The Crown of Stones: Magic-Price (32 page)

“Actually I do. Life. Death. Fate. They are yours to command and mishandle. Not your gods. You Shinree put far too much faith in them.”

“It’s funny how everyone that speaks of faith and trust seems to have betrayal on their minds.”

“You should take my advice, Troy.”

“Fuck your advice.”

Draken made a low, angry sound. “Then rot.”

THIRTY

I
wasn’t sure how long I’d been lying on my back in the rain, or when the rain even started. It was nothing but a fine mist now, but my hair and clothes were soaked. The fire was out and it was almost dawn. There was just enough light to see the covering of branches we’d lashed together and wedged into an overhang of rock to serve as shelter for the night.

The sun didn’t quite reach inside, beneath the bows, where Malaq and Jarryd were sleeping. They hadn’t stirred yet, but they would soon. Then we’d get back on the road, where I’d spend my day pretending I wasn’t looking for
her
in every shadow.

It was all I did now. Bide my time until she came to me again.

My mind was deteriorating so fast now. I was afraid that when we finally reached Kabri, I wouldn’t give a damn about it anymore. I was afraid I wouldn’t even be me.

A faint, shuffling disturbed my thoughts. On instinct, I reached for my sword and found an unfamiliar, heavy, black boot standing on the sheath.

Another delusion,
I thought. But I changed my mind as I looked up past the man’s breeches and the edges of his cloak, to the swords, laden with stones, hanging off his hips. Rows of smaller gemstones studded his leather gloves and a plain, bronze mask hid his face from view. Escaping from one edge of the mask was a single shock of colorless hair.

I rolled the other way and stood up. “I was wondering when you’d show.”

His deep voice filtered out from behind the mask. “I thought we should talk.”

We were of a similar height so I looked him in the eyes. All I could see was magic. “I’m surprised you came in person.”

“I considered inhabiting one of your companions, as I did Roe. But that might have gotten us off to a bad start.” At my glare he gestured at the shelter. “They are unharmed.”

“That’s good of you.” I bent over and grabbed Sienn’s bottle from my pack.

“Not that I understand why you care. You can’t believe they would have the same concern for you, a Shinree? You’re nothing to them. Especially the Rellan. You’re a weapon, a tool for regaining his kingdom. A thing to be used and thrown away.” The man shook his head and another piece of white hair came loose from the mask. “It doesn’t matter. The Rellans, the Kaelish, even the Langorians, are the past.
We
are the future. We will shape the world. Dominate it. Advance it in ways the lesser races couldn’t possibly conceive of.”

I nodded like I was picturing his description. While what I was really doing was wondering how his big head fit in the mask. “Mind if I ask who rules in this imaginary future of yours? Because if it’s a power-hungry Shinree and an insane, Langorian tyrant, you better take me out now. I’d rather not live to see it.”

An emotion I couldn’t place moved him forward. “I will not have you dead.”

“I know of only one reason to conjure shadows.”

“Those were merely to get your attention, to convince you to see things my way.”

“How long were you planning on convincing me? Until I stopped breathing?”

“If necessary. But perhaps when I returned the air to your lungs, you would have been a bit less petulant.”

“Don’t count on it.” Pulling the stopper out of the bottle, I sat down on a small grouping of rocks. “What of Malaq? Would you have saved him from the shadows?”

“Taiven’s bastard? That half-breed means nothing to me.”

“That half-breed is Draken’s brother. Or aren’t you two cozy anymore?”

“Draken has no patience for fools. Malaq Roarke elected the dangerous path with you over safe passage with Krillos. There is nothing more to be said.”

“So, I stay alive because I’m Shinree. But everyone else is fair game?”

“You leave me little choice.”

“As you leave me.”

His magic-filled eyes tightened. “Would I come here if I were that easy to kill?”

“Yeah, I think you would. I think you assume that I share your misguided sense of brotherhood. And you want something. So let’s get it over with.” I took a drink and pushed to my feet. Reaching into my shirt for the cord, I pulled the obsidian out so it was visible. “Come on. I’ll even let you have the first move.”

His breath came hard and fast as he stared at the shard. He stood a while, mentally drooling over it. But that’s all he did.

“I don’t get it,” I said. “I keep making that offer, yet no one takes me up on it. Why is that?”

