Firestone Read online

  From what Sephonei could decipher so far, blues were sadness or tiredness or maybe boredom, she wasn’t sure. Green definitely meant happiness and focus. Yellow was either frustration, worry, or some form of excitement or loss of control. Red was anger, fear, or some extreme heightened emotion. She hadn’t quite figured out what purple was. The saturated colors that she had only seen surrounding the mystical creatures, the colors she didn’t recognize, she could only guess at. She suspected they had something to do with being mystical. Abil’s and Sin’s gray auras mystified her as well, while her music’s rainbow aura apparently mystified others.

  Anger and resentment were the strongest in the peryton’s aura, but another one caught Sephonei by surprise. She couldn’t be sure, but it was like the peryton was offended. Sephonei thought about it; she would be offended too, if she had ropes strapped around her neck. The peryton must be intelligent to have such a feeling.

  Sephonei felt sorry for the creature, but she also felt good; they rescued him from the dragaodon. They would try to heal his wing, and maybe she could even befriend him.

  Sephonei watched as Abil struggled with the peryton. She remembered what he had said when they first reached the outpost, when he almost knocked her in the water. He made fun of her lute, but her lute was what saved him.

  A wide grin spread on her face. She turned to Abil. “Guess I didn’t need that flute after all, hey?”

  The coastal winds felt like sandpaper, and the heat of the sun beat down on Sephonei. She was getting no closer to taming the peryton. She should have had better results after two full days of training.

  “Sephonei, grab the rope and tell him to rear down—give it a yank if you have to!” Shantae called out.

  Sephonei did as instructed. In response to the yanked rope, the peryton bucked, and Sephonei was tossed in the mud.

  “This is pointless!” she said, with a face full of mud. “He’s too wild. He doesn’t want to be here—he feels like a prisoner.”

  Shantae walked over to Sephonei as the peryton turned indignantly and grazed on a few clumps of brown grass. “Why did you say he feels like a prisoner? How can you tell?”

  “It’s obvious. He’s here against his will. We’ve him tied up, an’ he can’t leave if he wants to.” Sephonei said as she wiped the mud from her eyes.

  “I know the feeling,” Shantae said under her breath. She walked over to the peryton and hummed to calm him.

  Sephonei was glad Semessa and Shantae had stayed at the outpost. The Quartermaster had offered their services to the Crystal Hunters. They would stay and help tame the peryton, then they would guide them to Bentwood Forest. There, the Crystal Hunters would part ways with the sebtaurs.

  Sensing Shantae needed a change of topic, Sephonei asked, “so how big are the mountains? How many days to cross them?”

  Shantae turned and strode to Sephonei. “It depends on how fast you’re traveling. If you fly by peryton express, it could take less than a week. If you’re walking, then it would take significantly longer.”

  Sephonei nodded. “Have you passed through the mountains before?”

  Shantae shook her head, smiled, and winked. “No. I’m more of a savannah type of sebtaur.”

  Sephonei tried to wipe the mud from her pants. “Pery, come on. I’m full of mud now.”

  Shantae cocked her head and raised an eyebrow. “Pery?”

  “Ai. That’s what I’m gonna call him,” Sephonei said.

  She walked over to Pery and looked up. Standing beside him made her feel small. On her tip-toes, she barely came to his shoulder. His nostrils flared, and her hood blew off. Pery’s eyes darted from Shantae to Sephonei, then back again. They were wide and scared. She read his aura—it was blue with flecks of yellow and orange. He was confused. His overall temperament changed to sadness more than anything else. Pery strained at the rope around his neck and looked to her with pleading eyes.

  Sephonei got an idea. She turned to Shantae. “Let go of the rope.”

  Shantae looked confused and instinctively tightened her grip. “Ahh, kuk. As soon as I let go, he’s gone. Look at his wing. It’s mostly healed.”

  Sephonei looked at his wing; aside from some blood markings, the whitish-gray wing had healed nicely. She reached for her lute then said, “He’s sad, scared, an’ confused. I think if we let go of the rope, he might trust us.”

  “Or he might bolt. I don’t know about this. I don’t think this is a good idea.” Shantae looked to the Quartermaster’s tent and stared for a long while. She winced but released the rope.

