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    Stoneweaver
    Stoneweaver
    Stoneweaver
    Ebook240 pages3 hours

    Stoneweaver

    By Gareth Lewis

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    About this ebook

    In a flooded world only small peaks dot the seas, with civilization confined to waterborne cities. Society is ruled by tyrannous bosses, enforcing their will with an army of thugs and Stoneweavers, those able to use the remnants of magic. Resources are conserved by selling the poor into slavery. With such a cleansing due, what danger do an escaped slave and thief pose to this fragile society?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherGareth Lewis
    Release dateDec 4, 2010
    ISBN9781452381664
    Stoneweaver
    Author

    Gareth Lewis

    Gareth Lewis has written a number of novels and shorter works in a few genres, including fantasy, science fiction, and thrillers. A programmer, he has a degree in computer studies, and lives in South Wales.

    Read more from Gareth Lewis

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    • 4/5
      Classic fantasy. Three main character points of view lead us through a strange world where water has covered the Earth, what's left of humanity huddles on floating cities worrying about when the next 'cleansing' will occur to reduce excess citizens the cities can no longer support and sell them into slavery for a mysterious despot, and gemstones can help certain wielders called Stoneweavers animate the element they're attuned with to act as avatars. The system of magic is well thought out, the three main characters credible and believable, and the way the three pathways converge page-turning. Language is kept basically 'clean' and there's lots of magical duals, so would be safe and interesting for a YA reader as well as adults. I'll be looking into Mr. Lewis's next book!

    Book preview

    Stoneweaver - Gareth Lewis

    Prologue

    Fire shouldn't take so long to get going, should it? It'd been dry a few hours, yet his opponent had tended the valuable pile he'd brought for five minutes. Danath was anxious to get on with the duel. Or anxious to see whether his opponent could do as rumours claimed.

    Danath glanced around the rough plateau. Barely fifty paces wide, it had been a steep climb form sea level forty foot below. They'd quickly left the sparse vegetation below them as they ascended to this uneven arena, dotted by a few jutting rocks.

    A cool breeze wafted in, and he luxuriated in the sun washing over his dark skin. Just short of six foot, his lean, muscled form hid behind the loose-fitting trousers and long sleeved grey vest he preferred for duelling.

    Rain may've offered an advantage, but less of a challenge. He was happy it had dried out.

    With half an eye on his opponent's movements, he scanned the horizon. There were only a small number of similar peaks jutting nearby. And, of course, Melmyrn. His home city floated nearby, where Thortus would be watching the duel.

    This was one of a handful of the few peaks emerging from the ocean with a surface flat enough for duelling, making it relatively popular. Cities sometimes sailed from weeks around to use it.

    While Melmyrn had a perfectly serviceable arena, there'd been concerns his opponent could damage the area. It seemed spurious - and meant less profit for Danath than if he had a proper audience - but once Thortus decided on the venue there'd been no point arguing. Danath may still profit in other ways.

    As the fire finally reached a decent size, his opponent stood. The man had arrived a day ago from the distant flaming islands of Tloth, and challenged Danath. Apparently Danath had killed the man's friend in an earlier stoneweaving duel. Not that he'd recognised the name, or remembered it now. Come to think of it, what was this one's name? Tezal? Terzar? He was sure it had a t and a z in there somewhere. Never mind. His interest lay in what the man would allegedly use. Not that he'd have declined a duel.

    As city champion he had to accept all challenges. And probably would regardless, simply for the thrill. But tradition meant the loser forfeited the stone used to the winner, and the base word if they didn't know it.

    The inhabitants of the Tloth region had supposedly learned which gemstone and word allowed them to control fire, though they remained secretive with the knowledge. Danath wouldn't let the opportunity to learn it slip away.

    The man - Danath decided to think of him as Tezal - withdrew a gemstone. It shone a translucent reddish orange. Was that a tade? He'd only seen pictures of the gemstone. He couldn't recall its history, but suspected they'd now only be found in the Tloth region. Tossing the gemstone into the fire, Tezal whispered, and the fire shifted.

    Slowly at first. Awkwardly. Controlling it must take effort. It appeared far more erratic than the stone and metal Danath was familiar with.

    The expanding flame unfolded, coalescing into a vaguely human shape. It flickered and twitched with disconcerting irregularity as it grew, consuming the fuel. Tezal stood behind it, waiting.

    Danath wasn't surprised Tezal wouldn't be wearing it. He'd only vaguely hoped it could be controlled to protect its wielder form the heat.

    Danath withdrew his dett - a dark red gemstone - and placed it on a nearby outcropping of stone. 'Luxthor,' he said, and felt an awareness of the stone flood his mind. It contained a few flecks of metal, but not enough to matter, and responded easily to his thoughts.

    He'd normally use a block of iron for duels. Against fire, stone seemed a wiser choice. And since animating your weapon before a duel was considered poor manners, he'd have had to lug it up here. That had seemed too much like real work.

    He animated the stone into human shape, and strode into the hollow area within it. He sealed it behind him with a thought. Only a couple of eye slits remained open, for him to see and to let in air. He flexed, aligning the thoughts sent to his muscles with those going to his armour.

