Stones Unbound (The Magestone Chronicles Book 1) (25 page)

The worvine spoke some more orders in the cragling language
and more of the creatures stepped forward and stuck Robart with spears, and
struck him with clubs as he writhed on the ground.  Once he stopped moving, the
worvine gave more commands and Robart was dragged over to a large stake in the
ground and tired securely to it in a seated position.  Blood ran from various
puncture wounds all over his body.

The worvine stepped forward and splashed some water onto
Robart's face from the wooden bowl he had retrieved from nearby.  Robart's head
barely moved, but Celia could hear him groaning from where they were.

"Now we torture man many suns," the worvine stated
without emotion.

---o---

Celia stood before the magegate to Mahad'avor, her sponsor
standing to one side.  She couldn't believe that she was finally here, or
almost, at least.  Once she had made her Choice those two long years ago, she
thought she would immediately come to Mahad'avor with the Dar'Shilaar who had
accepted her and turned away her father's wrath.

"But that was not the way of things," Gundan
Shilaar had responded when she had asked him that night in the Gilded Pear on
Farthing Way.

"Then what is the way?" she had asked.

"We travel the world for the span of two years.  We
learn of other lands, other cultures, other governments.  We experience
charity, hatred, fear, loathing, worship and despair.  Only then can we
understand ourselves.  And only after we understand ourselves, can we hope to
tame the magical forces of our world.  Only then will we be
worthy
to
channel those forces."

And so, they had left on a ship the next morning, hiring
themselves to a crew of Sarethans who had no real use for magic, but did not
fear it either.

The two years proved hard.  Gundan lead her through various
countries, from one experience to the next challenge for the two full years.

And now, it was her eighteenth birthing day, and she was
standing in front of the magegate in the Shilaar embassy in Port Destrium of
The Seven Isles, waiting for Gundan to activate it.

"Remember, just because I accepted you, and you have
spent your two requisite years travelling the world, does not mean you will be
accepted as a full Dar'Shilar after training.  You still have to bond a
stone."

"I know," she replied.  "You've only told me
a hundred times."

"It hasn't been a hundred," he responded cheerily.

With that, he chanted the words of magic to activate the
gate, touching the five magestones mounted in the frame in quick succession. 
The gate swirled, along with her stomach, as the gate focussed into a courtyard
hundreds of leagues away.  She stepped forward into her future.

---o---

She stood in line with seven of her classmates at the head
of the hall facing their gathered peers, or soon to be peers.  All the
Dar'Shilaar that could make it were assembled within the large hall, their
teachers, their sponsors, and of course The Seven.  Against the size of the
gathering hall, the one hundred and eighteen in attendance looked a mere
pittance.  Prior to this graduation ceremony, she had learned that she and those
of her classmates that had shown exceptional skill, if not much power in her own
case, were joining the ranks of only a few hundred Dar'Shilaar worldwide.  She
had always assumed that it was more.

Of course, nothing was certain right up until the point that
Dar'Shilaar chose their magestone and were bonded to it.  Sometimes the bonding
did not take, and the student was allowed to try another stone again the
following season.  If the bonding did not take after the third try, the student
was asked to leave Mahad'avor - forever.

The first student was called forward by the Fal'Shilaar, the
First, a wise old wizard who was first among equals, the wielder of the Staff
of Everilon, Endergot Shilaar.  The student, Falin, stepped up to the choosing
table, where sat eight stones of various hues, glowing softly on the table. 
She tucked her long red hair behind one ear and held her hand above the table
like they had been taught.  She moved her hand back and forth slowly until she
stopped it over a deep crimson magestone.  She reached down and scooped it up
carefully into the palm of her hand, and stared at it for many of Celia's
breaths.

Suddenly the stone flared brightly, and then settled itself
back to normal.  Falin smiled deeply and stepped back into line, her precious
stone clutched in her hand.  She would have the opportunity to have the stone
set in any piece of jewelry she wished by the jewel crafter that had resided on
Mahad'avor for many decades.

