Trudi Canavan - The Rogue

“I think so,” he replied. “So if a stone can hold a store of magic, is it a storestone?”

Her chin rose. “Not such a stone as you spoke of last night. A careful stone-maker makes a stone hold only enough. Most stones hold only so much, then they break. So to stop the breaking, they are made to hold only enough.” She cupped her hands together. “The stone you spoke of had no stop to it.” She threw her arms wide, fingers splayed. “Stones that don’t break are rare. We do not know how to tell if they won’t. And even if they don’t, they are still dangerous. The more magic inside, the more dangerous – like if a magician takes and holds too much power it is dangerous. Easy to lose control.”

Dannyl straightened in surprise and interest. “Are you saying that a black magician – a magician who knows higher magic – can take so much power that his control over it starts to slip?”

She paused, obviously taking time to translate the less familiar words he’d used, then nodded.

“Long, long ago many peoples lived where the Duna and Sachakans are. They had cities in the mountains where the stones were made, and were always at war with each other. Whoever had the most stones was strongest. One queen lost her stone caves and sought to be a stone herself. She took more and more magic from her people. But she lost control of that power and burned, and that was when the first volcano was born. It turned her people the colour of ash.” She pinched the skin of her arm between finger and thumb and smiled. “Storestones are like magicians. Better to keep a little power, then use, then restock.”

I wonder how much power it takes for a black magician to lose control , Dannyl thought. Clearly more than what Sonea and Akkarin took to defend Imardin. Hmm, I had better let Sonea know about this. We don’t want Imardin turning into a volcano.

“Do not fear,” the woman said, mistaking his worried look. “Nobody makes storestones any more. They stopped trying because it was too dangerous, and then they forgot how to.”

He nodded. “That is good to know.” Then something occurred to him and he frowned. “If a stone can be taught anything a magician can do, can it be taught black magic – what Sachakans call higher magic? Can a stone take magic from a person?”

She smiled. “It can and it can’t. A stone can be made to take magic, but it would not work unless the skin of the person touching it was cut or they were tricked or forced into swallowing it. It will only take as much magic as it is made to take, or it would break. It would have to be able to hold much magic to kill a magician.”

Dannyl shuddered at the thought of having a black-magic-wielding stone in his stomach, sucking out his life. But perhaps it wouldn’t be able to take enough power from him to kill him, and it would soon pass through his system. Still, it would weaken a person, and might do a lot of damage to their insides if it broke.

“What happens when a stone breaks?” he asked.

“It may break into many pieces,” she said, flaring the fingers of both hands. “Or it may crack. If magic is stored, it can go out in many ways. Maybe how the stone meant to send it, maybe unshaped, maybe shaped in another way.”

Dannyl nodded. So either you’d get a warm glow inside or be cut to ribbons and burned up. Nice. Seems to me that these stones could give us as many more ways to do harm as good.

“How much do the Traitors know of making stones?”

Her eyebrows lowered. “All that we know, and more. They once traded with us, but broke our trust by taking the secrets from us.”

He nodded in sympathy. So it was true. He considered what to ask next. He wanted to know how easy or time-consuming the stones were to make, but he figured that would be asking for too much detail. If the stones were difficult to make, that knowledge could be used against the Duna. No, if he was to ask any new questions, he ought to take the opportunity to seek information that might add to his book.

“How do the Duna believe the wasteland was created?”

“Only what you have told us,” she said, shrugging. “Before then we knew only that the Guild made it.”

What else could these people tell him about the history of magic? He’d like to know more about their own origins. Perhaps they could tell him about other ancient peoples who lived in the mountains. Perhaps those who once occupied the ruins of Armje in Elyne.

“I would like to know more about the people you spoke of, who lived in the mountains long ago.”

“What we know are only tales,” she warned him.

“Even so, they are all we have of those times, and tales that last as long as these are usually good ones.”

She smiled. “Very well.” She looked at Yem. “But there are many, many stories. Maybe I tell you another time.”

“After this meeting is done,” Yem agreed. He looked at Dannyl appraisingly. “There is more we wish to tell you,” he said. “Other things than answers to your questions.”

Dannyl looked around at the old men, all of whom were now watching him intently. “Yes?”

“You know that the Traitors stole our secrets. They have grown their knowledge more than we ever have. We are able to make stones that will block a magician from reading a mind. They have stones that can make that magician see thoughts he expects.”

Dannyl’s heart skipped. So that’s how their spies avoid discovery and keep their home hidden! Then a cold sensation flowed over him. If Achati heard this … He would tell his king and then perhaps other Ashaki. All would search their slaves for stones and remove them. They’d kill thousands of slaves – after reading their minds. The Traitor stronghold would be found and destroyed – and Lorkin with it.

Which meant he could not tell Achati. Even if Lorkin was safe, Dannyl could not be responsible for the deaths of so many people. A decision that important is not mine to make, anyway. He felt a guilty wave of relief. It is one for the Guild, and they would most likely defer to the wishes of the Kyralian king, if not all the rulers of the Allied Lands.

If the tribesmen and woman had noticed Dannyl’s surprise and shock, they did not comment on it.

“A half moon cycle ago the Traitors came to our stone caves and broke all the stones,” Yem continued. Dannyl looked up and met the old man’s eyes as he realised what this must mean for the Duna. “We fear they are planning to make war. Maybe to invade Duna. Maybe to fight the Ashaki.”

“Why would they break your stones if they want to start a civil war with the Ashaki?”

“To be sure no magic stones can be used against them.”

“If they invaded Duna the Ashaki would do something about it.”

Yem nodded. “A fight with Duna is a fight with the Ashaki, whether we wish it so or not.”

Dannyl considered the news. Surely the Traitors won’t bother invading Duna before attacking the Ashaki. But perhaps there was a strategic reason for doing so . He’d have to think about that. The Duna people’s motives were clear, however.

“Did you tell me about the mind-read-blocking stones so that I’d warn the Sachakan king?” he asked.

“No,” Yem said firmly. “We seek friendship with Kyralia and the Allied Lands.”

Dannyl looked around the circle in surprise. All stared back at him expectantly.

Yem nodded. “We have long debated this. The Ashaki have learned that invading Duna is costly. The Traitors do not know this. But the Ashaki are more cruel than the Traitors. We know who we prefer as neighbours, but they do not want us.” He smiled grimly. “If Kyralia and Elyne agree, maybe we can help each other.”

Dannyl stared at the old man, who returned his gaze steadily. He thought about all that was being offered and predicted. An alliance. With a people who have stone-making knowledge. He smiled.