Stoneslayer: Book One Scandal

Helen slowly became aware of an unnerving red light. She lifted her head and looked around. The glow bounced off the cold stone walls and intensified quickly. It filled her with thoughts of despair and hopelessness. She tried to shake them off. You have what’s mine! Where is it? I want it! Helen shuddered violently. She recalled the inner voice that urged her to use the stone to keep Prince Harnak from dying. That voice was comforting and encouraging. This voice was oppressive and angry and beat on her relentlessly. “No!” she muttered. “Go away. I have nothing for you or anyone else, not even me.” The red light flickered out. Only the numbing cold and her utter isolation, cheerless companions, remained.

You must tell the true story of the Arkstone and the Toltecs — and the Turanians. Through you and your tale those who are born into humankind in later years will remember. You will stir their soul memories.

Helen was lost and isolated, unable to participate with the rest of the group. She was outside the circle with no sense of any connection to a Creator, and no concept of what unconditional love might feel like. If any type of God had indeed created her, then that Deity had made a mistake too cruel to forgive.

The Lord Steward summoned Lord James to his study. Joining them were Lord Nimrod, the Consort, and Judith, who stood beside the Consort and stared out the window. A winter sunrise streaked the sky with pink-and-gold light. Judith wrestled with her anguish. This is probably Helen’s last sunrise, and she’s no doubt in some stinking hole and cannot even see it. Lord James paid little heed to anyone else. All he saw was Miriam’s face, her green eyes harsh with accusation. All he heard were her pleas. Do something, James. Save her. Don’t let her die. Thinking he had everyone’s attention, Shinar got to the point. “It seems you have a daughter, James.

The trial awaiting Helen was known among the Toltecs as a Kazil, a special court convened to consider only those state crimes serious enough to be punished by death. It consisted of a joint session of the Kinshazen and the highest-ranking priests of the Temple of Kronos, who were referred to as the Host of the Faithful. A Kazil was always conducted at Kindred House, the building where the members of the Kinshazen met. Its outer layer consisted of massive blocks of polished pink granite, which had a decidedly dark cast to it. Kindred House was closest to Lake Shambhala of all the structures in the Nighthall government complex. Those summoned before a Kazil and convicted of the charges were invariably put to death within three days of the proceeding. And in only a few, very rare, instances had anyone been found innocent on trial before a Kazil.

Her body faded away so far, she almost lost her connection to it. Utter blackness enveloped her, shutting off all warmth. All light. All love. All support. All hope. She was pinned, alone, naked, and freezing before a beast so terrifying she struggled to avert her gaze but could not. Horns arose from the top of what had to be a head. Fangs protruded obscenely from a frowning hole that must have been a mouth. Unsheathed claws threatened instant evisceration. Horrifying eyes. Two cesspits of black fury in which red flames churned like burning blood. They bore down on Helen, intensifying the pressure on her to the point of agony. Inside her head a message played over and over. You are helpless. Helen’s fragmented thoughts spun wildly. What to do? How to stop this nightmare? The wretched voice roared again, like nails clashing against slate. “Give me the stone! Now!

Lord James did not know whether to feel proud of his daughter or throttle her. He had managed to collar her quietly among the guests at the Shinar manor, and they were alone together in the Lord Steward’s library. He ordered her to a sofa in front of a ceiling-high bookcase. Helen heard the same hard quality in his voice that she had perceived the first time they spoke together. She swallowed hard. He was not in a mood to be trifled with or flouted. “You dress and behave modestly enough, Lieutenant,” he said. “But your language earlier today was utterly appalling. You sounded like a Lesser Shore whore, not a proper young woman, or a professional healer. I simply won’t have it.” “Two out of three is a start, Lord —” He brought the back of his hand down across her face. She leapt to her feet, not wounded so much as angry. “Is force your answer for everything, Lord Protector?” “Are sarcasm and insubordination yours, Lieutenant?

Good evening, Sergeant,” Helen said. “What’s that?” He held the bag out to her. “A present for Lieutenant Angel. Something to eat on your journey.” She took it and put it back on the desk. “Wipe that damn grin off your face, Sergeant. A smiling Toltec is a contradiction in terms.

Blinking hard, she watched two Toltec nobles disembark from the aircraft and rush up the steps. One of them argued with the priest who had proclaimed her death sentence. The taller of the two, wearing what she dimly registered as the uniform of the Generals Council, demanded the keys to her shackles. Securing them, he walked behind the post. A curious mixture of anticipation and confusion filled Helen. Although she did not know him, a tenuous sense of hope stirred deep within her simply because he was there with her. She turned her head from side to side, trying to watch him as he worked to free her. “Who are you, my lord? Why are you here?” “You sent me a lecture not long ago about your duty as a healer, Lieutenant,” he replied, on one knee behind her to unlock the manacles around her ankles. “I am your father.

Helen dared to look up without being invited to do so. “I cannot thank you enough for your kindness, Lady Consort.” “Kindness had nothing to do with it. You have skills and training I need just now, and I intend to use you shamelessly, and expose you to greater danger.” “Get in line, Lady Consort,” Helen replied. “Danger-filled usury seems to be a holiday pastime in this city.” The Consort stopped pretending to do her needlework. “I could have you whipped for such insolence, girl.” “Before or after you use me.

Such abilities are the true gifts of the spirit, my daughter.

Your light, Helen, is to show both peoples the enormous healing possibilities and potentials of the path of love instead of judgment and hatred. You do this simply by being who you are — a bridge of hope, dearest child.

It’s very foolish to base policy on childish resentments, Lady Consort.

I need a little time to sift all the kernels of truth from his self-congratulatory chaff.

Don’t quit your desk job for stealth combat, my lord. You’d endanger the whole squadron with the noise you make just breathing.

One day isn’t good enough, Isaac. My patient is in dire need today, right now.

There will come a moment when you will look at your child, your firstborn, and realize there isn’t anything you would not do, would not suffer, would not sacrifice, for that child’s well-being.

You would be an utter fool if you weren’t.

Your true identity is far more than the sum total of your parents’ flesh or names.

But I can tell you this. You won’t be alone. I will be with you. I promise.

What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation?

Ignorance was a form of bliss, I guess, until it wasn’t.