Each student stepped up to try and bond with a stone.  Five
before her tried, and only one failed.  Alian'adira stepped back from the
table, her face an elven mask of controlled emotion.  She had all the time in
the world to try again, however it was rumored that this was her second try. 
Celia was glad that this was her first try, and fervently hoped that this would
be her only try.

It was now her turn to step forward.  As she stepped to the
table, her eyes travelled over the shoulder of the diminutive Fal'Shilaar to
those of her sponsor, Gundan.  He smiled and nodded once, indicating his trust
in her and that she would do fine.  In her three years since coming to
Mahad'avor to begin her real training, Gundan had visited only a handful of
times.  He had insisted that he would not miss this day every time he visited. 
And he was true to his word.

As she stepped up to the table she looked down into the
kindly eyes of the leader of the spell wielders.  He smiled up at her and
gestured to the table.  "Seek acceptance," he whispered cryptically,
for her ears alone.

She raised one hand over the four remaining stones, each glowing
a different colour; indigo, amber, azure and vermillion.  She moved her hand
slowly back and forth, trying to sense the stone as she had been taught the day
before.  She stood like that for what seemed like forever, willing herself to
feel.

Finally, almost defeated, sensing nothing from the stones,
she let out a deep breath she did not realize she was holding.  And suddenly,
as her body relaxed that one fraction, and her mind accepted the possibility of
defeat she felt it - or them rather.  She moved her hand back and forth with
more purpose now.  The indigo stone felt like death to her, causing her hand to
flinch.  She knew if she touched that stone it would mean her death.  The amber
stone felt like hate, the vermillion of flame and pain.  The azure magestone,
however, it felt like life itself, like a breath of fresh air, a drink of cool
spring water.  She reached down and scooped it up into her hand smiling wide.

She felt the stone in her hand.  She felt the stone in her
mind.  She relaxed and accepted the bond with the stone, and the stone with
her.

---o---

Celia's eyes flicked open, the cold stone below her
unnoticed.  She understood, and with that understanding came acceptance, and
with the acceptance - power.  She had fallen asleep in the cold evening air,
huddled up in a near ball, her joints stiff from the awkward, uneven floor of
the stone 'cage' they had been kept in for nearly a full day and night.  She
saw the others, dozing around in the darkness, and to the flickering light
illuminating the bound figure of Robart out in the camp's center.

  Focusing her will, she drew power from the violet
magestone, even though it was not in her possession, and spoke words of magic
and suddenly her skin was on fire, her small clothes remaining intact.  She stood,
violet flames surrounding her, giving the alcove an unearthly glow.

She could hear the craglings above yell down in agitation
and begin to throw spears down at her.  They were incinerated in the magical
fire surrounding her before they could reach her skin.  She saw the others look
up, and back away startled, staying as far from her as they could in the small
confines.

She stepped up to the wood and vine gate, pausing only
slightly as the wood incinerated to almost nothing within moments.  "Go
get Robart.  Make sure he's okay," she ordered as she moved out of the
narrow alcove of stone.  She noted that they complied; stepping far to the side
of her as they raced for the pole he was bound to.  She noted that Hoyle
grabbed a few of the makeshift weapons in case they were needed, but all eyes
were focused on her.

Stepping forward, she cast another spell from somewhere deep
in the recesses of her mind, or maybe it was knowledge imparted by the violet
magestone, she was not entirely certain.  Her mind expanded, and she knew it
would only last but a short time and she ordered, in the language of the
craglings that she was now able to speak and understand, "Return our
possessions and allow us to leave, or feel my wrath!"

A small number of craglings charged her, throwing spears and
clubs from a distance.  The wooden spears and club handles incinerated a
distance from her skin, but one of the clubs had a rock head, which made it
through the flames and struck her shoulder.  Before other craglings could
figure out she could be injured, and possibly killed, in that fashion she flung
out her hands, sending balls of violet flame at the offending craglings,
incinerating them on the spot.