With what seemed like great effort, he lifted his eyes. “The obsidian’s aura has merged with yours. It clings to you on a level that you aren’t ready to recognize.”

“Meaning?”

“You must remove it voluntarily. Another can do so only after you are dead. And I won’t give that order. Your potential for greatness is far too promising to waste.”

“Thanks. But you’re really not my type.” His responding growl of irritation made me grin. “Since you mentioned it though, does this potential of mine have anything to do with what you just said…about the stone’s aura merging with me? How is that even possible after I’ve cast it out?” I pointed the bottle at him. “You can throw ‘why’ in there too if you like.”

“I’d rather not. What I can tell you is that the obsidian identifies you as a potential path toward re-unification with the crown. It wants to be whole again.”

“It’s just a rock. It doesn’t want anything.”

He laughed at my ignorance. “You have so much to learn.”

Grinding my teeth at his gall, I said, “Okay then,
wise-one
. How did you get to be so damn well-informed? I’ve never heard of any writings that speak of the Crown of Stones in such detail.”

“Of course not. Your knowledge of our history is limited, as with most slaves.”

“I’m not a slave.”

“It would be easier if you were. Then you might have learned at least some semblance of obedience. For, if you don’t start cooperating soon, life will become quite unpleasant.”

“From where I’m sitting, it’s been unpleasant for a while now.”

“It could be worse. Don’t you understand that? I’m holding Draken back for you. If I can’t make you yield, he will kill you—as slowly and painfully as possible.”

“That’s what the dream-weave is for? I’m no good to you dead, but if I’m crazy I’ll just hand over the shard and follow you right off the fucking deep end.”

“I couldn’t have you continuing to oppose me. I had to do something.”

“To convince me?” I corked the bottle and dropped it. Leaning forward, elbows on my knees, arms crossed, I thought about the knives in my braces and wondered if he could cast faster than I could throw.
And if he’s dead
,
will the dreams stop
?

“The dreams will worsen,” he said, as if divining my thoughts. “Your fixation on her will grow beyond tolerance. You’ll see her when she isn’t there. Hear her voice when others speak. Perhaps, you already do.”

“She isn’t real.”

I heard him sneer. “If you surrender, I will stop the spell. You have my word.”

“I’d rather have your head.”

“Gods,” he snarled, “how can you be so cavalier? Inside of two, maybe three months, you will be crawling on the ground begging for mercy. And if you think to break the spell, that won’t be easily done. There is too much intent behind it.”

“Your intent or Draken’s? Or are they one in the same now?”

He didn’t expect that. Recoiling, the man dropped his gaze. “You wouldn’t understand.” He turned away. As I stared at him, watching the rain
pick up, my choice of words and his lack of a ready answer, brought to mind what Jarryd said back in Kael. His idea, about a Shinree sharing souls with a Langorian, had seemed preposterous then.

It didn’t seem anything near that now.

“You’re tied to him, aren’t you?” I asked. “That’s how Draken’s madness was tempered. You joined souls.” He didn’t answer and I pressed him. “You gave Draken of Langor a part of your sanity, your personality, and it tipped the scales. It gave him back what I took from him ten years ago with the Crown of Stones.”

“It was the only way.”

“Son of a bitch.” I hadn’t wanted to be right. “How much of Draken’s madness is in you?”

“Enough to make him fit to rule.”

“Draken was
never
fit to rule.”

“Do you forget that with our bond I have his memories?”

“That must be fun.”

“Draken was always a spoiled, malicious sort. A callous, violent bully, if you will. But you, Troy…you’re the one that ruined him.”

For a second I was too pissed to speak. “Are you fucking serious? You’re blaming me for what he’s done?”

“Draken was not always as he is now. He was shaped…by his father, by kingship, by war…by you. Your spell changed him. It’s changed us both.”

“No. That was your doing—you made his madness your own. Not me.”

“You shouldn’t take offense. I’m actually quite fascinated by the impact one little working can have on so many lives. What Draken garnered from me in our exchange, his intimate knowledge of our people…I irrevocably changed his perceptions of us. Then I put him on his throne. The King of Langor is indebted to a Shinree.” He laughed to himself in cold, dry amusement. “The power our kind hold is far greater than what can be contained in a stone. You’ll see,” he said with promise.

