Stonecast by Anton Strout Read Free Book Online Page A

and she slumped to the floor of the guild hall, her head cracking against the stone.
    “Rory!” I cried out, but there was no response.
    The stranger blurred past me, heading back to the glass case.
    “What did you do to her?” I asked him, afraid.
    The man ignored me and helped himself to a variety of my great-great-grandfather’s vials and tubes.
    “What did you do to her?” I shouted this time as I lunged for him, but with my feet stuck as they were, all I managed to do was send a sharp pain through my right ankle.
    “Don’t worry,” he said with the hint of a cocky smile on his lips. “She’s not dead. Just sleeping.”
    That was a relief, but it didn’t quell my desire to smack the smile off of his smug face. Realizing I was wasting my anger, I tried my power at the stone surrounding my feet again, but it remained unresponsive. I turned my frustration to something I could manipulate—the stone table I had slid across the room. Using my mind to pull it apart brick by brick, I fired them one after another at the man, but his speed helped him avoid my barrage as he continued pillaging the cabinet.
    He turned to face me, waggling a fistful of tubes in my face.
    “Thanks for the supplies,” he said, and had the audacity to wink at me before turning and speeding out of the guild hall.
    Outraged and trapped as I was, I jumped straight up, hoping to at least come out of my sinking shoes, but only managed to send sharp pains through
both
my ankles this time, which also unbalanced me. I went down hard on my ass, and, despite what I perceived as a lot of padding to it, I felt the stone slam hard up against my bones, which took all the fire out of me.
    Anger gave way to humiliation as I lay there, hurt, but all of that went away as my mind cleared and my thoughts turned to Rory, lying not more than ten feet from me, still unconscious. I needed to check on her . . . and where the hell was Marshall? With the stranger gone and my wits somewhat calmed, I reached out with my hands to the stone encasing my feet.
    The stuff was impossible to grab ahold of, both solid and malleable at the same time, almost like trying to grab handfuls of quicksand. Using my will, I worked it around in my head, which also tried my patience in the process, and I once more felt my control over the stone returning as the effects of whatever the stranger had done to it faded. The rock gave way to my spell and thoughts, and I pulled my feet free, my boots covered in a thick black powder of stone.
    I ran over to Rory, careful not to twist my ankle on any of the broken bricks of the floor as I went to her.
    Movement in the doorway caught my attention.
    “Don’t start the party without me,” Marshall sang out in a singsong voice. “Surprise!” He stepped into the room smiling, holding a large tray stuffed with an array of food. When he saw me kneeling beside Rory, the smile vanished from his face.
    “Marshall!” I shouted at him. “What the hell took you so long?”
    “I told you I had to pee,” he said in a quiet voice, looking worried. “Then I thought I’d surprise you with some snacks while we went over our notes and stuff. So I raided your fridge. I washed my hands first . . .” His words trailed off for a moment as his mind worked to process what he was seeing, his eyes fixating on Rory’s fallen form. “Is she okay? What happened?”
    “Someone was down here,” I said. “In here. Now help me.”
    Marshall dropped his tray, full of drinks and assorted snacks, on the main stone table at the center of the room and ran over to us. Falling to his knees. “Can we move her?” he asked.
    “I’m not sure,” I said. “I don’t want to make anything worse.”
    The two of us quickly looked her over. There were no visible signs of damage, but that didn’t mean jack.
    Marshall moved closer to her, and I reached out a hand to push him back.
    “I’m not going to touch her,” he said, hurt. “I just want to try