bloodyrosemccoy | Scatterstone

Hey, look! A Scatterstone Index! Does this mean ... ?

Yes! I missed posting a Good Thing yesterday, but here's a doozy to make up for it. Almost to the end of this darn thing! I should have one more to go after this. With luck I'll get it written before the sun swells into its red giant phase. Don't want to leave Largo hanging where he is for too long, now, do I?

For now, though, enjoy!

---

The shaft Fodzi and Funro led Nolly to was almost enough to make her lose her nerve. It was dark, almost impossibly narrow, and, Fodzi warned her, alarmingly long. He also, in a misguided attempt to reassure her, confessed that he was pretty certain she wouldn't get stuck--but he gave her a long rope to tie around her waist.

"I'll be able to hear you through the stone," he said. "Let me know if you need pulling back. If you can't talk, give it three sharp tugs."

But for all that, the tunnel crawl had gone quite smoothly. Well--as smoothly as it might. Fodzi had given her a little clear gold stone that glowed enough for her to see her way, which was helpful. He had also decided to help her along her trip by reciting poetry to her, audible through the stone that linked him to her, which ... well, it certainly served to distract her from the darkness closing in around her.

It had the added benefit of making time unreal. But finally, just as the poem's hero used his mighty axe to decapitate the Dragons of Ennui, Fodzi broke off and said, "I think you've arrived."

Nolly put out a hand. The shaft tapered into a cold, hard crevice.

"I think you're right," she muttered.

First she pulled out a cloth to tie over her mouth and nose. Fodzi had assured her this was important.

The spell he'd given her was a stone chip that would fit in a setting atop a thing rather like a corkscrew. The rock at the end of the tunnel was soft enough that Nolly could drill the spell directly into it, at least with the help of some secondary strengthening spells on the corkscrew handle. She was glad that Fodzi was silent as she twisted it in, slid the stone chip into its setting, covered her eyes, and scrambled backward.

Fodzi had taken care to add magic to dampen the noise, but there was still a loud crakling when the main spell took effect. Nolly peeked through her fingers: in the glow of her light the rock face seemed to shiver.

Then it collapsed into sand, flowing past her to a small indentation in the shaft.

She shuddered. She should have kept her eyes closed; some of the finer rock powder was making her tear up. Even through the cloth, she coughed.

She touched the rock wall again. "Fodzi?"

"Did it work?"

Nolly peered through the resulting portal. It opened a little ways out into a bigger chamber. She could see the reflections of moonlit water on the walls.

"Beautifully," she said softly.

"Very good." His voice was fainter than it had been when she was closer to him; she had to strain to hear it. "And now, my adventurous accomplice, you are on your own. This is as far as the rock will carry me."

"I know," she said.

"But remember, Funro's Fyan, as well as I myself, will be ready to charge in the moment we can. Fates be on your side."

"Thank you," Nolly said, trying to fill her voice with confidence. "I'll be waiting for you."

She took a moment to remove the cloth, and wrapped the glowing stone in it. For a moment she considered leaving it behind, but perhaps she would need light. So she pocketed it and wriggled into the well. An apparatus of pulleys and troughs was enough for her to use to climb out onto the grounds.

Kraja's castle loomed in the darkness. The grounds seemed surprisingly fertile; date palms overlooked gardens of fragrant flowers. It was hard to imagine the fortress beyond housed so much misery.

If she kept looking up at it, she'd lose her nerve. Keeping to the shadows, using all the stealth she could muster, she stole toward the looming fortress.

She was surprised to see the inner walls were not seriously patrolled. Kraja must have great faith in his magical shield--not to mention the thick curtain wall. But it was with a certain amount of unease that she slid through the shadows unchallenged and tried doors until she found one unlocked.

It seemed to be a servants' entrance. The sconces on the walls were sparse and sooty. Quietly Nolly made her way along the narrow corridors. Kraja's servants wore livery, so she couldn't blend in; she just had to slink from shadow to shadow and keep out of sight. But the few people she glimpsed seemed to be concerned with their own affairs; no one noticed her. They were dead-eyed, or they were focused inward.

Inward--that was her goal. The diamond would have to be in a central chamber, so Funro said, to focus the magic--or something like that. The corridors seemed an impenetrable maze--but suddenly one of the servants' passages opened into a more official hall so quickly it felt like it had flung her out.

And, to her right, a breeze fluttering the loose hairs from her hopeless braid signaled an outlet to a far bigger chamber.

Nolly paused on the threshold, eyes wide.

