The Stone Eater (The Magic Eaters Trilogy Book 3)

by Carol Beth Anderson

  Several mets away stood two dragons, one the size of Osmius, the other nearly as large as Taima had been.

  “He-hello,” she said, forgetting that she didn’t need to speak aloud.

  Greetings. Somehow, Nora knew the thought came from the larger dragon, a female whose smooth voice was higher pitched than Taima’s had been.

  The smaller creature remained silent, lowering its head and releasing a smoky huff.

  Despite the slightly muted colors of Osmius’s night vision, Nora could tell that the larger dragon had golden scales, while the other’s coloring was the deep reddish purple of wine.

  Oddly enough, the smaller dragon didn’t have the basket-weave skin of a reptid. Instead, its scales were oval-shaped, with the bottom edge of each overlapping the scale below it. Its nose was long and tapered, and sharp horns shaped like lightning bolts emerged from the sides of its head. While it still had the compound eyes of an Anyarian animal, they matched its skin in color and were quite small. Its neck was long, and its muscular tail rested on the ground behind it, unlike Osmius’s stubby tail.

  The dragon’s voice, male and breathier than Osmius’s, inserted itself into Nora’s mind. Osmius, you did not tell me the human would stare.

  Nora dropped her gaze. Pardon me. I . . . She looked over her shoulder. Using her own vision, she could barely make out Osmius’s head. I have a lot of questions.

  Shall we sit? Osmius said. You may climb onto my back so that when you share my sight, it is not too jarring. After a pause, he added, It shall also show our new comrades that I truly trust you.

  I take it they couldn’t hear that last sentence?

  Correct. Once she was on his back, he said, These two dragons will come on our journey if you wish them to.

  With a smile, Nora said, I would be honored.

  The larger can easily carry three passengers, Osmius said. In order to travel quickly, we smaller dragons shall each carry two.

  Thank you, Nora said. I do have a question. I won’t ask you to reveal your true names, but what can I call you?

  You may call me Gild, the female dragon said.

  It suits you.

  The male sounded bored. I care not what a human calls me.

  Nora refused to be offended. If anyone had the right to be arrogant, it was a dragon. How about Vin—short for Vinaceous? It means “wine-colored.” She’d seen the term in a book once and loved the sound of it.

  As you wish.

  Nora directed her next question to all three dragons. So . . . how do you know each other?

  Osmius replied, Apart from mated pairs, dragons are generally quite solitary. However, we support one another if humans endanger us. This morning, I approached Gild and Vin. I explained the king’s current state of mind and your desire to remove him from power. Knowing his history of dragon enslavement, they agreed to assist you.

  Vin spoke again. I am only willing to carry passengers because I know the king has abused dragonkind. After our journey, I will never again allow such a travesty.

  Thank you both, Nora said. You have no idea what this means to me.

  I am honored to help, Gild said, her voice melodic. Osmius has spoken highly of you, Princess.

  Nora grinned. Don’t tell him I said this, but you may be the nicest dragon I’ve ever met.

  I heard that, Osmius growled.

  Oops.

  I assume you would like to know why Vin differs from other dragons you have seen, Osmius said.

  Yes, please. Nora had been hesitant to ask. The finer points of dragon etiquette were beyond her.

  As I have told you, I was formed from a shimshim. However, shimshims are not found through the whole world.

  And dragons are, Nora replied, seeing where his story was going.

  On The Day, dragons emerged on every continent, from a different animal each time. Across the world, on the continent of Vallinger, they were formed from small phibians called telminas.

  Nora had never heard of telminas, but all phibians were adapted to live both on land and in the water. Now Vin’s differently shaped scales made sense; phibians had similar skin. Telminas probably had horns, pointy noses, and long tails, just like this dragon. Do you breathe fire? Nora asked.

  Vin’s mouth opened, and a short burst of fire emerged, stopping mere simmets from Nora’s face. She swallowed. I guess that’s a yes. Do you have to eat mushu leaves first?

  I do, when I am on this continent. My body is capable of using any of the world’s fire fuels.

  Why are you so far from home?