  Pery eyed the rope then reared up. He mewed and charged past Sephonei—the wind from his wide body whooshing past her. He circled the meadow on the outskirts of the Quartermaster’s lodge.

  “He’s going to bolt! Stop him!” Shantae yelled.

  Pery spread his wings—at full width, they nearly filled the meadow. He vaulted and soared and spiraled high above. The tied end of the rope around his neck dangled below.

  Sephonei struck at her lute, and the tune echoed off the sandy, red cliff walls that circled the flats of the outpost. Pery soared then lowered to the ground and tucked in his wings.

  Shantae was in a trance. Pery was bewitched, but instead of being still, he was drawn to Sephonei. Walking backwards, she called to Pery. He followed. She moved through the meadow and kept her tune. Sephonei scanned his aura—it had changed to a brilliant green; he was happy.

  “Come on, Pery,” Sephonei instructed, as she raced through the meadow with the lumbering peryton prancing behind her.

  Sephonei stopped strumming her lute. Pery stopped following and looked around. His aura stayed green. He came to Sephonei, tipped his head to her, and nuzzled against her cheek.

  She giggled from the tickle of his neck fur. “I love you too, big guy.”

  The commotion had caused Ku-aya and Semessa to come running. They stood by Shantae and called out, “It’s about time! We need to get out of here. Tomorrow, we ride!”

  The crashing waves hummed as the tide receded. The sand and air were cool and smelled of brine. The fire crackled and snapped, highlighting the forms on Ku-aya’s scar and mesmerizing Sephonei. Balin, the Quartermaster, had prepared a feast of grilled meats, exotic fruits, and a soft mashed grain. They dug a firepit on the beach, and everyone ate and shared stories of past adventures.

  Balin looked to Sephonei and gave her a wink. “So, li’l miss, Ku-aya tells me you ’ave quite the ability.”

  Sephonei looked to the Quartermaster. “Ai. Until a few days ago, I didn’t think it was that great. Now I see how it can be helpful. I don’t quite understand it though.”

  Ku-aya snorted. “Helpful? This is a game changer, yaa!”

  Abil huffed and leaned back on a rotted log. It dug into the sand, and he slouched further and scowled. He sat outside the glow of the fire, strumming the cord of his crossbow.

  Shantae gently swung her tail in the glow of the fire, the light gleaming off her swatch of stripes. “Eish, the way you tamed the peryton! That would make our job of wrangling them much easier.” She looked to Semessa, who gave her a stern look and slightly shook her head.

  “Ai, helpful indeed,” Balin said. He looked to Sephonei and asked, “Can I see it? The lute?”

  Sephonei shifted in the sand, and her heart skipped. She looked to Ku-aya, who lay on her side lazily, propped up by her elbow. She gave a quick nod to Sephonei.

  Sephonei passed her lute to Balin. He eyed the piece and turned it in his hands. He didn’t stop until he was satisfied that he had inspected it from the head to the bridge and around the back.

  “Aha. As I suspected…” Balin let the comment hang until someone pressed.

  Ku-aya took the bait. “Suspected what?”

  Balin turned the lute so the fire highlighted the front. The red glow danced on the blue wood of the instrument. He pointed to a stone inlaid in the neck of the lute, just above the sound hole.

  “See?”
he pointed.

  Everyone leaned in, Abil included.

  “See what?” Sephonei and Ku-aya said at the same time.

  “It’s tricky to see, but if ye look closely, this isn’t a fret marker—it’s an eternal stone.” His finger came deathly close to the fret marker.

  Sephonei lurched at him. “Don’t touch it!” She knocked the lute from his hands; it hit the sand with a light thud.

  Balin upturned from his log, and as if in slow motion, he slowly rolled backwards. He made a grab for anything to keep him up, but his hands met empty air and he plopped into the sand. “What was tha’ for, li’l miss?”

  “Don’t you know not to touch the eternal stones?” Sephonei said, as she leaned and grabbed her lute back.

  Balin furrowed his brow as he twisted his way back up. “This is a tertiary stone. You can definitely touch those. ’S only the primary stones you can’ touch.” He dusted off his pants and sat back down on his log.

  Abil snarked, “Jeez, kid, don’t you know anythin’? You caught a bug or somethin’, actin’ all ladgeful and such?”

