Stonewiser (71 page)

The sensation that scoured Kael's mind was as odd as it was unnatural, sudden, unpleasant, invasive and disturbing. He could feel her mind's eye scouring his brain, her claws raking his skull even though the woman's hands were nowhere near him.

“A land-healer, are you?” the woman said. “Convenient. Of course, there's hardly ever such thing as convenience when it has all been carefully ordained.”

Ordained?
What by the rot was the woman talking about? He was having trouble breathing, let alone thinking, but he trained his eyes on her and tried to kick her out of his mind.

“It's a fair effort you're making to boot me out,” she said. “Notable but useless. You're also a roamer, I see. That's just good training. Yet there's more to you than meets the eye. What is it?” A sly smile overtook her face. “Of course. You've got wiser blood in you, don't you? It's diluted enough to grant you passage, but strong enough to make you ideal. Was it your father? No, no, allow me.” She tilted her upturned nose towards Kael and inhaled deeply. “Your mother? How delightful. She was a stonewiser. A pure one. The maternal line is always strong to perfume the blood. I bet your blood would be… delicious.”

The sight of her fat little tongue sweeping over her lips had every hair on Kael's body standing on end. Whoever—no—
whatever
she was, the woman knew way too much about him. Kael's senses homed in on the escape route he had identified from the outset, a quick leap over the beam to his right, then a sprint through the outermost formation—

“Don't even think about it,” the woman warned. “You, I'd like alive.”

It was alarming news, but defiance was a better option than submission or fear. He needed to keep her talking. Whatever little knowledge he could gain from this encounter could make the difference between finding his son and losing him forever.

“I don't understand,” he said. “What good can the life of an ‘ordinary mutt’ be to you?”

“Cocky, aren't you? Mocking me so easily. You've got steel for guts and granite for a backbone. I'll give you that. But I was never a kindly soul and even courage can be reckless.”

“I mean you no offense,” Kael said. “I simply find your interest in me surprising, that's all. Why would a powerful creature like you cling to a common man like me?”

“Because I need you to do the goddess's bidding.”

“The goddess's bidding? Or your own?”

“They are one and the same.”

“Somehow, I doubt it,” Kael said. “I want nothing to do with you or your stones.”

“What if I told you that doom is coming?”

Kael scoffed. “Predicting doom is always the surest bet.”

“It doesn't frighten you?”

“Doom is the coward's argument, the fear monger's tale, the easy victory.”

The woman's face darkened. “Are you so careless as to provoke me with your insults?”

“I'm not insulting you. I'm making a point. Sooner or later we all die. Sooner or later, what we are, what we built, what we treasure, it all passes. Doom is unavoidable and therefore, irrelevant.”

“Irrelevant? In all my years I've never heard anyone say that. But I'll admit it—yours is an intriguing notion.”

“Seeing all that's wrong with the world is not so difficult,” Kael said. “Seeing all that's right with the world and growing it, now that's a chore.”

“Reason and sense to match brawn and guts.” The woman whistled. “I see now why it must be you. Oh, yes, my wager is most definitively on you.”

“And what race will you have me run?”

“The goddess's own.”

“What if I said no?”

“You can't say no.”

“The goddess would give me a choice.”

“Choice?” The woman laughed. “What little you know of stones and goddesses. I need you, Kael of Ars. And you will serve.”

“I don't bend the knee to any man, or woman, for that matter.”

“Who says I'm either one of those?”

The pain that struck Kael was as sudden as it was devastating. His muscles cramped. His joints gave way. His knees hit the floor, sending jolts up his spine. He could have sworn that stakes had skewered his calves, pinning him down to the floor. He had experienced more than his fair share of pain in his time, but this was excruciating. He curled over his stomach, bit down on his lips and swallowed the scream surging up his throat.

The woman was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down her face. “Forgive my methods. I favor suffering over persuasion any day. Let's get this done. I might have forever, but you don't.”

“What do you want from me?” Kael rasped.

“Her,” the woman said.

“Who?”

“She who will defy the stones and destroy the world.”

The realization hit Kael like a kick to the balls. She wasn't after him. He should have known better. She wanted who she needed, the only one who might be capable of mustering the power to do her bidding, the only woman he'd ever called his own. His mind was spinning furiously. He wasn't going to surrender her. Not her. Not ever.

“What if I told you that a day will come when nothing but you will stand between her and the end of times?” the woman asked.

“I wouldn't believe you.” He tried to rip his aching knees from the floor but failed. He took a deep breath, succeeding only in scalding his lungs. He had to think clearly. He had to keep his wits straight.

“You'll know the signs,” the woman said.

“The signs for what?”

“It has all been told before. Her name will become the path upon which the faithful will travel. She will make life from death, think with her heart and feel with her mind. She will lie with the truth, cheat with devotion, lose to win and win to lose. Her life will be the goddess's last stand, but her death, now… her death will be the world's last blessing, bringing future to past.”

