The Crown of Stones: Magic-Borne

by C. L. Schneider

  Curious, Krillos stepped closer. “Like what?”

  Pulling the moments out of my head, I pieced them together. “From what I could tell, when the crown’s spell kicked in, Jem’s mind and body were altered as one. When his appearance changed, his presence became stronger in their collective mind. Jem’s not erudite. He doesn’t have the means to interact with the hive, or sense the creatures like I do. Not yet. But they’re aware of him. They have been from the beginning.”

  “What about his memories?” Krillos asked. “Are they in the pot? Did you see anything about the layout of his city, or his plan of attack? Anything helpful?”

  I shook my head. “Being in their minds is like standing in a waterfall trying to catch a single drop on your tongue.”

  “Ian,” Jarryd cut in. “If your connection to the eldring increased as he neared Kabri, are you saying…?” His stare was hopeful and eager. I knew what he was asking.

  “You can relax, Nef’taali. What I was feeling was him, not the spell.”

  “So does that mean…” Caution tightened Jarryd’s voice. “It’s not happening at all, or it’s not happening now?”

  “Okay, boys,” Krillos said loudly. “What am I missing?”

  I downplayed it so I wouldn’t have to hear his lecture. “My senses have been overly strong of late. I thought I was changing, that I was going to start looking like Jem.”

  Sienn read my tone. “You learned something from your bond with the young eldring.”

  “I did,” I nodded. “To them, my father feels like an eldring. I don’t. I affect their senses and minds in a completely different way.” I paused, unsure if I was delivering good news or bad. “I was wrong. My scars aren’t a precursor to the eldring spell. They aren’t related to it at all. They’re something else.”

  Krillos scratched his head. “Casting with the crown isn’t making you one of them?”

  “No.”

  “Thank the gods,” Jarryd muttered as Krillos slapped him on the back in celebration.

  Sienn seemed less relieved. Her brows knitted tight, she asked, “If the eldring spell doesn’t have a hold of you, Ian, what does?”

  “I have no idea.”

  THIRTY

  Dawn was barely awake when Elek knocked on my door. I was just pulling on my shirt. He was fully dressed. Beautifully etched gloved gauntlets covered his hands, wrists, and forearms. A tightly woven mail tunic and leggings covered the tanned skins he wore beneath. Hanging from the right side of his belt was a well-crafted studded mace. The polished head shined with the burst of sun coming through my open window.

  I didn’t like the man, but I couldn’t deny he looked formidable. Even more so with the wings on his forehead scrunched tight. I added that to his stern, dark eyes, and his interest in decapitating me, and I was certain our conversation had no hope of going well. What I was less certain of was why he was here at all. Lowering himself to approach a common Shinree, instead of summoning me to him, didn’t fit his personality.

  I uttered a short, polite, “Elek.” Leaving the door open, with him on the threshold, I returned to my bed. What little I owned, as well as three leather bags, lay on top of the covers; he’d interrupted my packing. His presence didn’t bother me in that regard. It wasn’t a task requiring focus. Seeing as I had no idea when or if I might return, I was taking everything. The castle seamstress had repaired my spare clothes, so I stuffed them in. More reverently, I handled the garments Malaq had tailored and delivered to my room. Made of supple dark brown leather, with lacings on the arms and stones sewn into the cuffs, the shirt appeared sturdy, comfortable, and functional. The accompanying full-length cloak, breeches, new boots, and sword belt were a welcome touch. I kept out the boots and belt to wear, and packed the rest. All my trips lately seemed to require bandages, so those went in next. I picked up the Nor-Taali that bound me to Jarryd. I ran a finger over the etchings on the blade, then over the stones. Their auras skipped pleasantly beneath my skin. I thought of what my death would do to him, and guilty thoughts bore in deep. I banished them along with the enjoyment and tossed the dagger in.

  I glanced at Elek. Hands clasped behind his back, he strode about my room, surveying it with disdainful curiosity. “Expecting problems?” I asked. “Or did you get dressed up for me?”