  Twenty years ago, I settled here. In another twenty years, I may be ready to leave. I wish to know the whole world, not merely the place where I was formed.

  If you don’t mind moving, Nora asked, why are you helping me instead of leaving this place behind?

  She somehow sensed the dragon’s anger before his message reached her mind. I will not allow a human to drive me from my home. Remember that, future queen!

  I will. Thank goodness her telepathic voice was calmer than her real one would’ve been.

  When will you be ready to leave, Nora-human? Osmius asked.

  An hour before sunrise Saturday. That gave her just over two days to prepare. We’ll meet you here.

  Vin’s wings snapped out. He lifted into the air at a terrifying speed.

  Nora swallowed. Thank you, Osmius, she said as she dropped to the dirt. And thank you, Gild. The female dragon lowered her head and breathed deliciously warm air on Nora.

  I’ll be honored to fly alongside you, Vin. Nora sent the thought into the air, knowing it would reach the dragon’s mind. He ignored her.

  19

  Today, I watched Ulmin speak to volunteers at a charity that feeds the hungry. The people clearly love him. He’s charming and earnest and, most of all, confident.

  Dani, I wanted to drag him off that stage and get him somewhere private and demand he kiss me.

  (You don’t show anyone these letters, right?)

  -Letter from Ambrel Kaulder to Dani Kaulder

  Dated Barna 4, 180 PD

  That was a terrible idea! Vin’s voice pierced Nora’s mind.

  From where she sat, propped against Osmius in a grassy meadow, Nora squinted into the sky. The reddish-purple dragon was fast approaching. What happened?

  As soon as I drew close enough to be identified as a dragon, the townspeople retrieved weapons.

  Nora swallowed. What kinds of weapons?

  Bows and blades.

  Well, that was better than guns, but it still wasn’t good.

  A few minutes later, she was standing in a circle with the rebel leaders she’d chosen for the trip. No one had been surprised when she decided to bring her entire inner circle: Krey, Zeisha, Kebi, Sarza, and Joli. Krey hadn’t appreciated the inclusion of Sharai as the last member of the team, but Nora had refused to budge. With her experience working in the monarchy, Sharai brought legitimacy to this trip.

  Now, however, Krey was pinning a snarky, I-told-you-so look on Sharai. She’d been the one to say two members of their party should fly in on a dragon’s back and land in a town square with no notice whatsoever. A dragon, she’d said, would engender respect and a healthy dose of awe. The passengers could then announce Nora’s visit.

  Krey had argued that since dragons rarely flew within sight of humans these days, someone below might get scared and attack, killing the dragon or its passengers. Vin scoffed at that, informing Nora that his skin was far superior to that of local dragons, thick enough to protect even from bullets.

  Hearing that, Nora had agreed to the plan, but only after Vin assured her that if things went south, he’d do all he could to protect his riders. They certainly didn’t have bulletproof skin. She’d sent Sharai and Sarza as her representatives—Sharai because the town’s leaders would probably listen to a former Minister of Lysting, Sarza because you never knew when one of her prophecies would prevent a disaster.

  Nora cleared her throat, drawing Krey’s attention away fro
m Sharai. “We’ll move on to Plan B. Sharai and Sarza will approach the town on foot and announce my visit. Please be careful.”

  The two women were gone about an hour and a half. A smile of victory crossed Sharai’s face as she approached Nora. “They’re ready to welcome you and your dragons.”

  “Really?”

  “They balked at first. I told them if fire-breathing dragons truly wanted to attack a town, they’d likely succeed. The people decided they’d rather be on a magical creature’s good side.”

  Nora grinned. Krey could say what he wanted about Sharai; the woman knew how to get things done. “Sarza, any visions or premonitions?”

  “Nothing.”

  A nervous thrill shot through Nora, making her fingers and toes tingle. “Let’s go.”

  Once she’d mounted Osmius, she looked down at herself. She wore clothes befitting a traveling princess: blue pants and a black tunic, both fitted, and low, black boots. The midday sun was pleasantly warm, but she pulled on her black, hooded coat. It would be cold in the sky.