“You can't sway me with musty old tales,” Kael said. “The Wisdom is nothing to me.”

“The Wisdom is everything to you. You'll do what you must to make it happen.”

“To make what happen?”

“Her demise, of course.”

The words punched the breath out of his lungs. “No.”

“It's too late,” the woman said. “Her death is already in you.”

“No,” he said again, but a sight flashed before his eyes, an indisputable vision of Sariah dead in his arms. A sharp pain twisted his heart and squeezed his throat. Terror inched on his mind's fringes like an avenging army, cold and unforgiving. “I would never—”

The smile on the woman's face was just another omen for disaster. “Fate is not always arbitrary. Common sense. You can always rely on it to finish the job.”

“I can't—”

“You know her better than anyone. Who better suited to kill her than you?”

“I won't—”

“Oh, but you will. She must die. Like we did. Like
I
did.”

He knew it couldn't be. He wouldn't do it. Meliahs knew he would never be able to survive her death, let alone cause it. Yet he also realized that the present and the future had been woven together in a tangled knot to bring about disaster, true, unavoidable and done.

Kael's mind raced. Had the woman invested others with the same task? What could he do to prevent what he'd seen from happening? A sense of pragmatic logic prevailed. He and Sariah had defied worse odds before. Together, they had been able to overcome the most lethal of troubles. Together, they would be able to beat this newest challenge as well.

“I don't think so,” the woman said. “You won't be able to share this news with her.”

“What?”

“You can try, of course. You will. But you won't be able to. You'll see.”

Kael refused to believe the woman. She didn't understand the indestructible bond that he and Sariah shared. After all they had been through, nothing could keep them from each other, not even the stones and their damn tricks.

“Dare you think your bond is stronger than the might of the stones?” The woman snorted. “You're in for a hard, rough road.”

Kael considered his options. What if the woman's outrageous rantings turned out to be true? He could kill himself to avoid killing Sariah, but then he'd only be surrendering her to someone else's blade. He couldn't begin to fathom killing her, but if she died he would die of grief all the same. Or he could try to defy the stones, knowing himself lethal to the stonewiser he had pledged to protect, the enemy who against all odds had conquered his prejudices and claimed his heart, the woman he cherished.

By the rot. He had always lived life by his own leave. Was he ready to relinquish his will to the stones’ fickle creatures?

“Do you know why the stones grieve?” the woman said. “Not for a soul, I'll tell you that much. The stones don't grieve for the passing of a lowly woman or the madness of a smitten man. They don't mourn death, or lost love, or broken dreams, or loneliness or despair. Yet you will make them wail. For you, the stones will weep.”

“You will not command my will,” Kael swore, to her, to Sariah, to himself. “You can't.”

“Have you ever heard the stones cry?” The woman shook her head sadly. “It's a ghastly wail, a soul-killing sound, a hope-ending affair. All will be done when you hear the lament of the stones. She will be done as well.”

The cavern's ceiling retreated, revealing the somber gray sky and allowing the drizzle to dampen his face. It felt like defeat raining on his cheeks, like misery drenching his existence. The ground rumbled beneath his knees, gathering in an imminent explosion that would eject him out of the ruins, hurling him toward the fate he dreaded.

“I won't do it,” Kael spat between clenched teeth. “Do you hear me? I won't.”

“Farewell, my newest Wisdom maker,” the woman said. “May you die well.”

Acknowledgments

 

As always, my sincere thanks to:

My awesome family, for the huge amounts of love and the steady supply of support; my editor, Peter Gelfan, who is not afraid to cut through my writer's density with a shear of clarity and perspective; my friend and proofer, Linda Au, whose passion for writing is only matched by her passion for writing perfectly; the folks at Mermaid Press, for their hard work and commitment; Debbi Zimmerman, whose patience with both printer and writer is legendary; my doting husband, who insists he can cook just so that I can write; my patient son, who will eat what his father cooks with resigned humor; my audacious daughter who takes matters into her own hands with a much appreciated kitchen coup d'état; and especially to my brilliant readers, who share in my mind's adventures with such generosity and enthusiasm.

The Author

 

Dora Machado is the author of the fantasy novel
Stonewiser: The Heart of the Stone.
She graduated Phi Beta Kappa from Georgetown University, but thinks that motherhood is by far the more challenging and rewarding of her accomplishments. Although she was born in Michigan, she grew up in the Dominican Republic, where she developed a bilingual fascination for writing, a preference for history, a sobering perspective of the human condition that permeates all of her stories, and a taste for Merengue. As a teenager she had the honor of meeting Mother Teresa while volunteering with her charities in the barrios of Santo Domingo. After a lifetime of straddling such compelling but different worlds, fantasy is a natural fit to her stories. She lives in Florida with her indulging husband, her two extraordinary teens, her awesome exchange students, three very opinionated cats and a gold fish. She loves to hear from her readers and can be contacted at
[email protected]