Turning, she shouted, "I repeat, return our possessions
and allow us to leave, or I will burn this entire ravine down to bare
rock!"  She was getting angry, but she wasn't sure if that was her or the
stone.  Several craglings began to throw rocks at her, and she was forced to
roast them where they stood, several spans away.  She did note in the corner of
her mind that the other three had freed Robart, and apparently Valena had
healed him of many of his injuries, as he was standing watching her with the
others.  "I want my stones back!"

As she yelled, many of the craglings dropped to their knees
and prostrated themselves before her.  Soon more were joining the first ones,
and within a matter of moments they were all kneeling.

She was facing the cave entrance when the worvine appeared;
ears back like a house cat's, his fangs bared.  He took a look around the
ravine, and noted all the craglings kneeling to her.  He threw both her amulet
and the violet magestone at her feet.  "You go now!  No more hurt!  You go
now!"

"Where is the rest of our stuff?!" she demanded
harshly as she picked up her amulet and the fist-sized stone.

The worvine gestured off to one side, under an overhang on
the far side of the alcove where they had been caged from the cave entrance. 
Hoyle and the rest moved over to the pile of their belongings and began to get
dressed.  Once they were fully clothed and had weapons ready did Celia drop the
violet flames surrounding her body and step within the ring of weapons they
made around her.

She stumbled as she stepped past Salrissa, who grabbed her
arm to steady her and whispered in her ear, "Are you okay?"

Celia could only nod weakly as she slowly dressed herself,
the others standing guard.  Salrissa helped her stand, and moving slowly, they
made their way out of the cragling's ravine.  Celia looked back as they mounted
the small switch-backed trail up the ravine's side, to see the craglings still
kneeling and the worvine standing at his cave entrance watching them go.

Hoyle was still dazzled by the memory of Celia wreathed in
purple flames as she destroyed the gate and fought the craglings off by herself
as they trudged back the way from which they had been led just over a day ago. 
He looked at her now, cradled in Robart's strong arms, having passed out
shortly after climbing out of the ravine.  Valena had checked her, confirming
that she was okay, just exhausted, and that rest was the only remedy.  Hoyle
felt relief to hear that diagnosis.

He looked at Robart's face, which was currently wracked with
confusion, as he carried Celia carefully as they ascended the trail.  If he was
confused as to why Hoyle had let him live, he must be equally confused as to
why Celia rescued him from certain torture.  Hoyle would have been willing to
sacrifice a day or two more of discomfort with those creatures himself to see
Robart tortured for that same amount of time.

They reached the cleft of rock where they had taken shelter
the previous evening and passed it, leaving it dark, none of them feeling safe
this close to the craglings ravine.  Hoyle suspected that they would leave them
alone, but suspected that the worvine might want revenge.  He looked up at the
thin sliver of moon in the night sky.  Tomorrow would be the first day of
spring, marked by the new moon, the Spring Planting Festival would be in full
swing back in Tala'ahar.

As they crested the ridge where they had spotted the
Goralonian army the night before they stopped, stunned.  Below them no cook
fires flickered in the deep night.  Even past the mid of night there would be a
few burning below that should be seen from this distance - if the army was
there.

"Where did they all go?" Valena asked, exhaustion
tingeing her voice.

"We have to keep moving," Salrissa stated.  He
noted exhaustion in her voice too.  It had been a long day with little to eat
or drink, exposed to the elements, mostly cold; even Hoyle was feeling the
burning in his muscles.

"Let's get down this ridge and find a safe place to
take a short rest," he responded as he started them moving forward again. 
He had a good idea where the army went, but had to confirm his suspicions.  The
others followed him as he found a narrow trail down the far side of the ridge
into the trees below.

---o---

They had managed to stumble down the trail in the near
darkness without hurting themselves too much, and finally found a small
clearing in a tightly packed copse of trees.  The clearing had only one gap
wide enough to squeeze Robart's wide shoulders through, and therefore they had
to pass Celia's limp form into their area of shelter.  They laid her down on
the soft, mossy ground to one side of the clearing as dawn was lightening the
sky.  The remainder of them collapsed onto the ground at several points around
the perimeter to rest. 