“I hope so. Because I certainly don’t now. I don’t have a fucking clue how you could do it. How you could resurrect one of our people’s most sacred traditions for that merciless bastard. After all the suffering he’s brought to this world?” I walked over, gripped the man’s shoulder, and spun him around.
“Tell me you were forced into this somehow, coerced, tortured, anything. You couldn’t have done this freely.”

“I did this for the Shinree!”

I looked at him, baffled. “What are you hiding? Take off the mask.”

“No.” He yanked loose. “Not yet.”

“Take it off. I want to see the face of the man reckless enough to risk his soul for…?” I stopped. “What exactly are you getting out of this?”

“When Draken is named High King he will revoke the slave laws. There will be no more breeding. No more
Kayn’l
to make us impotent and weak. The Shinree will have their own place in the world, their own land. We will have a new empire.”

“With you as our ruler? Is that what Draken promised you?”

“We will regain our place. And no one shall take it from us again.”

“Damn. And I thought I was losing touch with reality.” Laughing, I backed away. “You know, I’m not blind. Or indifferent,” I added, thinking of Sienn. “But what you’re doing…Draken’s soul has twisted whatever good intentions you once had.”

“You think me a monster.”

“Yes, I do. Jem.” Beneath the cloak his body stiffened. “Yeah, I know who you are. But what I don’t get is how you go from leading a group of thieving dissidents to thinking you can rule an entire race.” Walking back to my blanket, I picked up my sword belt and put it on. Jem didn’t try to stop me. We both knew I wasn’t going to draw on him. With the magic he was channeling a blade would be useless. I just felt better wearing it. “Where did you come from? You couldn’t have been free all this time or you would have been stirring up trouble long before now.”

“I was as all the others, a slave without a name. I was nothing.” He stared a long moment at the ground between his boots. Head bent slightly forward, rain gathered and ran like tears down the sides of his mask. “It’s ironic, really. She was simply trying to bring her brother back. She had no idea what freeing me of the
Kayn’l
would lead to. No vision, no notion what Draken and I could accomplish together. And no spine to see it done. He should have killed the useless bitch instead of marrying her to the Kaelish.”

“Wait. Are you talking about Queen Jillyan, Draken’s sister? She freed you?”

Jem shirked my question. “Think about it. A land united by one king and allied with the Shinree people. No threat would be worthy of our time.”

“It’s certainly ambitious. But you can’t believe Draken will let you live to see it.”

Jem whirled around to look at me full on and more hair tumbled free of the mask. The short strands hung down across the bronze plate; dark before the rain even hit them.

Magic-scars,
I thought,
from the crown. Like mine.

“Draken is
Nef’taali
,” he said, matter-of-fact. “He would never harm me.”

“Even carrying half his soul, you still can’t see how black it is?”

“He would never harm me,” Jem said again, but there was a strange, sad helplessness in his voice. I couldn’t tell if the man was naïve, confused, or just plain delusional. Regardless, he was dangerous. I couldn’t take him on with Jarryd and Malaq so close. I had to put him off.

“So,” I said, “you’re here to offer me a job? I’ve never built an empire before. What’s the pay like? Hope it’s better than what you gave Taren Roe.”

“I don’t appreciate being ridiculed.”

“Then stop talking in riddles. Tell me what you want. I’ll consider your offer.”

“You aren’t ready to consider anything. You’re still clinging to your first instinct to kill me. You would have tried by now, except you’re afraid to cast with your companions here. Even to stop a monster such as me.”

“Unlike you, Jem, I don’t take casualties lightly.”

“You talk of the dead like they are all my doing, like you have no hand in this.”

“I didn’t raid Kabri. I didn’t kill Raynan Arcana. Or Sarin.”

“No, you boast and threaten, waste my time with insults and bravado—because war is nowhere in sight. It’s a memory to you. A notion. But I promise you, Troy, Rella
burns
. It
bleeds
while you stand here judging and defying me.” Crossing the camp in long, angry strides, Jem stood before me. His breath raged wild through the mask. “Would you like to see? To know what your stubbornness has wrought?” Raising an arm to the side, he opened his gloved hand. His eyes on me began to glimmer and shine. “Would you like to witness their suffering? Count how many die while you hold onto that little trinket around your neck out of spite?” Whispers left his lips. He traced a
shape in the air with his finger, once, twice, three times. On the fourth time around an outline formed in the dark. It was faint at first, but after another pass or two, four connected lines of dim, white light came into being.