Melting Stones - By Tamora Pierce Page 0,44

meet daughters or say the blessing over the new grandbaby.

But Luvo was not like that. Luvo was not everyday. I wasn't everyday. I was Luvo's friend, and I had no liking for people. They were fine as long as they left me alone, of course. I preferred cats and rocks.

I put my stones on the table next to those I had gathered that day. Azaze and the carpenter moved aside so Tahar and Jayat could see them. "Ask the stones, Mage Tahar, Jayat. Stones don't lie or make up pretty stories. Ask them what their nature is, where they came from. What they came from. Don't ask me, I'm a lying chit trying to get out of being in trouble. Ask the stones how they got made."

I sat at the table where Luvo stood. Even with Lark's blanket around me, I guessed I had overdone things. I was feeling cranky. I'd been up at dawn to traipse all over their silly island. I had tried to see where their precious source of mage-strength had gone. Then look what had happened to me! Catch me warning people their stupid home was going to blow up again.

Now that Rosethorn and Myrrhtide knew the problem was nothing to do with plants or water, we could go home. Against volcano spirits, my magic and theirs was helpless. Our ship was waiting for us in Sustree. I didn't even care that it meant another week at sea. I'd have the new rocks I'd gathered here to entertain me. And maybe a view of the volcano when it finally exploded. That would be really interesting.

Jayat and Tahar drew spell designs on the floor. Their lips moved as they called on the rocks to show where they came from. I sighed. It was taking forever.

Then I had to smile at myself. I was spoiled. In the old days, in Chammur, magic never happened at a snap of the fingers. We waited for the mage to dance, shake rattles, burn herbs, or spin a prayer wheel a hundred times, until the mage was ready and the magic was done or failed.

It wasn't until I knew Rosethorn and Briar that magic turned into something at the speed of, "Here you go."

I smelled heating stone first. It's a dry smell, like the sun in the desert. Grains of dirt and dried leaf from the rocks I hadn't cleaned were baking. Then the leaves burned outright. I shook my head. In a good spell, the heat that the stones remembered would never escape the spell. If the leaf bits were burning, there would be scorch marks on the table, too. Azaze had better not blame me.

My pieces of mica started to crack. I wasn't bothered. I'd collect more on the way back to the ship.

A little volcano image appeared over each rock. Jayat looked up from the design on the floor. He was sweating. He made a swirling motion with his hand. The little volcanoes formed one big image, one big volcano that stood over six feet tall. Just as the single image came together, a blast of smoke and stones blew the mountain's side out. Everyone flinched, though the blast—the eruption, my books back home called it—went through them like a ghost, and vanished.

Tahar sighed. The image disappeared. The room seemed darker, though the lamps and the fire still burned. I went over and picked up a beautiful pink granite chunk I had found that morning. It would have burned anyone else. Just as I thought, it left a scorch mark on the table. My lovely mica was just ruined. They might have to scrape that off the wood.

The nervous herder gulped her tea before she spoke. "But—I don't understand. Where was the lake? Where was Mount Grace?"

"This happened thousands of centuries ago." Rosethorn rubbed her eyes. "Didn't you look at the trees? The only time you'll ever see leaves like that is captured in stone, just as you'll find animal and fish skeletons. They're the ancestors of your trees. The distant ancestors."

"But our lake." Just like her goats, the Herd Mistress wouldn't let go of something she had her teeth into.

"The place where the volcano erupted…" Tahar was hoarse.

Jayat poured her a cup of tea.

Once she finished drinking, Tahar went on. "Where the volcano blew out its side, that became our lake. The remains of the volcano became the spine of our Mount Grace." She looked at me. "The child found countless rocks here which were born in a