Salrissa broke out the remains of her rations, and finished
them quickly, had a gulp or two of water from her skin and went to the gap in
the trees to stand guard.

They managed to rest for the remainder of the morning, and
managed to get some food and water into Celia which brought her around.  She
was still weak and tired, but finishing off the remainder of her rations
brought her energy level up.

Hoyle moved over beside Celia.  "What was that last
night?" he asked her quietly, looking at Robart as he did so.

"What was what?" Celia asked groggily.  It seemed
she was still tired from her experience.

"Oh that little trick where you burst into flame and
rescued us all from those stick creatures."

"Oh that." Celia replied.  "I'm not entirely
sure.  And
those
were craglings."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, those 'stick creatures' as you call them are
named craglings.  I'm not sure how that was confusing," she responded.  He
thought he could see a small smile from the corner of his eye, but when he
turned to face her, it was gone.

"I meant 'what do you mean you're not entirely sure'?"
he tried again with a slight smile.  It seemed she was feeling better, or at
least, he thought so.

"The quafa'shilaar we found in the sky skiff has been
inside my head since I tapped it to get us away from Farad'avor that night.  I
have been fighting it off nearly since then, but I also couldn't leave it
behind in the wreckage, since it had a strong connection with me, and I to
it."  Celia adjusted her robes around her as she shifted into a more
comfortable position.  "Besides, it would have been unsafe to leave it
there for anyone to find."

"Yes, I suspect that desolate spot has many travellers
showing up unannounced...  But how did you tap into it to cast your spell? 
Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't you need to have it about your person to
wield your magic?"

"Apparently not."  She looked to be thinking
fairly hard, so Hoyle sat quietly beside her.  He noted that Robart and Valena
were whispering to each other on the far side of the clearing about five paces
away.  Robart kept looking over at Hoyle and Celia.  "It pried my mind open,
going through my memories, trying to show me something, possibly to communicate
with me.  It found a memory that worked.  I finally accepted that we were bound
together, and with that acceptance I found that I could access its power, even
though I was not in possession of it."

Hoyle looked down at his hands, and nudged Celia with his
shoulder, "Well thanks for saving us... me... again."  He looked at
her from the corner of his eye.

"Well this would certainly be easier if you wouldn't
keep getting yourself into trouble.  If you had been more careful," she
said with her eyebrow raised, "you could have probably rescued us
yourself."

"Yeah, who knew stick people could move that
quietly."  He looked over at the others as the sun climbed higher in the
sky.  He could see clouds gathering over the peaks to the west.  "We had
better get moving, it looks like it might rain later."

---o---

It was mid afternoon as they ascended the next ridge, being
the last ridge before the Pass of Maran'toral, when the skies opened up,
dropping cold, wet droplets from the sky.  They all huddled under their
dripping cloaks as they trudged through the gloom, some of the clouds low
enough now that they were walking up into and through them.  The wet clung to
Hoyle's skin and sunk deep into his bones, even through his heavy wool-lined,
oiled leather cloak.

They followed the skinny game trail, where wet skeletal
branches brushed against them, depositing their gifts of moisture among the
group.  It was a miserable hike in all, Hoyle finding his heels were beginning
to blister in his boots due to the damp seeping into his socks.  Visibility was
down to only a few dozen paces at best, and after their encounter with the
craglings, they were all on edge, hands on weapons, eyes scanning the shadows
in the mist.

Finally, in the late afternoon they broke through the clouds
into the bright sunshine.  They also came out of the forest shortly thereafter
into an alpine meadow at the crest of the ridge.  They could see for leagues in
every direction.

Looking to the southwest, they could see the pass below,
shrouded in low clouds like a river of white, running out of the mountains. 
They could see the sky citadel Farad'avor hovering over the cloudy mountain
pass about ten leagues away.  The clouds stopped a league or so short of the
climb to the Imperial fort below the sky citadel, its eight span high walls
barely visible from this distance.

"An army could hide in that soup," Robart muttered
almost to himself, but loud enough the others could hear.