  Sharai had insisted Nora needed professional clothes when speaking to the people of Cellerin. One of the farmers helping the rebels had purchased two outfits, both in Cellerinian blue and black. Another had quickly tailored them. Nora didn’t want to admit to anyone how amazing it felt being clad in soft, expensive fabric and leather again.

  After a quick flight, all three dragons landed without incident in the town square. Their seven passengers dismounted. Nora’s eyes scanned the square. A small group of men and women stared at her. When the dragons returned to the sky, more townspeople emerged from the buildings.

  A man who appeared quite young introduced himself as the mayor. He bowed, and everyone else followed suit.

  Nora stood straight, her shoulders back. “Thank you for your warm welcome. I’m here to tell you what’s really happening in Cellerin.”

  Krey watched Nora speak. Following Sharai’s advice, she was calmly telling the townspeople that her father had found a way to control minds . . . and that he was losing his own. Ulmin was using his ability too often, Sharai had argued, for it to remain a secret. Nora should expose the truth before someone else did. Sharai had also suggested Nora be open about her desire to take Ulmin’s crown. Some patriotic citizens might consider this treasonous, but the fire-breathing beasts flying overhead would surely discourage any attacks.

  Krey had scoffed at Sharai’s strategy. This time, however, the woman’s instincts had been on target. Damn it.

  As Nora spoke of her father’s ability to capture minds, a shocked silence fell over the crowd. She didn’t describe where his power came from; she’d do all she could to protect that dangerous secret. But she didn’t mince words as she described his growing insanity. Her speech exuded passion, grief, and strength.

  Krey shifted his attention to the listeners. Some had crossed their arms, wary of Nora’s message. But many nodded, and all were captivated.

  When Nora stopped talking, she and the mayor held a short, private conversation. Then he turned to speak to the entire group. “Do you remember when King Ulmin sent workers to build our first windmill?” He pointed at a wooden windmill, barely visible over one of the square’s buildings.

  Most of the audience confirmed it with nods and murmured words.

  “That was thirteen years ago. I was fifteen. Do you remember when the king sent workers to build our second windmill?” A pause, then: “Of course you don’t. He said he’d do it, and he never did. Do you remember when we had a terrible drought and sent a delegation to the king? He gave us promises of assistance—promises that did nothing to fill our bellies. Do you remember . . .”

  As the mayor went on, the crowd hung on his every word, as they had with Nora. Krey could see how this guy had gotten elected. In a speech so smooth it seemed he’d practiced it, he gave many examples of how the king hadn’t fulfilled his commitments to the town. Krey blinked back tears when the man spoke of not having enough medicine during the orange plague epidemic.

  “Do you remember?” The mayor’s voice was still loud enough for everyone to hear, but it had taken on a somber tone. “Do you remember asking your spouse, your neighbor, your parents, ‘Why?’ Why, we wondered, would a king who’d always been faithful to us, suddenly ignore us?” He turned to Nora. “At last we now know why. Thank you, Your Highness. I can’t speak for my people . . . but I’m ready for a change.”

  Krey let his gaze sweep over the crowd again. Many arms that had been crossed now hung loose. Lips that had been pursed were relaxed. Eyes that had held cynicism were now full of trust.

  Nora spoke to them again, committing to bring justice back to the land and to remember the citizens her father had forgotten.

  She sounded like a queen.

  It must be close to midnight. Nora was too keyed up to sleep. She’d visited three towns in one day, a feat only made possible by the dragons. Now, she was wrapped in a blanket, sitting on a dark plain. Gild was a few mets away, having completed a successful hunting trip. Osmius and Vin were still searching for prey and for the mushu leaves that fueled the fire they breathed. Most of Nora’s team members slept in tents around a dying campfire.

  Thank you for coming with us, Gild, Nora said. You, Vin, and Osmius made this possible today.

  We are not the ones who captured the hearts of Cellerinians in three towns. There seemed to be a smile in Gild’s sweet voice.

  Yeah, but you carried us there. And you gave me courage, knowing you were flying up there, ready to protect me.

