KINGDOM OF THE STONE -- a Wattpad featured novel

Bonus Chapter 1

* * *

Half an hour later, they stood in the middle of the village's southernmost fields. Around them, the first green shoots of the season rose up. Yet a few yards away, a clear line of stunted brown growth extended to the southern horizon.

"A couple of years ago, the blight was only at the edge of the fields," the gap-toothed elder said. "Now it is halfway to our houses and it is accelerating. As it is, we're forced to eat mostly fish and mudkips. In another year or two, we'll have to leave the korion."

Karux strode out into the brittle remains of the field. A weathered wooden pole leaned precariously in the dry sandy soil. Symbols carved into the splintered wood covered the thick pole. He bent and ran a hand over the cracked and weathered surface. "It's been altered."

"We've not touched it," the elder assured him. "Only the sun and wind and rain have touched it."

"No." Karux agreed. "No hands have changed it. The blight itself has changed the pattern."

The elder bent and peered at the carvings, but Garanth knew his father was not referring to those. He was referring to the shapes in the real world that Garanth's own limited perceptions saw as mere weathered wood. Admittedly, the wood looked ancient, not like a post that had been planted in a field only four years ago, but Garanth could make nothing else out of it. He glanced at Eiraena who peered at the post with her nose almost touching it, then veered away, running and giggling as if she were following some winding thread southward across the field.

"No Eiraena!" Karux called out. "That will not help us."

To Garanth's surprise, she stopped and stood staring into the distance, southward.

Karux faced the elder. "I can replace the poles, which may slow the blight down, but if this is going to be undone, I'll need help."

The elder shrugged, then nodded. "Perhaps we best get back."

* * *

They stayed that night in one of the elder's houses while the beetles cried out Garanth's name and pleaded for his help. The next morning the elders brought forward those children they thought the cleverest and most thoughtful. Karux spent time talking to them and drawing lines in the dust, which he asked them to repeat. Only one seemed to show any ability to do it well.

"This is Netac," the chief elder said as he pushed a tall skinny child forward. Netac was probably about fourteen years old. He was at least four years older than Garanth. Like all the rest of the people, he had a deep brown tan and straight black hair, though his hair tended to stand out in spiky clumps like a hedgehog. As the elder explained how Netac was the youngest son of his second child and how he was a good and obedient boy even if he asked too many questions, Netac watched them with quiet dark eyes that darted to and from Karux' stone.

Karux gave Netac a knowing smile. "Let's talk. Shall we?" He led Netac to the nearby shade of the house in which they had stayed and sat in the dust. Netac followed and knelt attentively. Garanth couldn't hear much that followed but he knew from previous such conversations the type of questions Karux would ask, questions like, "Have you ever heard a sound that you knew did not occur outside your head?" and, "Have you ever stared at nothing until you saw something?" He would ask them if they ever wondered about the true nature of things and go on to discuss light and shadow and how shadows were imperfect representations of a larger and more real reality. Eventually they got on to drawing the lines in the sand and, though he hesitated at first, Netac quickly reproduced them with precision.

"Ga-ranth. Ga-ranth. Ga-ranth."

As they talked the beetles grew louder, crying for help from all around the circle of houses. Eiraena leaned against the house, dragging a long thin stick across the white plastered stones and listening to the sounds it made.

"So...," the elder began, breaking the awkward silence. "Have you been with the oracle long?"

"Since my madra died," Garanth replied.

The elder didn't ask for clarification. He rocked back and forth on his heels, watching Karux and his grandson talking. "What kind of a man would you say he is?"

Garanth looked at the man he called his father and realized he'd never considered that question. He'd seen plenty of fathers that were both more and less loving than Karux and more and less strict. Karux kept them fed and clothed, but that was about it. He tolerated them, allowing Garanth and Eiraena to follow him around as he searched for potential students, but if they were to decide to leave, would Karux even try to stop them?

"Save us! Save us! Save us!"

Garanth realized the elder was awaiting his reply. "He's...very busy."

The elder nodded thoughtfully. "Busy is good. A man should be productive."

After another long moment, Karux rose and strode towards the elder. "I think he'll do."

"Do what?"

"I think he can learn the craft. Who knows, he might even replace me as oracle someday."

The elder frowned. "Do you intend to take him with you?"

"To Har-Tor. Yes," Karux said.

"I don't know if his parents will agree to that."

"Tell me what they want. I'm sure we can pay."

The elder straightened. "You can't just trade a boy like a goat, you know! A son is both a comfort and a support in a man's old age."

"You told me his father had five sons and three daughters."

"Yes, yes." The elder waved away his objections. "But he is their youngest."

"Well, tell them their youngest may be the one to lift this curse and save this korion if they let him learn how."

"Very well," the elder grumbled.

"You know, in the cities, parents eagerly pay craftsmen to teach their sons a craft."

The elder scowled back. "That's not how we do things here."

"Go talk to them. I wish to leave for Har-Tor by noon."

"GARANTH!" The insects' chirping swelled in a crescendo of millions of chitinous exoskeletons rubbing against each other. A dark green-black wave of jeweled wing casings poured from the nearby brush and piled up into a knee-high mound. The flood of beetles grew into a mound the height of a small child. A bulge like a head and shoulders formed at the top, and something like a hand formed and reached out toward them. "SAVE US!"

A rock flew into their midst, and the pile exploded into a thundering buzzing cloud.

Karux straightened, dusting off his hands. He glared at Garanth and Netac. "Do not listen to them. We will help if we can, but if you let them, they will consume you with their need."

With a horrified look, the elder ran off to talk to Netac's parents.