Now this was something she'd thought lived only in stories. Built of the same yellow sandstone as the rest of the fortress, the room rose to a peak above a pedestal on which sat an enormous diamond. At the very top of the chamber a grate covered an opening to the sky.

Nolly squinted at the diamond, determined to catch it glowing to signify its power, but it simply sat there, illuminated only faintly by torches and the weak light filtered through the grate above.

You'd think it would be guarded better, she thought. Fodzi had explained that it couldn't be kept locked away; something about the way the magic worked.

If all had gone according to plan, the magic barrier around the thing should be down, and she should be free to step right in and wreck it. Her heart quickened. Could this really be it? She clutched her agate. Just a few more steps and it would be done.

The world spun. Her breath was knocked from her as she was picked up by some invisible force. It felt as though thousands of whiplike arms had yanked her up and backward. She couldn't help but cry out when she struck the wall--needles, those silly spikes, punched into her back. She didn't feel them go deep, but she could feel the blood they'd drawn.

Terrified, she checked for her agate. It was still in her fist, the cord it hung on wrapped around her hand.

She looked around frantically. She was ten feet up the wall, held in place by some invisible force. No matter how she twisted, she could not escape that unseen grip. A light shone below her. Nolly squeezed her eyes shut, blinded by the lantern.

"Well, well," a voice said. "Another one steps over the line."

So there were guards, then. Just not many. But then, now she knew that Kraja barely had need for any at all.

The barrier was not gone. Something was wrong on the other side.

And now, Nolly would pay for that mistake.

#

The day that Manjusha was to capture Kraja, Largo tried to stay out of the way as much as he could.

He knew--he knew--that things would go smoothly. But he couldn't quell the fear in his chest.

"Battle shock," Hruldar had said once, when he'd suddenly had an attack of the shivers. "Happens to the mightiest of warriors. Have enough of a shock, and you never know when you're safe anymore. I expect whatever happened to you qualifies."

"Definitely," Arie said. "I've spoken to Kuen a few times. She said he came this close to stealing your magic. That would've shocked me into fits."

"He did?" Largo's gut did a flip. He didn't like to think of That Night.

"Probably he sensed the magic in you, and that's why he took you in to begin with."

"Why didn't he just take the magic right then?" Orlof demanded.

"He's got to catch you using it. He had to wait."

Remembering the matter-of-fact way she'd said it, Largo shuddered. But, he reminded himself, he'd survived. He was all right. Kuen would take care of things, just like she'd done That Night--

He shied away again.

The house brought him dinner alone. He knew Manjusha and Arie were waiting in the courtyard, primed to swoop down on the wizard at the right moment. The tension was too much for him, so he stayed back, picking at his food and worrying.

A shadow covered his window. Heart clenching, he watched the great dragon take flight. It was time.

"It'll be all right," he told himself. "Manjusha's powerful." Not as powerful as Zvauglarend, but certainly equal to the power he'd felt building in Kraja That Night--

That Night! He kept circling back to it, but why? He hated to think of it. What about it still tormented him?

His fist pounded the table. The table scrambled away, startled. But Largo didn't notice. He had reached his limit. This was absurd.

Fists still clenched, eyes squeezed shut, Largo did something he had refused to do until now: he forced himself to deliberately examine the memory of That Night. The night he'd seen Kraja kill a person; the night the wizard had beaten him. He'd felt the power rushing through the man and seen the crazed eyes and his bare, pockmarked skin and known he was going to--

Wait--

"He wasn't wearing his necklaces," Largo breathed.

The image was clear now. The wizard stripped to the waist, bare of any ornament. No necklaces--but Largo knew there was power. It had crawled all over the wizard's skin--

Inside his skin ...

Oh, no.

A sharp pain on his knuckles made him snap back into the present--and in turn, the House snapped back into place with the groan of resettling stone. In his panic he had begun calling to the stones, and in self-defense the House had used the spoon from his dinner set to give him a rap to bring him back.

"Sorry, House," he said. He stood to pace, trying to channel his frightened energy. "But--he wasn't wearing his necklaces. He still had his power. It--it wasn't in the necklaces."

He'd reached the window. He spun. "But--why? Why would he be so protective of his necklaces if they weren't his real diamonds? He was so obviously--"

He sucked in his breath. "He wanted us to think they were. It's a trap."

He spun, trying to find a face to look at while he spoke to the House. "He can't steal magic unless you're using it. And Manjusha's smart enough not to use hers while she knows he can steal it. Now she thinks he's lost his powers--and that's his plan. House--he's after her magic!"