  Ku-aya shot in, “Abil, be nice, yaa? You’re gonna catch a bug sittin’ away from the fire in the dark over there.”

  Sephonei ignored Abil; she was getting good at it. She looked at Balin. “What’s the difference between the eternal stones?”

  Balin coughed and looked at Ku-aya, then back to Sephonei. “Ai, I’m no Crystal Hunter, but bein’ the Quar’ermaster for the Atlantean High Priest has its privileges.” He grabbed his mug of ale and stole a long swig of the grainy brew before he continued, “I see a lot o’ exotic goods pass through ’ere heading to Atlantea. Mostly spices an’ other indulgences, but sometimes the lower eternal stones pass by, an’ I get to see ’em in the real.”

  “So, my lute has a tertiary stone in it?” Sephonei asked.

  Balin raised his eyebrows. “Ai. Ye can tell by the color an’ size. Rudimentary stones, well, they look plain. Sometimes they could be mistaken for a normal rock or pebble. Sometimes ye would never know one when ye see it.”

  “What powers do the rudimentary stones have?” Sephonei asked.

  Balin continued, “They can heal small wounds or increase mental clarity, an’ some even say they can heal minor diseases, but there’s no proof.” He scoffed. “Some tribes on the mainland use these stones in rituals—the shamans usually know when they see a rudimentary stone. A simple incantation can release the power o’ the stones.”

  “Rudimentary stones are everywhere, yaa,” Ku-aya added.

  Despite Semessa’s hard stare, Shantae added, “Eish, our clan used these stones before we would go to war or on a hunt, before we worked here…”

  Sephonei wasn’t sure what was going on between the two sebtaurs, but she noticed Semessa’s aura had changed. It was flecked with reds, but mainly it repeated itself, like she was having some internal conflict. Sephonei didn’t know what that meant, but she guessed Semessa was upset, and it seemed to be directed at Shantae.

  “The tertiary stones,” Balin continued, “like the one in yer instrument, are quite unique among the stones.” He looked at her and raised his eyebrows like he expected her to react. His aura was hungry for attention. Sephonei waited for him to continue without leaning in; she smiled at herself internally.

  He coughed and started again, “Well, the tertiary stones play with the psychic an’ magnetic fields. They harness the power o’ the mind an’ objects, but there are limitations, an’ these stones are known to be temperamental.”

  “What do you mean ‘temperamental’?” Sephonei questioned.

  “They can only be used by—”

  Abil snatched the lute from beside Sephonei and strummed wildly. He sang, “You’re all under my command. I am the greatest, best shooter in all the land. Maybe the mainland toooo… I will find the Blood—”

  “Abil, what are you doin’? You sound like a donkey that fell down a well,” Ku-aya said. Laughter erupted around the campfire.

  Abil looked stunned, like he had fully expected to bewitch everyone with his song. He stared blankly, his mouth hanging open, then he turned as red as the fire.

  Sephonei snatched her lute back. “Maybe it’s you who needs a flute because your voice is ladgefully dull.”

  Ku-aya laughed so hard, she had tears in her eyes. Even Semessa let out a soft chuckle. Shantae laughed so hard she whinnied. There was complete silence for a long moment, then everyone laughed even harder at her outburst.

  Abil shot up, grabbed his crossbow, and looked to Ku-aya. “Ai. I’m goin’ to scout in the forest. You…” He looked at Sephonei. “Shut up, li’l fistler. I thought… ah, whatever.” He gave a dismissive swat and stalked off into the darkness.

  Balin rubbed the tears from his eyes and sighed. “As I was sayin’, the stones can only be used by some people, an’ they need to be inlaid into an object for the power to be extracted. The betwichin’ is a sort of charm, but I’ve been told there’s more power to be had from ’em. A sort of illusion can be mustered if ye know how. But not all is known about ’em.” He chuckled again, and his large belly jiggled. He gulped another long swig of his brew.

  “So, the tertiary stone in my lute is what gives it power?”

  “Ai. An’ apparently ye have the ability to release its power when ye play it. It’s quite rare, rare indeed. I’ve never seen it before, li’l miss.”

  Sephonei nodded then looked to her instrument.