    Satisfied, he nodded to Tezal. The fiery avatar advanced with erratic grace.

    Approaching it, Danath remained uncertain how to proceed. The gemstone powering it was the only solid matter, so it didn't need other fuel. Did it still require air? Smothering it may be an option, probably his initial one. The tade was unprotected within the flames, but he'd rather avoid destroying it. Removing it - even if he knew the word and could touch it with his flesh - was illegal in a duel.

    As they closed, the thing leapt. It engulfed his armour in flames. He barely closed the slits in time, a wave of heat crashing over his eyes.

    He felt it grapple his carapace in a gossamer grasp, holding firmly. Its heat pulsed distantly through his link to the stone, more a concept than a sensation, and he sensed cracks beginning to greet it along his shell. Not enough to be a problem yet. Not before the lack of air became an issue.

    Grabbing the avatar, Danath fell on it. The jolt from falling onto stone was inevitable, no matter how good his control. His opponent's avatar tried slipping out from under him. He rolled, fighting to keep it pinned and to grind it into the ground. It slipped free, shooting to his left.

    Rolling right, Danath scrambled to his feet. He risked a quick opening of his eye slits, as much for air as to spot the enemy. It was charging again. Taking a deep breath, he sealed the slits before it hit. The force of the impact was a strong gust of wind rather than a solid collision.

    Rolling with the blow, he dragged the avatar to the ground again. Again it slipped through his grasp, clambering on top of him this time. He rolled, but it always managed to stay on top.

    How near the edge were they? They'd first clashed near the center of the peak, and the last glimpse showed they hadn't moved much, but that'd been a few rolls ago. He'd better not move far until he had his bearings. A fall shouldn't kill him, but he didn't know how far under water he'd have to go to extinguish the thing.

    Twisting to his feet, the stone shell matching his fluid grace, he flung the flaming avatar aside. He expelled the surface layer of his stone avatar after it to push it away, and opened the slits. The fiery creature stumbled ten strides away, not far from the edge of the peak. A quick glance found Tezal over to his left, around twenty strides away.

    Charging his true opponent, Danath caught a moment of panic in Tezal's eyes. Tezal scrambled to the side, no doubt rushing the fiery avatar to intercept.

    Danath glanced at the avatar. It was closing faster than he'd like. No matter how well he merged with it, running in stone remained a physical and mental exertion. It'd taken its toll. No doubt Elgren would put it down to too little practice. Nevertheless, the flaming avatar would catch him before he reached Tezal.

    Time to see how well Tezal handled multiple fights.

    Opening the front of the avatar as he ran, Danath sprang out as he directed it to change course towards Tezal's avatar. He slowed to a walk as his mind adjusted to the two of them no longer moving in synch.

    Still backing away, Tezal was flustered as he glanced between Danath and the clashing avatars. The flaming avatar tried slipping around, but found its path blocked. Its stony opponent - no longer limited to a human shape - flowed as it grappled and smothered the flames.

    Danath charged Tezal, maintaining the pressure.

    Both had short blades drawn, Danath's iron, and Tezal's looking coppery. Tezal's attention focussed entirely on Danath's approach, tensed to meet him. His eyes adopted a puzzled look as Danath stopped steps away, and he only just dived away as the stone avatar charged through, the fiery one in its grasp. The pair continued over the edge.

    While he disliked risking the tade, Danath had no idea how skilled a swordsman Tezal was. A distraction seemed the smartest way to end the fight.

    Spinning back to his feet, Tezal danced away from where Danath had been. Not fast enough. Danath caught his sword hand in a firm grip, holding it in place as his own blade found Tezal's throat. They remained poised as Danath's attention returned to his avatar.

    They'd reached the water. He felt the pressure all around his stone surrogate, merging with flailing streams of heat from the other's dying struggles. He stretched his avatar's arms into a scoop beneath its fading opponent, and smiled as something drifted onto it. The gemstone secured, he began the avatar's ascent.

    Tezal's face showed his defeat. He let Danath take his weapon, and went as directed towards the edge of the plateau.

    Seeing his avatar cleared the water, Danath glanced at Tezal. 'What's the base word?'

    Tezal replied with reluctance. 'Thir.'

    'Thir,' said Danath, trying it out.

    He saw the certainty of a doomed man in Tezal's eyes. It changed to confusion as Danath slid his blade into its scabbard. He turned to meet his returning avatar.

    Obviously Tezal hadn't expected to survive losing the fight. But Danath had no reason to kill him. Why did people always expect that of him? He killed when paid to. Or when a duel went that far. With his opponent's avatar beaten he'd won, so he had no need to kill. If he went killing anyone at any time, people may get the idea they didn't have to bother paying him to do it. Then he may have to get a proper job. No way would he let that happen.

    Chapter 1

    Disembarking from the ship, it took Kreddick a moment to adjust to the different sway of Melmyrn. A deep, slow movement. Each floating settlement had its own feel, which you recognised with experience.