  His reply was dry and aloof. “A good warrior always expects problems.”

  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “What can I do for you, Elek?”

  “Nothing,” he said, with enough meaning and insult to encompass every aspect of his life. “However, before we depart for Langor, I thought it wise to ensure you comprehend where we stand.”

  “Let’s see… You want me dead so can parade my head through Arulla’s streets. And I don’t much care for parades. I think that about covers it.”

  Elek’s bird wings opened as he laughed. It was a shocking sound I hadn’t thought him capable of. “I understand now what these people see in you, Troy. You amuse them, fascinate them with quips and stories of the disastrous situations you create. They laugh at your mischief like one would a jester. They pity you.”

  I shoved a wineskin in my bag. “Here’s where we really stand, Elek. You help Malaq defend Langor, and if you stay the hell out of my way, I won’t kill you.”

  “I give you the same caveat, Troy. With King Malaq’s urging, I have agreed to loosen my government’s claim on you.”

  “Loosen by how much?”

  “The bounty has been withdrawn in light of your potential service in Mirra’kelan’s current conflict. You are no longer a fugitive in the eyes of Arulla.”

  “And in your eyes?”

  “I pray for the day you have cause to step foot on my shores.”

  “I bet you do,” I grinned. “Letting Malaq tie your hands must have come with a hefty tag. What did he offer you? Land? Coin?”

  “I have no interest in owning Mirra’kelan’s inferior soil. Even less: Rellan money. The coin of an occupied land has no worth.”

  “If you’re telling me you agreed to walk away from the man responsible for your mother’s death for free, I’m not buying it. Malaq must have given you something.”

  “His sister.”

  My hand in the bag in front of me, I froze. “His what?”

  “Once my aid is no longer required, Princess Jillyan will return with me to Arulla.”

  I resisted my urge to shove the bag off the bed. “She agreed to this?”

  “Readily. Though it would have happened regardless…if Malaq is half the man he claims to be. My assistance in the impending battle and his subsequent status as High King will not be trivial. I deserve nothing less than a permanent representative of his new reign in my country, someone with political experience who can ease the tension in our government and mend the fracture that has widened under Draken’s rule.”

  “Jillyan is going to Arulla as an emissary…nothing more?”

  “A proposal was made, but the King declined to fortify our alliance by marriage. Though, no doubt he will come to see the wisdom in such an arrangement, merely hosting a woman like Jillyan in my home will bring its own pleasures.”

  My jaw clenched at his insinuation. “Malaq had no right to trade her life for mine.”

  “He had every right to decide her future. Not only as Jillyan’s King, but as the only representative of her family who possess the faculty to do so. And as far as your fate is concerned, Troy, Malaq’s right is without question. You are his Shinree, after all.”

  “He said that?”

  Elek smiled. “More or less.”

  I snatched up the wine bottle on the bedside table. I considered lobbing it at his head, but I didn’t want to waste the wine. So I shelved the impulse and drank as he prattled on.

  “From a political standpoint, the King negotiated an excellent deal. My weapons will prove infinitely more valuable to his reign
than a widowed Queen well known to have abandoned both thrones she sat upon. And after keeping company with you, her current reputation in his new court will do him no favors. He also arranged for you, Troy, someone he evidently attaches great value to, to be spared. My only true regret is yielding on the matter of Queen Elayna. Her betrayal of my trust is most disappointing. It should not go unpunished.”

  “You forced her hand. Elayna had no choice but to take action against you.”

  “My hasty judgment cannot equate to that woman’s criminal deeds.”

  “That woman is your sister.”

  “She drugged my troops and released my prisoners. And she has done so without penance. If this was Arulla—”

  “It’s not.” I sat on the end of the bed with the bottle in my hand; his words from before nagging at me. “You said weapons. As in you have more than one?”

  “It’s sad what limited knowledge you all have of my homeland.”

  “Aylagar talked of its beauty. She mentioned the jungles and the falls many times.”

