The Shadowbearer (An Aegis of the Gods Book)

Chapter 5

How, in all that’s righteous, does the creature know my name? Stefan wondered

“Don’t trust them,” Garrick cautioned as he stepped up next to Stefan, his bow drawn, fletching to ear.

“Look around us, Garrick.” Stefan lowered his bow. “Even if we wanted to try hold out until the infantry and the scorpios arrived, we couldn’t. Not without Alzari or Ashishin.”

“What if they decided to take you?” Kasimir’s weapon still pointed at the stoneform creatures.

“We wouldn’t be able to stop them if that was their wish.”

“I hate being helpless,” Garrick said.

Stefan nodded. “Me too. Me too.” He raised his voice. “Men, lower your weapons.” Exhalations and the creak of strained wood easing on either side of him confirmed Kasimir and Garrick followed the order. Stefan glanced behind to make sure the rest of the cavalry complied, and then he faced the Svenzar once more. Fissures and cracks were appearing on the creature’s body in patterns he couldn’t quite place. “Svenzar, how do we do this?”

Stony chips fell away from the Svenzar’s eyes as they opened to reveal emerald pools. The eyes reminded Stefan of his own. “I wish to speak to you alone, Knight Commander Dorn. Come to me. Leave your men behind.”

“How do I know you don’t mean me harm?”

“You do not.”

“I’m supposed to trust such an answer?”

Voice tinkling in those musical notes, the Svenzar gave what sounded like a chuckle, “What choice do you have?” The Svenzar gestured a massive rocky hand to the Sven surrounding Stefan’s men. “Our young are more than enough to handle your men. Within the stone, we hold power. All you see here is ours to do with as we will.”

As if in emphasis, the creature waved its hand, and the ground shook. Walls grew from the earth, spouting up until they blocked off any possible retreat. For the first time Stefan also noted the sense of motion that persisted inside the Travelshafts had come to a complete stop. The sensation was as if the entire world paused and waited for a command.

“Point taken,” Stefan said aloud. Under his breath he said, “Should they do anything to me, fight to the death.”

“Yes, sir,” both men replied solemnly.

Stefan exhaled, let his bow drop to the ground, and strode forward. He refused to unsheathe his sword. A measure of command was necessary. Feet crunching on smaller portions of rubble, he picked his way through the rock chips and debris littering the floor until he found a clear path along the metal tracks. As he strode to the Svenzar, he kept his back straight, his chest out and paced himself with an easy grace. In this situation, he would show no fear.

When he drew within a dozen feet of the creature, Stefan realized the fissures and cracks on its body did form lines and patterns. In fact, they appeared to be more like tattoos. He strained his eyes and was able to pick out images of men, creatures he’d never seen before, landscapes, scenes of great battles, and sparkling celestial bodies. The intricacy of the artwork made him gasp. Even the murals along the walls in the Royal Palace paled by comparison. This was the first time he ever witnessed such a vibrant tapestry.

“I have watched you and your people for years.” The Svenzar’s voice was softer now, more musical than before, and conversational.

Stefan stopped. The Svenzar’s stoneform body stretched so high Stefan needed to crane his neck to peer into its face. Up close, the tattoos wormed and shifted. They gave off the impression the men and creatures watched his every move. “Why?”