    Kreddick easily acclimatised to the sway as he ascended the dockside ramp. The heavy stone walls to the side vented a steady stream of water as the unrelenting rain fell.

    He offered a deepening smirk to the guards at the top of the ramp. Their frowns deepened. Guards may be a bit of a stretch. They primarily served as enforcers of Thortus' will. The city, like others, was officially a commune. Few remained such in practice, having been taken over by men like Thortus, who'd seized power from the previous tyrant. No official government existed. He ruled by dint of his enforcers happening to anyone who disagreed with him, or didn't agree quickly enough.

    Those standing guard - the bottom rung of his organization - would be here more to report anything of interest than to maintain the peace. Kreddick fully expected to be included in such a report. He'd rather avoid them, but that hope had been lost the moment he'd disembarked, so he might as well make an impression.

    The guards wore no uniform, apart from the rough livery of their role, a black armband with a crest portraying some kind of bird. Otherwise their clothes were the dull grey fish-skins common in the poorer parts of town. A few pedestrians had splashes of colour, in the form of cheap coloured feathers. Dyes would only be found in the richer areas of town, or the more expensive docks.

    Kreddick's clothes would draw their attention, if nothing else did. The black of his black and grey outfit was too dark to not be dyed, appearing sharper against the array of dull, worn, colours surrounding him. He stood just above average height, but with a stocky build, and the impression of being well-muscled. His head held not even a hint of hair, and his hook nose sat prominently above a frequent smirk.

    'Morning,' he said in a friendly tone.

    After an initial response of heavy stares, the apparent leader responded in a less-than-friendly tone. 'Who're you, and what're you doing here?' , He wore a seemingly permanent sneer.

    They didn't appear happy with their jobs, a situation probably not helped by the weather. It wouldn't take much to set them off.

    'Kreddick. I've come to enjoy the hospitable atmosphere of your beautiful city.' He punctuated it with a wide smile. 'And you are?'

    'The welcoming committee,' said the thug in a slow growl. 'Welcome. Try not to leave too much of a mess when you get beaten to death.'

    'I'll do my best,' said Kreddick, the cheer still in his voice. 'Where can a man find a decent place to stay around here?'

    'The fish'll always welcome company.'

    'Such a hospitable city that even the fish are neighbourly, eh?'

    The man seemed on the edge of attacking. Kreddick glanced around, ensuring as he moved that the pouch at his belt gave a slight shake, the rattling within clearly identifiable as gemstones.

    The single storey buildings around the dockside had that oddly clean yet dirty look they got from exposure to the intemperate ocean. There were a couple of likely inns obvious among them, but wanted somewhere nearer the centre of the city. He kept glancing around until the man's attention returned to his face.

    The thug's sneer receded, a cold appraising look replacing it.

    'I was hoping for somewhere a little drier for the night,' said Kreddick.

    'You'll want somewhere with a roof, then?' The thug didn’t want to be seen to back down, even facing a Stoneweaver.

    'What a splendid idea.' Kreddick flashed another grin. He had no intention of a fight, but was curios how far he could push.

    'Depends what you can afford.' The thug's voice tightened, as he controlled his temper.

    'Oh, I can probably manage a few irons a night.' The nearby inns would probably charge an iron a week. Meals included.

    'The Haunted Atoll, in the merchant district, is probably the best you can find.' He pointed along a street, giving directions. Then he stared at Kreddick, who felt certain from those eyes that he'd reached as far as he could push without the situation degenerating.

    'Much obliged,' said Kreddick. With a nod, he strode down the middle of the stone road leading into the city. The streets had become worn over the years, slight grooves evident where hand carts travelled them with regularity. The rest of the surface had also been worn down by time, dipping away from the sides.

    Even without glancing back it didn't take long to spot the guard following him. Kreddick made sure not to go too fast. He didn't want to lose their attention just yet.

    Chapter 2

    Cursing himself, Welden maintained an even pace. He could lose the guard in the crowds, but if the man had recognised him... Too late to do anything about that now. Killing him could draw attention, whereas losing him and hoping he hadn't had a close enough look to be sure offered a better chance of keeping a low profile. He had to be out, and it'd been a reasonable gamble that nobody in Melmyrn would recognise him after all this time. Other than those he wanted to be recognised by.

    It took another block, deviating from his original route, to be sure he had a tail without giving away he knew. The man hadn't tried to stop him. Maybe he wasn't sure. Either way, it'd be safer to assume word would get back to Thortus and plan accordingly.

    After another couple of blocks he stood in the shadows of an alley, watching the man scurry to find him. Welden scanned the street for a short while after he'd disappeared, until certain he'd accrued no other tails. It'd still be safer to take a roundabout route and continue checking.

    The streets were busier than he remembered. Probably refugees from the smaller settlements that'd been drying up with greater frequency. From the tension in the air it must be nearing time for a Cleansing.

    The city could only support so many, and their supplies ebbed and swelled. Every so often, when the city got too full, or supplies too low, the less useful members of society would be rounded up and sold into slavery, traded with Lord Narvon for supplies only he could provide. It was no secret he used the slaves for

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