He looked back out his window, heart pounding. Kraja was after a dragon's magic.

And with their current plan ... he was going to get it.

#

A dozen ideas for how to respond to the guard's mocking grin ran through Nolly's head. She couldn't find one that would help, though, so she simply stayed silent.

"Sneaking in to steal the famous diamond?" he went on, seating himself on the floor. "Or to rescue a friend? Ah, well, no matter. Got quite a surprise, didn't you?"

What had happened on the other continent? Was there simply a delay? Was there still hope? Or had she failed Largo--the Fyan--the wizards--her family?

Her family. Would they wonder what had become of her? Would Ivan survive to tell them?

The guard laughed pleasantly, peeling an apple with a wicked-looking knife.

"You're probably worried that you'll be bound in that web forever," he said. "Well, don't worry. My lord doesn't like to throw away gifts. The webs'll let you down eventually. Then you'll enjoy our hospitality till Lord Kraja returns and decides what to do with you." He smiled. "He likes it when people offer themselves for the Rite."

Nolly's heart pounded, and she was suddenly very aware of how vulnerable it was. It would be so easy to just give up. But they were counting on her. Perhaps they were just late. Perhaps she could still do this--

Plan, she thought. Make a plan.

And, whoever's on the other end of this, hurry up.

Hurry ...

#

At first, when Manjusha coasted in toward the earl's townhouse, Arie thought things were going quite smoothly. From her perch behind one of the dragon's silver horns, she could see a commotion on the grounds.

"Brilliant!" she said, recognizing a couple of the figures. "Kuen's led him outside. This should be easy!"

Others from the household were also out, adding to the chaos, but Kuen and Kraja were both well ahead of them, presenting an excellent target.

Arie leaned forward, feeling her own magic surging within her. "Let's go!" she cried.

She didn't know if Manjusha actually heard her over the wind or if the dragon just had the same idea, but the great wings folded, and Arie was nearly blown off as they plunged into a predatory dive.

Kraja heard them coming, of course. But Arie exulted. There was nothing he could do now.

Manjusha backswept her wings, pulling upright. Kraja staggered slightly under the force of the wind. Arie smiled--

--then saw, as he turned back, a slight, tiny glint in his eye.

Her heart froze. "Manjusha--"

The dragon unleashed a full blast of her magic.

Arie's scream was lost in the skull-rattling shriek of the dragon. Manjusha flailed, flapped wildly. Her head lurched, and Arie was flung away. She spread her own wings--weakened with their autumnal dryness--and caught herself, struggling upright just in time to see her mighty companion crash to the ground.

Horrified, Arie watched the dragon writhe and struggle to keep her magic. The wizard's laughter echoed in her head.

His power. He still had his power.

But how--?

She'd forgotten Kuen. But now she saw that the countess had given her weapon back. With it out, the sprite charged forward.

Kraja glanced over and flicked his fingers. A blast of pure force struck Kuen. She flew back several feet and lay stunned, her weapon falling inactive beside her.

Torn by indecision, Arie looked from one of her friends to the other. She couldn't use magic; she had failed; something had gone wrong--

And then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw it: a small, frantic figure racing toward the wizard.

"Largo," she whispered.

The hobbit charged blindly, seeing nothing but the wizard. Kraja, however, did not see him. Not yet.

She had a split second to think. Even Kraja couldn't divide his attention infinitely. She could give the hobbit a chance.

With a scream of defiance she plunged toward Kraja, flailing and flapping. She'd hoped to get in his face, distract him. But before she was within ten feet of him he struck, flinging her back to the grass.

Well, that was stupid, she thought.

But it was enough.

#

Largo didn't know exactly what was happening when he scrambled through the townhouse gates, but he had some idea. The dragon--that magnificent creature who was to be his reluctant instructor--was losing her magic. He'd been right.

Even Kuen had failed to stop him this time. Largo knew he had no hope of doing better.

But he was tired of being afraid. Of jumping at shadows, of waking up in a cold sweat, of shooing thoughts out of his head. He had run all the way from Manjusha's castle, powered by that thought, and now he could do something with it. So, when Arie made the wizard look away, he launched himself.

It was a mighty leap. Even though his throat was ragged from running, he managed a savage yell as he landed on Kraja's back. He wrapped his legs around the wizard's waist and arms about his neck, trying to drag him down.

Kraja lost his grip on Manjusha. With a choked roar he jammed an elbow into Largo's side. Hands much stronger than Largo's own caught the hobbit's wrists to dislodge them. But the real threat was building under Kraja's skin. He could feel it building--a blast of power that would destroy them all.