  “Trees and water? Did she not speak of our schools, our scholars and artists, the inventors who craft our machines?”

  “Machines?” In my trip to Kabri’s future, Malaq spoke of great machines of war rolling across the land, destroying the realms. But five years from now such weapons were in my father’s hands. Not Malaq’s. “What exactly is it you bring to this conflict, Elek?”

  He smiled wide, unfurling the bird’s wings. “Victory.”

  I stood up. Corking the bottle, I tossed it on the bed. “Aylagar would never have approved of this. She would have seen no honor in a weapon like yours.”

  “My mother was many things, but a visionary, she was not. Our society was on the cusp of numerous great discoveries when she left to marry King Raynan—discoveries that would have put her and I on opposite sides. Once Malaq is High King, with his backing, and his persuasive voice hailing the power of our inventions, my government’s divide will shrink out of existence.”

  “And leave you somewhere on top?”

  “I am Senior Orator. Where else would I be?”

  “That’s why my father came to see you. He wants your machines.”

  “The subject was broached. Though, Jem Reth, in his arrogance believes he will simply take them when the war is done. I think he will find their appropriation considerably more difficult than he realizes.”

  “You have no idea what a Shinree soldier is capable of, do you?” I stepped up, getting in close, letting him see the truth in my eyes. “If my father wants your machines, he’ll have them.”

  “I would never allow Arulla’s greatest achievement to be fouled by Shinree hands. I would sooner destroy them.”

  “Unless he destroys you first.”

  “You think to scare me, to frighten me out of this alliance. Why?”

  “I don’t give a damn about your alliance. I’m trying to prevent more bloodshed than we already have coming.”

  “No, you want me to turn and run. And you think, when I do, I might leave Jillyan behind.” Elek inched up, closing the already miniscule gap between us. “Make no mistake, Troy, this agreement was not forced upon her. In fact, she seemed in a hurry to be gone. As if being immersed in Arullan culture was far more appealing than her current position…as a repository for your tainted seed.”

  I punched him. It was pure reflex.

  The second time was on purpose.

  Elek’s responding blow was fast, but not fast enough. Blocking it, and the next three, I grabbed Elek’s arm, spun him around and shoved him out the door.

  Breaking free, he pivoted back with defiant eyes. “I told the King it was only a matter of time before your treachery was revealed. And now, he will see the truth. Having you by his side in Langor will damage his reputation and threaten his chance for peace.”

  “So that’s why you’re here? You want me to hurt you. You want me to leave a mark, so you can run back to Malaq. Tell him how you came to talk and I attacked you. Tell him I’m out of control. Give him cause not to trust me.”

  “He shouldn’t need cause. I have great respect for the man, but it baffles me why he wants you, a Shinree, to fight in his name. Malaq’s confidence in you is ill-placed.”

  “I’ve been trying to tell him that for years.”

  My jest worsened his anger. Elek’s voice dropped to a shrewd whisper. “Your eyes betray what lies amongst the filth in your mind. You think to spell me even now—even knowing it would be against his wishes.”

  “You’re wrong, Elek. I wasn’t thinking about spelling you. I was thinking about taking out my knife and gutting you.”

  “Like you did my sister, Neela?”

  Guilt swept through me like an icy gale. Anger burned in my veins, and the crown stirred. I had a flash of Elek dead at my feet. I wanted to make it come true.

  Clenching my fists until it hurt, through gritted teeth, I said slow and dark, “Neela didn’t mean a damn thing to you.”

  “Nor you, apparently.” I growled in reply, and a streak of nervousness crossed Elek’s face. He buried it with bluster as he moved out into the hall. “Perhaps Elayna will get her punishment after all. Whether by sword or magic, Ian Troy seems unable to resist the lure of slaughtering Arcana women.”

  Obsidian drifted into my eyes. I clamped my fists tighter. Blood welled beneath my nails and the magic receded. “What you’re forgetting, is that I cared for them. So what do you think that means for you, Senior Orator Elek?” I slammed the door and went back to my bed to finish packing.