"Maybe that's what they're thinking, but how would they
get past the lower fort with support from the citadel?  It's not like they can
get close enough that they won't be noticed, can they?" Celia wondered.

"Well, if they can get within that one league during
the day, then they can possibly attack at night with the advantage of
surprise." Salrissa ventured.  "But does it really matter?  We can't
really do anything about it from here."  She began to trudge through the
sunny meadow in the direction of the pass and Farad'avor.

The rest of them followed in silence, which seemed to be the
only way the group could get along.  Hoyle thought back to an incident right
after they set out this morning, where Robart and Salrissa began to argue about
who was taking point.  Valena intervened with a suggestion of alternating every
bell or so, best guess of course.  Since then, the tension had been high
between them, with Robart even getting gruff with Celia every once and a
while.  Every time that happened, he felt himself stepping forward to defend
Celia, every time earning an arched eyebrow from her or Salrissa, sometimes
both.  When the women noticed each other they would smile a small smile and
turn to other tasks, generally ignoring both Robart and him, and doing whatever
they wanted anyway.

That fact alone annoyed Robart to no end.  Also, on the rare
time someone offered to help him in some way, he would get angry and drive them
off.  Even Valena had stopped offering to help him, or even talk to him unless
she had to.

Hoyle was enjoying the heat of the sun as they traversed the
meadow, startling a deer away from its drink at a small creek.  After about a
bell he felt almost dry and back to himself.  Even Robart seemed to be in a
better mood, not that anyone was trying to interact with him.

Eventually they got to the tree line, and after about
fifteen minutes, found a small game trail leading in the general direction they
wanted to go.  Hoyle said goodbye to the sun as they entered the shadows of the
broken forest, and then finally they were forced back into the misty clouds and
dripping branches.

They descended even as the light levels dropped as evening
approached, finally casting the mist into a fiery orange-red for a brief few
minutes before the sun dropped behind the mountains. 

Suddenly, they heard noises ahead in the gloom and stopped. 
Salrissa nodded to the others and raised the face shield on her armor, covering
all but her eyes, and vanished into the shadows to one side.  The trees had
become less frequent in the darkening mist, so he figured they must have hit
the edge of the narrow grasslands running up to the pass. 

Hoyle moved against a tree, and gestured for the others to
find cover.  He watched Robart move between two smaller trees about three paces
from him, and saw Celia and Valena crouch down under the branches of another
further back from whence they had come.  He stood very still, listening for
sounds in the deepening gloom.  He heard the muffled sounds of armor jingling
and horses chuffing in the distance.  He heard whispering ahead, as the mist
dissipated somewhat he saw a long column of Goralonian soldiers moving up the
pass.

The mists closed again, obscuring his view.  He could not
believe they were less than fifty paces from the Goralonian army.  He looked
back at Robart, who was standing very still, his eyes wide and angry.  He
suddenly stepped forward as another man appeared with a sword in his back.  He
heard shouts as several other men grabbed Celia and Valena from underneath the
tree branches where they were hiding.

Hoyle was trying to figure out what to do when he felt
something sharp poke him in the back of his neck.  A deeply accented voice
spoke a command, "I twouldn't move if I were ya."  He was grabbed and
pushed out into the open with the others.  Turning slowly he saw that the other
man had a crossbow leveled at him.  At that range, it would go through him
without much resistance.

Hoyle and the others said nothing as the soldiers gathered
up all their obvious weapons, including Celia's amulet and violet magestone. 
This
was becoming too much of a habit
he thought as their hands were bound
behind them.

"Capta'n, I t'ought spies was to be executed?"
inquired one of the men.

The one that had warned Hoyle to behave stepped forward and
backhanded the soldier.  "Yer first mistake was thinkin'," he said,
looking at the rest of the squad, who remained silent.  The soldier spit out
blood and looked at the captain with hatred, but did not act, other than to rub
his jaw.  "They go ta the warlock, he can decide if they is to be killed. 
He may want to find out what they know first."

The day had started out bad, but promised to end much worse.