He'd felt this before. Back then, in his panic, he'd called the surrounding stones in the cellar to come to his aid, blindly screaming for aid from any source. But now--now he knew he was a wizard himself, knew what he was doing. He could use that fear.

He called Kraja's diamonds to him.

There were powerful diamonds out there--just not where they'd thought. And that power had primed them: they were ready to respond to his call.

With a shriek Kraja thrashed him aside. The wizard arched back, his howl ending with a hideous tearing sound. A cloud of red mist seemed to bloom from him as a diamond carrying a wizard's stolen magic erupted from beneath each of the pockmarks on his skin.

He'd hidden them well. He'd crafted decoys, scarred himself, all to hide the true source of his power where no one could steal it.

No one but Largo.

And by the time his cry of pain and fury had faded, the true stones all swarmed onto the hobbit who had called them.

Largo staggered as the hundreds of little diamonds struck him, hard enough to embed themselves in his skin. The pain registered first. Then the combined power of all the wizards within them drove him to his knees.

He couldn't even scream. The power was trying to fill him, forcing its way in, threatening to split him at the seams. He tried to let it flow back out, but miles away, across the sea, the big heart of the spell was relentlessly driving the power to its host.

He was going to break apart.

But, a tiny part of his mind said, satisfied, at least I faced the wizard.

And--I hope--at least I helped Nolly.

#

Nolly was ready when she fell.

In truth she hadn't expected to fall. She'd come to believe her fate was sealed. But her own irrepressible nature refused to completely give up, and so, when she suddenly dropped, she was ready.

The spiky wall scraped her back, and a stab of agony went through her left leg when she hit the ground. But Nolly could worry about that later. Right now she had to concentrate.

She still had the agate, and its cord, in her hand. The guard was scrambling to his feet. She had just a second, but she'd spent her time wrapped in that invisible web planning what she was about to do.

Standing carefully, ignoring the pain in her leg, she twirled the cord like a sling and hurled the agate at the diamond.

She had worried she might miss. She needn't have. She had known how to do this since she was a little girl. And the stones Largo found her always flew true.

With a sound like the end of the world, the diamond shattered.

Nolly wanted to stop, to pay attention to her furious leg, to watch the stunning image of each of the shards shattering in turn, smaller and smaller, into dust. But the guard was coming at her.

She'd considered what to do about that, too.

As part of her Fyan training, she'd been granted practice dance wands--not the sacred ones a Fyan woman carried, not yet, but a pair of actual wands. She'd practiced the women's dance with them, and Zeia and Zorna had even come up with some moves that might work better for someone of a hobbit's stature.

The wands wouldn't do much good. But Nolly had also taken with her, as a token, Zeia's own true daggers.

And now, as the furious, frightened man bore down on her, she pulled them out and, launching herself from her good foot, drove herself into him.

Zorna had told her where to aim. It was harder than it looked; her left dagger glanced off the man's greaves. But the dagger in her right hand plunged into his inner thigh near where his legs met, driven more by his own momentum than hers. She clumsily yanked it back out, and was shocked when a warm spray followed it.

The man tripped over her and sprawled, clutching his leg. Nolly staggered a few feet and fell to her knees, unable to keep her pain at bay any longer.

She looked back at the guard, so smug moments ago. Now he struggled unsuccessfully to stanch the blood, which was spurting inexorably from the deep slice. His eyes were filled with hatred.

"Little bitch," he said. "You've killed me."

"Sorry," she said.

He tried to stand, swayed, and collapsed. At first he started crawling toward her, and she scooted away in a bizarre parody of a chase. But after just a few moments, he stopped trying to get at her and just slumped.

Nolly watched, transfixed, as he went pale, and the hatred left his eyes, and he lay down wearily. After a few moments, the blood ceased pouring out of him.

She wasn't really very sorry.

The sound of the shattering diamond had awakened the fortress. But the shouts and footsteps echoing through the halls now seemed hazy and unreal. It was only when huge hands seized her arm and tried to drag her upright that she reacted, twisting, screaming, and slashing wildly with her daggers.

The grip relaxed. Nolly fell back to the floor, and the pain of her broken leg arced up like lightning to explode in her brain. She almost fell on one of Zeia's daggers as she caught herself: her fists were wrapped around them so tightly.

