. He looked up and locked his gaze on Nora. Could they trust these people? Then again, did it matter? The king had controlled everyone at the palace, plus the whole militia. Sooner or later, news of his capabilities would get out.

  Nora’s countenance was calm, but Krey sensed the swirling thoughts behind her eyes. After a long pause, she sat up straighter. In a calm voice, she told them her father could control minds, though she didn’t explain how he did it. She recalled how she and her friends had freed the militia and defended Deroga. The king, Nora said, was strengthening his magic—something her audience had no trouble believing. They’d heard of the massive dome over the palace. “We still don’t know how he’s accessing so much power,” she concluded.

  “I never thought he was the one controlling them,” Sharai said, her voice uncharacteristically quiet.

  “For months,” Nora said, “I thought I could convince my father to turn away from his dark magic. I wanted him to become the ruler he used to be. But”—her voice sounded choked—“too much of his mind is gone.”

  “So what’s the plan?” Tiam asked.

  Voice still wavering, she said, “Krey can tell you what we’re thinking.”

  He explained their need for a coalition, admitting he didn’t know quite what that would look like. “To start with, we’re hoping the New Therroans in Cellerin City will help us.” He noted Hatlin’s and Sharai’s nods. “We’d also like to ask the former militia members to fight on our side. I know most of them are willing to. They’re some of the best magic eaters anywhere. But there’s over thirty of them. They can’t come to Cellerin City, because the king might find them.”

  “And kill them or control them again,” Nora said.

  “Right now,” Krey said, “Deroga’s the safest place for them. But they’re too far away to help us.”

  “They need to stay close to the palace, like the rest of you are doing,” Tiam said.

  “There’s nowhere to hide that many people,” Nora said.

  Tiam gave her a half smile. “You seem to think I’m the only farmer out here who’s not a fan of the king.”

  “I’m sure you’re not, but I doubt many farmers would harbor fugitives for weeks or months on end.”

  A smooth, low laugh flowed from Tiam’s mouth. “You’re underestimating how pissed off my friends are. You get your militia members here; we’ll find places for them to stay.”

  Nora’s jaw dropped. “Are you sure?”

  “You bet.”

  Hope flooded Krey’s chest. “I can fly to Deroga tomorrow morning. We’ll work out a plan to get them all here.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Nora said. “I’d like to be the one to invite them out here. The sooner they see me as a ruler, the smoother the transition will be.”

  Krey agreed—until he considered what it would mean for Nora to come along. She’d be flying on his back.

  The first time he’d carried her was the first time he’d carried anyone. It had been fascinating and a little weird, wrapping her body into his magic, sensing every bit of it. But he’d quickly gotten used to it.

  So when he’d finally flown with Zeisha, his reaction to her had caught him off guard. His magic had melded with her body, more intimate than any touch. The first time, the second time, every time he’d flown with her, he’d reveled in it.

  Something told him flying with Nora again would be pure torture. By the sky, he’d barely been able to keep his eyes off her when they’d sat down to read together before dinner. How was he supposed to retain his wits if he enveloped her in his magic?

  Every day, Krey hoped the impossibility of a relationship with Nora would reduce his desire for her. It seemed to be having the opposite effect. If he carried her, he’d end up objectifying her, which wouldn’t be fair to her—or to him. It would stoke the flames of a fire he was already desperate to extinguish.

  Krey brought his mind back to the dinner table. Nora was watching him. Oh hell, she’s looking at me like I’ve gone insane. And maybe I have. But his brain was still functional enough to grasp onto the one fact that might save him. “I, uh . . . I know you hate flying with me,” he said, trying to smile casually and totally failing.

  She cocked her head. “Is that what’s concerning you? I wasn’t planning to ask you to carry me.” Her eyes swept over the table. “While we’re telling secrets, I guess it’s time for one more. A few months ago, I befriended a dragon. I’ll ask him to take us to Deroga.”

  The table went silent.

  At last, Sharai spoke in a dry tone. “Every dethroning coalition should have a fire-breathing reptid on their side.”

  11

  It finally happened. The conversation I’ve been dreading.

  Ulmin asked me if I’ve ever been in love.

  My heart pounded as I told him, “Yes. A boy back home. I don’t love him now, but I used to.” I was afraid to ask the next question, but I had to. “Does that bother you?”

&
nbsp; He brought his hand to my cheek. “I don’t care who’s had your heart in the past. As long as it’s free now.”

  My whole body felt suddenly light. “My heart is free. Is yours?”

  “Yes. But I think it’s in danger of getting stolen.”

  -Letter from Ambrel Kaulder to Dani Kaulder

  Dated Centa 28, 180 PD

  Krey slid down Osmius’s back, his boots stirring up the dust of a Star Clan street. “I can’t believe you convinced me to ride on a dragon again.” He patted the beast’s side. “No offense.”

  Osmius huffed, puffing smoke out of both nostrils.

  Nora slid off the dragon. “Osmius is way faster than you. Thanks to him, we beat the storm.” She pointed at the gray rain clouds approaching from the east, obscuring the rising sun.

  He rolled his eyes. She was right, but there was no way he’d tell her that. “Let’s wake up the militia.”

  When they reached the men’s bunkhouse, Krey knocked. A bleary-eyed militia member answered it. “You’re back.” He caught sight of Nora and crossed his arms over his bare chest. “Uh, hey, Princess.”

  “Everyone decent?” Krey asked.

  “Probably not.”

  “I’ll wait out here,” Nora said.

  Krey walked in with the militia member, who called, “Hey, rise and shine. Krey’s here, and he needs to talk to us.” They both started opening window shutters. Several groans sounded from the lumps on the beds.

  When Krey had the attention of the groggy group, he said, “Sorry to wake you up. Nora and I need to meet with you. Can you get to the dining room in twenty minutes?”

  He received mutters of assent, along with a few curses. “You’re the best,” Krey said wryly before going back outside.

  He and Nora walked to the women’s bunkhouse. This time, Nora entered alone. When she returned, she said, “They’ll meet us, but Zeisha wasn’t there. Isla said she’s probably working early. Can you fly up to check the rooftop gardens?”