Stonefather

“But one day he won’t. You’ll be on another errand, and he’ll come down himself, and he’ll realize what you’ve done. Only he’ll think I bound them together, and I’ll lose my position. And if he realizes that it’s living rock, I’ll lose my life.”

“But didn’t you do it?” Runnel reached for the hearthstones, then shook his head. “My lord, these hearthstones are no different from the way they were when I got up this morning. I mean yesterday morning.”

“Why would you have checked them yesterday if you didn’t know something was changing with them?”

“I didn’t check them,” said Runnel. “I sleep down here.”

“So you can’t tell if these stones are living rock?”

Runnel pressed his hand against the stone and deliberately traced the stone inside, to find where it ended. . and it didn’t. It kept going down into the earth, in a single column. It never rested on hard-packed earth. All the tiny stones that had once formed a thousand chains down to bedrock were now a single great sweep of stone that grew out of the bedrock and soared through soil till it came out here as hearthstones and flagstone, creased where they had once been separate pieces, but now fused inside, where it was hidden from view.

“I didn’t… I didn’t look,” said Runnel. “I never noticed a difference. It felt the same every day.”

“You’ve been sleeping down here?” asked Lord Brickel. “Show me.”

Runnel lay down where he always did, and pressed his hand against the Stone.

“Aw, Tewstan, what a fool,” said Brickel. “A natural mage sleeps every night with his hands in the stone.”

“Not in the stone, my lord,” said Runnel.

“Of course your hand is in the stone, and the stone is in your hand. You’ve been pouring your life into the stone, and the stone has been pouring strength into your body. Look at your face; I should have seen it, it’s half stone already.”

Runnel touched his hand to his face. It felt like ordinary flesh to him.

“And Demwor tells me you can carry full water jars without ever stopping to rest, and I don’t even wonder! 

I deserve whatever happens to me.”

“Why should anything happen to you, my lord?” asked Runnel.

“Because I swore an oath that I was nothing but a cobblefriend, and by Tewstan it was the truth. But they’ll never believe that it’s sheer chance that brought a… a stonefather here to my house.”

“A what?” A thrill went through Runnel. He wasn’t sure if it was fear or joy. Both, probably.

“What do you think, that cobblefriends and rockbrothers can do this? You slept your way through the stone — of course it joined to the bedrock, to the whole globe of living rock on which the oceans and the continents float. You’re ignorant, you know absolutely nothing, that much is obvious, but you have power. The stone loves you. Don’t you see it? Hasn’t it shown you its love all your life?”

Runnel thought back to his rock-climbing and realized: The reason I could find cracks and handholds and toeholds where others couldn’t was because the stone opened up for me. Because it loved me.

And I love the stone. Like the child wolfmage in the story loves the wolf pup. All my life, I’ve loved the feel of it in my hand. I’ve worked with it, built with it, cut with it, climbed it, slept on it when I could. And it never occurred to me that this made me a stonemage.

“It has,” he said to Lord Brickel. “But I didn’t realize. It was part of being alive, to hold the stone, to climb it.”

“And you didn’t feel yourself connect with the stone below?”

“I thought it was my dream.”

“If you had gone to school in Cyllythu, you’d know. Dreams like that must be told to a master. You would have been known for what you are.”

“I can’t be a stonefather,” said Runnel. “I’m. . Runnel.”

“Well, you’re not a stonefather. You have the power of one, but you have no skills at all. You don’t even know what you’re doing. You can’t control it. You can’t keep yourself from doing it.”

“Teach me.”

“Impossible. Not here. Don’t you think Demwor would notice? No, you’re getting out of here, while I try to take these stones apart one by one.”

The thought of dividing the rocks again struck Runnel like a blow. “But…it’s alive now.”

“It shouldn’t be. It wasn’t till you meddled.”

Now he registered what Lord Brickel had said before. “Where will I go?”

“To Cyllythu, of course. Go to the temple of Tewstan and tell them what happened here. Stokhos will vouch for the truth of it, and they’ll test you and you’ll be fine, I promise. But you’re getting out of here tonight.”

“I don’t know the way. And the soldiers of the guard will challenge me.”

“They won’t see you. Don’t you understand? Just press yourself against the stone walls of the fortress and they’ll never see you.”

“I’ve never—”

“I don’t have time to argue. You are getting out of here tonight.”

“Why can’t I wait for day?”