  “If you’re fishing for an apology, don’t bother.” Malaq stood up from his desk. Book in hand, he moved to the shelves across the room.

  I glared at his back as he slid the book away. He turned around, and I glared at his face. “Mirra’kelan isn’t a game board. And we aren’t your playing pieces.”

  Returning to his desk, Malaq picked up a sealed letter. He moved by me again, this time for the door. “We don’t see politics the same way, Ian. We never have.”

  “That’s your answer?”

  He paused to glance at me. “Yes.” Malaq handed the letter to a messenger standing near the door. Dismissing the man, he went back to his desk again. He stood behind it, staring at the stacks of papers lining the polished wooden surface. His single-eyed gaze was devoid of expression, but I felt his annoyance simmering below the surface.

  I put mine out in the open. “You brokered a deal trading my life for Jillyan’s future.”

  “I made an arrangement that was in the best interest of Mirra’kelan.”

  “You don’t speak for me.”

  “Would you rather I let him execute you? Never mind,” his head snapped up. “Don’t answer that.”

  “Fuck you, Malaq. Do you really think I wanted him to chop my head off?”

  Letting out a heavy exhale, he rubbed the skin above his patch like it itched. “Allying with Elek gives us the best advantage to come out of this with the least amount of casualties and some modicum of social order. Haven’t we already discussed this?”

  “Feels like we’ve been discussing it since the day we met.”

  “Then it’s time we stop. I don’t tell you how to swing a sword or cast a spell.”

  “No, but you’d like to.”

  A begrudging smile cracked his sober face. “The point is. You have your expertise. I have mine. Can we please, for once, leave it at that?”

  I didn’t want to, but Jillyan had struck the bargain of her own free will. I had no real fodder for an argument. So I switched to another nagging topic. “Elek’s machines, what are they?”

  “A wonder,” Malaq said, though he sounded noticeably more weary than awestruck. “He’s having them unloaded from his ships and made ready for transport as we speak.”

  “Have you seen them?”

  “Just the drawings
.” He came around to perch on the front edge of his desk. “The body is held up by massive wheels turned by the power of steam. Double chutes grace a front panel of metal. The first releases that ignitable powder Ordree set off in my courtyard. The other delivers a flame to spark its might. Inside, a crank moves the chutes from left to right, allowing the wielder to attack the flank while leaving his front clear. With such a weapon, our enemies will fall by the hundreds in one blow.”

  “You remember Jem spelled most of those people, right?”

  “And with that spell, your father has made his own war machines. I can’t reason with them. I can’t bring them to our side. You said it yourself. They will kill until they are killed.”

  “So fight back. But these machines will lay waste on a massive level. That doesn’t sit right with me.”

  “You mean Elek doesn’t sit right? Because I don’t have to tell you the feeling is mutual.”

  “How hard has he lobbied to keep me out of this?”

  “Pretty hard. Elek’s afraid that if you’re in Langor, I’ll rely on your magic over his machines.”

  “It feels like more. But it is cute, how he wants you all to himself.”

  Malaq’s jaw twitched. “Just as it is when you lecture me about inflicting mass casualties.”

  The jab chopped my attitude in half. But it didn’t change my opinion. If my father acquired Elek’s machines, it would put us one step closer to a future with him as Emperor. “I’m not fond of you blowing up an army full of people not acting of their own free will, Malaq. It’s a weight you don’t want to carry.”

  “Let me guess,” he grinned. “You’d rather use magic and carry it for me?”

  “If it comes to that, yes, I would.”

  My sincerity drained his amusement. “I appreciate that, Ian. But I’m about to wrest the highest seat in the realms from my brother. Ask lands whose people have been in conflict for generations to come together and fight for a common cause. Not to mention free the Shinree and abolish centuries old slave laws. It’s safe to say my plan won’t be popular. If I’m going to enforce it, my hands are going to get dirty sooner or later.”