The haze became a mist, then a fog, even as the pandemonium around her grew louder. She was in danger. She should get out of there. She had to find Zeia, or Ivan, or Fodzi, or--

The fog filled her. She let her head sink to the floor as the Fyan joined the battle.

She didn't actually lose consciousness. She just ... didn't pay much attention to what was going on at this point. She listened to the white noise of battle for a while, promising herself that it'd be only a few moments until she pulled herself back up.

Before she could, though, a huge pair of black eyes and a giant red grin floated into her field of vision.

"And here's the great hero herself!" Fodzi cried, wiping his gore-caked axe blade on his blanket. How the blazes could he see through those dark spectacles with all this fog?

"Did we win?" she asked.

"We are indeed teetering on the brink of victory, thanks entirely to your brazen valor."

"That didn't take long," she said with surprise.

Fodzi raised his eyebrows. "Say, my courageous comrade-in-arms, you do seem a bit pale. Is it possible that you need me to reassure you of our triumph, or is something else causing you this distress?"

"I think my leg is broken," said Nolly.

"Is it, now?" He set his axe aside and knelt. "Let's have a look."

"Also I killed that man," she said.

He'd pulled a knife from its sheath somewhere beneath his now-reddened blanket and was slicing her pant leg. He glanced briefly at the dead man nearby. "Ah," he said. "First one?"

She nodded.

"Ah, I remember my first blood," he said nostalgically. "The great reshaping of the soul that followed was a rare experience. I'll read you the poem I wrote about it later. Some of my most impassioned work. It is in Triple Peak Dwarvish, of course, but I'm sure Common could reflect most of the nuance. Hmm ... 'Behold, ye warriors, my changéd substance--"

The threat of Fodzi's poetry was enough for her to realize that she was going to live through this whole great mess. Though while she was still considering how she felt about that, there was a sudden, wrenching blast of pain in her leg.

"Agh," she said. "Did you just set my leg?" She'd broken her wrist once as a child. She remembered that pain.

"Apologies for the lack of warning. I had thought that the anticipation might be worse than the moment of setting." Fodzi smiled. "And I admit, I had hoped you would be distracted by my stirring words."

Nolly didn't want to pass out, so she tried to keep herself focused on the world beyond her and the dwarf. Funro and his men were mopping up, and now she saw more than just Fyan: freed prisoners, in varying states or combinations of wretchedness, righteous fury, and true glee at having their magic back. A group of people in Kraja's livery fled the fiery wrath of one such mage, and another with a glowing sword was storming purposefully past Fodzi.

"They're free," she said in wonder.

"That will be your legacy," Fodzi said. "I will certainly help spread the tale of your heroism."

She shook her head. Heroism? She'd done it for Largo. She didn't want to think that he could have been among these people.

A cry from behind her made her twist around.

It was Zeia.

The mage was a bit bedraggled herself. Her normally lustrous hair was now flat and dull, and her cheeks were sunken. But her eyes were shining. "Nolly? Nolly!"

And she flew across the room to fling her arms around the hobbit.

Nolly burst into tears.

They stayed in their tight embrace even as Fodzi did up Nolly's leg, Zeia murmuring half-formed questions that Nolly could not answer. Finally, though, as the dwarf's attention was firmly on her leg, Nolly whispered to Zeia, "I brought your daggers."

Zeia drew back a bit to look at her in surprise.

"I used them," Nolly added. "I know that's not really polite, but ..."

Zeia hugged her again. "I understand. Thank you."

"And another familiar face," Fodzi said when he glanced up. "Ho, Ivan! Someone here for you!"

Zeia tensed, ready to go to her brother. But before she did, she leaned in to Nolly again.

"As soon as we get back to Chadrafun, I'm going to have the smith make you a pair of your own," she whispered.

And she stood to greet Ivan, and their strange, thrown-together family was back together.

If only Largo were here, she thought. If only I could know what's happening with him.

She'd met the Fyan, and learned some of their ways. She'd even made friends in Ivan and Zeia. She'd seen magic and wonder. She'd been to the sea. She'd admired the mosaics of Chadrafun. She had walked through the desert. She had even helped save wizards from an evil man. She'd discovered that Largo--her Largo--was a wizard.

"Fodzi?" she said.

Fodzi had taken a spear from a dead guard and had managed to snap its shaft with his powerful arms; now he was binding up her leg with it. "Hm?"

"I am very glad I came with the Fyan," she said. "It's been quite an adventure. But you know what?"

He smiled, showing just the tips of his red teeth through his wild beard. "What's that?"

"I think I want to go home."

#

At last! Part 14--the FINAL PART--is up!