  I should thank you for inviting me on this adventure. After two hundred years of hunting and soaring through the clouds, I was terribly bored. Musical laughter traveled from Gild’s mind, and Nora couldn’t help but join in.

  All three communities they’d visited had invited the princess and her party to stay with them, but Nora had decided in advance that they’d only camp outside. She’d found a lot of support today, but her father had loyalists everywhere. It would be far too easy for someone to attack her in her sleep. She had, however, accepted food before leaving the last town.

  Nora pulled her blanket tighter around her, breathing in the crisp air and basking in the silence. She’d spent so much time planning and strategizing lately. Today had given her a glimpse of the big picture, and her heart still thumped hard with the thrill of it all. She’d had a purpose for a while, but it had been theoretical. Now it was rich with the faces of hopeful citizens she’d spoken to, people who believed she could improve their lives. Now she knew who she was fighting for.

  Rapid footsteps approached. It had to be Krey, who’d taken the first watch shift. “Hey,” Nora said softly.

  He stopped, the pale starlight barely outlining his silhouette as he squatted near her. He was panting lightly; he must’ve been jogging around the camp. “Why are you awake?” he asked.

  “I can’t sleep. Why are you running?”

  “To keep myself awake.”

  She laughed softly. “I’ll take this shift. I’m not tired.”

  “Actually, can we talk? I’ve been thinking about something.”

  “Sure, have a seat.”

  “Can we go a little farther from the group?”

  She nodded, then realized he couldn’t see her. “Okay.” She stood.

  Krey led her to a spot under a tree, near enough for him to keep an eye on the campsite, far enough that no one would overhear their soft voices. They sat next to each other in the dirt. Nora wrapped herself in her blanket again. “Aren’t you cold?”

  “Yeah, it’s keeping me alert.” She heard his long intake of breath, then his sigh. In a low voice, he said, “I’ve been thinking about the stone. Once you’re queen, do you think you should hide it? Somewhere no one will ever find it?”

  “No!” The word shot from her mouth of its own volition.

  “How do you really feel about it?”

  She couldn’t see his wry smile, but she could picture it. “Krey, the stone . . . it’s part of my inherit
ance. It doesn’t belong to my family, but we’ve kept it safe ever since The Day. And we don’t just protect it; we create an opportunity for people to visit it. It’s unthinkable to hide it away.”

  Krey didn’t respond, and Nora appreciated him mulling over what he’d said. For several minutes, the only sounds were small shifts of their bodies on the cold dirt.

  At last, Nora said, “I know the stone is dangerous. I wouldn’t trust any lyster—even myself—with its power. It’s just . . .” She turned her head, barely able to make out the shape of him.

  He turned too. “Why are you giving me that look?”

  “You have no idea what look I’m giving you.”

  “Yeah, but I know you’re giving me one.”

  She laughed, feeling suddenly warmer. “It’s strange to hear you talking about hiding the stone.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, you’re religious.”

  It was his turn to laugh. “You think I’m one of those people who worships a stone that caused an apocalypse?”

  “I don’t think you worship it. But a lot of Rimorians, especially lysters, honor it.”

  “I don’t. I mean, it’s powerful, but it’s still just an object. If someone’s taking advantage of its power, maybe we should make that impossible. Pretty sure the stone can’t do anything to stop us from burying it or dropping it in the ocean.”

  Nora bit her lip, considering his words. “Power isn’t always a bad thing. The stone is a symbol of humanity rising again after so many people died. Can we take that away from people?”

  “I don’t know.” His voice was soft, thoughtful. “Symbols are important.”

  She stared at his silhouette, wishing she could see his expression. “Why do you believe in God?” The question slipped out before she was sure she wanted to ask it.

  There was a long pause, but Krey didn’t turn away. Finally, he said, “Humans traveled to Anyari from a planet preday scientists never found. Their journey was farther than we can imagine, but I’m sure it was nothing more than a tiny blip, compared to the size of the entire universe. There are so many wonders out there—black holes and galaxies and nebulae. There are planets we could survive on and planets where we’d burn alive if we even got close to them. All that makes me think maybe there’s a God, some sort of creative force behind it all.”