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It didn’t take very long for Cassie to understand how seriously Marius was taking his mission. Although his lithomancy was very different from her father’s stone songs she could still discern the tone and tenor of his working and it was deep and rich indeed. At its heart, stone song was an invitation to the earth, a request for the stones to join in a greater pattern and purpose. Marius was doing something similar, but as a command rather than an invitation.

Her vision had improved to the point where she could pick out his dark hat and jacket from the long shadows cast by the nearby bluffs. Sadly, that did not make her feel any better about her current situation. Marius was a very unsettling creature when she couldn’t see him. His light, catlike grace made him sound like a predator on the prowl and his speech didn’t make things any better.

Like most native speakers of Iberian his voice had a natural rolling cadence to it which Cassie normally found very pleasant and almost musical. However, there was an abruptness to Marius’ speech that undid it. Instead of sounding like waves rolling down a river his speech sounded like a barber whetting his razor on a leather strap.

Seeing him looming around the campsite in black only added to his intimidating presence. It was a stark contrast to what he was actually saying and doing because so far he had only been polite to her. She shifted on the log he had set out for her, pulling the rough blanket around her shoulders, and said, “Do you have a place for a fire?”

“I am afraid not, senorita,” Marius said, the echoes of his voice changing just enough to tell her he’d turned to look at her. “I could not risk the smoke. The sun is getting low and I’m afraid it is going to get colder soon. Would you like to use the tent? Departing in haste was always a part of my plan and I intended to leave it behind so you are welcome to use it as long as you wish.”

“No, thank you.” She wasn’t about to go into a stranger’s tent whether he was planning to use it again or not. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to…” She faltered, casting her mind about for something, anything she could think of to offer as an alternative to another attack on the Manor.

“Your consideration does you great credit, senorita,” Marius replied, his voice echoing ominously over the constant clacking of his lithomancy tiles. “However, I’m afraid the die is cast at this point. We have to have the cornerstone back in order to undo its blight on our land and, frankly, even if we didn’t I don’t trust Mr. Harper to keep it safe.”

“He got it back when your people lost it, senor.”

“As he pointed out to me earlier. Yet I cannot help but notice he is not doing a very good job of defending it here.” Marius deposited a stack of tiles onto his lithomancy board with an ominous thud. “You’ve seen his basement. Wait, have you been down there before?”

“No, senor, today was my first visit so I haven’t really seen it but I do take your meaning. The floor was raw earth. The walls smelled like pine wood, though I suspect there were iron nails driven into them from time to time. He had some kind of warding alarm but it was just that. An alarm, not some kind of powerful hex, barrier or trap. The stone itself sits on an iron plate but beyond that it is not exactly well protected.”

The tiles slid across the board with raspy swiftness, the earth underfoot quietly rearranging itself in sympathetic fashion. “Adequate for most purposes, when he is here.”

“But he is not always here, as I am well aware. How long has Mr. Harper had the stone in his possession, if I may ask?”

“Six years, unless he left it in the hands of his captain while Oakheart Manor was under construction in which case it would be five and a half. We’re not entirely sure.”

“He managed to keep ahold of it for six years, then.”

“Not that impressive, since we had it for almost forty before it was stolen.” Another pile of tiles crashed onto the board. “Forgive me if I ask an impertinent question, Miss Fairchild, but how accustomed are you to the life in the violent vocations? You are from a family of knights, yes?”

“Yes, but a family of Stonehenge knights from Everton, senor.” She sighed, thinking of the way her father’s attention would sometimes wander during lessons, drifting to the family’s collection of swords, displayed over the coat of arms. She knew he had never had cause to use any of them. “Avalon is a very peaceful nation these days. My brother is the first knight sent on errantry in the last decade and I doubt another will be sent out for another ten.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Marius said. “Although it is true that a certain perspective on things will be lost. For example, a man of arms in a violent world will find a lot of market for his abilities. Even if he is wise enough to limit the clients he accepts to those he finds at least a little morally upright he will be forever in demand.”

“Sounds very dangerous.”

“Incredibly so, senorita, and not always in the ways you would think.” A single tile landed on Marius’ board with an almost inaudible tap. “You see, it warps a man’s perspective. And the more the man tries to be upright and honorable in his ways the more his own perspective is twisted in unnatural shapes. The more you safely solve problems by scattering danger among others, the more invincible you think you are. The more you champion causes you believe are just the more infallible you think your conscience becomes.”

There was an odd, mournful harmony to his words. It wasn’t in his voice itself but seemed to resonate from something deeper within. Listening to it forced her to look past her immediate annoyance at what he said because she sensed this was what was really driving him, not his claims about serving Tetzlan or the future of lithomancy in that nation. “What does that have to do with Mr. Harper and the stone?”

“As I said, his perspective is warped. He overestimates how safe his place for the stone is and, just as importantly, he underestimates how dangerous the stone is to him.” The tiles began to scrape across Marius’ board. The earth below began to rumble in harmony with them, subtly shifting as the powers below stirred to waking. “Simply put, Mr. Harper is not taking the necessary care with the cornerstone. It’s not even a question of whether or not he can properly safeguard it from people who would try to steal it for their own ends, although I am very concerned about that as well. The real danger is that the stone will eventually ensnare him.”

“I’ve seen him under the influence of powerful entities, senor, and it didn’t do as much to him as you might think.”

“Oh, I have a good notion of how much or little influence Huaxili might have. The problem is that a god doesn’t need much influence over a mortal, just a moment of weakness long enough to fool a person into touching the stone is sufficient for him.” The tiles came to a stop on the board but the earth underfoot continued to sing. Its melody was deep and dark, full of the rhythms of grinding bones and gnashing teeth, the dire chant of the restless deeps. “A mercenary makes a very poor guardian, senorita. We take a job, we complete it and we move on, taking a respite when we have the chance of it. All the while growing more confident in our abilities. A guardian can never rest, never move on, and never knows when they are falling short in their duties. Confidence is their greatest poison. Just by keeping the stone nearby, Roy Harper is constantly exposing himself to one of the dangers he is least suited to deal with.”

An anxious vice closed in on Cassie’s heart and her breath quickened. “I suppose that could be. What would happen if he touched the stone? Surely it couldn’t be powerful enough to kill him on its own, could it?”

“He might be better off if it did.” The ground trembled as the bluff underfoot split open and the dirge of the deep paused as if the earth itself was waiting for a cue. “The gods of Tetzlan were blood masons, senorita. Their power came from a gluttonous thirst for the living essence of mortal creatures. Living essence, senorita. You cannot get blood from the dead so Huaxili has no use for them. If the fallen lords of Tetzlan wake enough to cast their influence over Mr. Harper then I doubt he would die for a long, long time.”

In the lengthening shadows it was difficult for Cassie’s weakened eyes to make out what it was Marius had conjured, but she could guess. Plates of stone ground together, creating a constant basso profundo foundation. Pebbles rang as they clattered to the ground. The dirt all around sang in adoration as the bedrock elemental moved through it.

Although she couldn’t make out the true shape of the elemental she could see Marius’ long shadow step up into the elemental as he said, “Trust me, Ms. Fairchild, it’s better for us all if I take it back with me. We can cleanse our land. Your host gets rid of the danger lurking in his blind spot. You don’t have to agree with the way I’m going about it but I know you can hear the truth of it in my voice. So stay here and let me take care of this. We’ll all be better off that way.”

The elemental folded up with Marius inside, burrowing into the earth off towards the Manor leaving Cassie in the growing dark, wrapped in a blanket and struggling to think of a reason not to do exactly as Marius suggested. Try as she might, she couldn’t think of any at all.