  Balin walked over to the wood pile, grabbed a log, and tossed it on the fire. The sparks sizzled and lit up the night. He sat back down and continued his explanation. “Secondary stones are rare. Not as uncommon as the primary stones, but I don’ see too many of ’em pass through ’ere.” Balin leaned in to the fire then said, “Ai. This doesn’t leave ’ere a’right?” His eyes widened and scanned the group as he waited in anticipation.

  Ku-aya sat up and crossed her legs. Her hands formed a triangle under her chin for support.

  Balin continued without anyone agreeing to the terms. “It’s said that the secondary stones can extend life. Atlantea has flourished for almost five thousan’ years. I’ve got a ledger that goes back eight hundred years. Funny thing is, only two high priests have signed that ledger. Sin an’ his father, Anos. Obviously, they’ve kept the power of long life to themselves.”

  Ku-aya yawned. “I thought you had some juicy news. We knew of Sin’s tamperin’ with the secondary stones. He told us, himself, that his father extracted the power to extend life. What you don’t know is that we’re after a primary stone, an’ not just any primary stone—the Bloodstone!”

  Balin licked his lips and leaned in, while his jaw gaped.

  Ku-aya straightened. “Don’t get too excited, yaa. The only reason I mentioned it was it’s important we’re successful. Based on the quality of maps I’ve acquired here before, I’m lettin’ you know the map you give us better be up to snuff, you hear?”

  Balin squinted at her, got up, and hobbled to his tent.

  What was happening? Sephonei looked to Ku-aya as she stood. Ku-aya gripped at her trident that was buckled to her belt. Shantae came over to stand near Sephonei.

  Balin waddled back to the campfire and looked to each person with a questioning look. “What? I had to get me ledger. I have something to show ye.”

  He sat on his log and invited everyone closer. He opened the ledger, and each page of the old book was covered in lists with dates and signatures. It was a record of all the inventory that had passed through the outpost for the last eight hundred years. He flipped through the pages until he landed on one page that read “5000 AE (Atlantean Era).”

  Sephonei calculated the dates to the current date. “That was thirteen years ago?”

  Balin looked at her with a gleam in his eye and a wide grin. “Ai, exactly. I was ’ere thirteen years ago, not as the Quar’ermaster but as a helper. I remember an Atlantean Crystal Hunter by the name o’ Gemeti. She ’ad the most beautiful bl
ue hair—she came from Atlantea in search of the Firestone, a powerful primary stone.” Balin’s breath was heavy, and he constantly licked his lips. Then he continued, “Well, thing is, she never returned to Atlantea. She stole the Firestone from Sin.” He leaned in and flashed his eyes to everyone around the fire. He was expecting surprise, but he didn’t get it.

  Ku-aya scoffed. “Come on, Balin, we already knew that. Sin told us before we left. He even told us that if we failed, we would be sent to the timeless dungeons. That’s why we need your help.”

  Balin’s wide grin faded. “Oh. Well, I thought maybe I could give the mighty Crystal Hunters a head’s up. I guess my ledger—”

  Sephonei jumped in, saving Balin from his embarrassment. “What powers do the primary stones have?”

  Balin looked at her, and his grin returned. “There are three primary stones that we know of: the Firestone, the Bloodstone, an’ the Waterstone.” Balin drank from his cup again then said, “Each with its own powers, but it is said they can take and give life. They offer protection but drain the life from whoever wields their power. It’s said that within each primary stone is a powerful deity who is the power source of the stones. An’ each has an affinity for an element: fire, blood, an’ water.”

  Ku-aya scoffed again. “That’s rubbish. You’ve had too much brew.” She got up, dusted off her long coat, and motioned to Sephonei. “We have a long three-day trip ahead of us to Bentwood Forest. Get some sleep, yaa?”

  Ku-aya strode through the darkness to her tent, and Sephonei followed.

  ROEG

  Great Hunter’s Belt

  T

  he darkness slowly faded into the pink light of the morn. Roeg grabbed a piece of dried meat from his satchel and tore a chunk off. The smoky bits of dried meat were all that filled his belly; they had walked through the night to escape the man-beast clan.

  Unn clambered to a stop, the dusty grass wavering underfoot. He shaded his eyes from the sun with his hand and scanned the horizon.