The Stoneweaver

Chapter 21: Dragon

Drums thundered. Trumpets blared. Skarn fluttered his eyes open. He was still alive.

Smoke stung his eyes. He blinked away the tears and saw he was in the Market Square, outside the fallen Palace Gates. He was on a raised platform. He was wrapped in thick cords of rope the size of his arms.

In front of him, the Market Square was barely recognizable. The merchant stalls had been flattened or pushed against the sides of buildings. Thousands of people thronged the Square. They shouted and waved torches in the gathering darkness.

Was it the same day? Skarn remembered breaking the Keep open; the look of fear on the little princess's eyes as Falf prepared to strike.

Skarn craned his head to the left. He wasn't alone on the platform. He saw to his surprise that the Princess and the Queen Mother were bound to chairs a few feet away.

So. This was to be a public execution.

He flexed against the ropes. They held firm. His Talent would be useless against the strange song of hempen rope.

But the dimsian could break him free. He was mostly dimsian, now; only part of his chest, torso, and head were still flesh and blood. He felt the hellrock dancing alive inside him. Calling to him all the time, now. Join us, Join us. Skarn felt sure that if he reached for its power, he would fall into its embrace forever.

If he wanted to survive this day, he had only one hope. It all depended on Agatha.

Skarn looked at the crowd, trying to find her scarred face. He didn't see her. Either she was in hiding, or she wasn't here yet. Or, he had to admit, she might already have fled Darem.

"Welcome back, stoneweaver," said Erid.

Skarn jerked to the right. Erid was sitting next to him. The Trade Master looked calm.

"You have done well."

"Is my family safe?" asked Skarn.

"They are."

"When can I see them?"

Erid nodded to the front of the crowd. Just below the lip of the platform, Kadana shoved his wife into view. Trailing her were the children, still covered in burlap sacks. His wife saw him and opened her mouth.

But before she could cry out, they were gone, whisked back into the shoving, shouting crowd.

"Your part is nearly done," Erid said. "But you still have one last role to play. Remember the price for leaving the stage early."

He remembered. Another reason he couldn't summon the power of the dimsian.

"Why am I here?"

"I would think that was obvious."

"You're going to execute the Queen and the Princess."

"The people are going to remove the oppressors," said Erid.

"Which includes me?"

"Are you not one of the Talented? One of those who stands superior, lording your natural gifts over the common person?"

Skarn shook his head. No point in arguing anymore. Besides, Erid didn't even sound as if he believed it.

"That's why you slaughtered the Talented outside the Keep?" asked Skarn. "Because they are oppressors?"

"It was a convenient way to eliminate them," said Erid. "When you want to remove a pest, lure them to one place."

Skarn's eye was caught by movement in the crowd. A group of determined men were cutting through the middle of the mob. They shoved people out of their way, trampled on those who didn't move. At their head was Falf. He was raising a chant: