should be offended. In the end, he opted for, “I hope you value persistence.”
“It can be annoying.” Dari patted his hand. “And at times, endearing.”
Later, in the cool heat of the fall sunlight at midday, as the forge master fastened Aron into the body-sized box where he would stand and observe the world through a tiny slit in the metal door until the master released him, he wondered which one he might be to Dari—annoying or endearing.
Then he wondered if he truly wanted to know the answer.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
ARON
Annoying.
Endearing.
Was one better than the other?
Aron did his best to focus on what he was supposed to observe, but his thoughts wouldn’t leave him alone.
“What do you see, boy?” The forge master’s voice rasped through the box’s metal opening, pushing the scent of chewed roast and cream ale into the stuffy space. Aron couldn’t see the man, but he could imagine the tall, brown-bearded giant. The forge master usually wore nothing but gray breeches during the workday, donning his robes only for meals and after-daylight activities.
How long had Aron been in the box? Three hours? Four? He had lost track, and in truth it didn’t matter, for he would be there until the forge master set him loose. His longest stretch so far had been six hours, and Stormbreaker had brought him two dinner portions to help him recover.
Aron’s stomach rumbled, and his knees and ankles felt numb, but he stared through the opening and gave a full report. “The byway, three pine trunks, the eastern stream three hands below normal, and the eastern tip of the mock battlefield with no combatants visible.”
“Anything unusual?” the forge master’s question was casual, but Aron knew the force of the cuffing his ears might take if he answered incorrectly.
“No, forge master.”
The man sniffed, which he usually did if Aron was correct. “Are you certain?”
Aron relaxed against the warm metal sides of the box for a moment. “Yes, forge master.”
“Your life may depend on certainty. Stay alert.”
Aron closed his eyes and held his breath, bracing for what came next.
The box swung in a tight circle, around and around and around, propelled on its wheel by the heavy-armed forge master until Aron thought his entire brain must be spinning. It was hot in the box this time of day, even so late into the fall, and the combination of hours and fatigue and heat and the smells of the forge master’s lunch made Aron’s stomach lurch as the box stopped.
Facing Endurance House, and beyond that, the Shrine of the Mother.
Aron turned his head, feeling his pulse surge in his ears.
By the Brother’s grace, he would not be left in this position terribly long.
The forge master’s boots ground against the rock of the forge yard as he strode away.
And time began to pass and stand still, and stretch and pull in ways Aron couldn’t begin to explain.
Now and again, he glanced in the direction he was supposed to study, but almost immediately, a silvery light would flare from the Shrine, a light Aron could imagine his dangerous Goddess striding through and reaching beyond to grab hold of him and finally force him to accept one of her terrible “gifts” or “blessings.”
I am no oathbreaker. I will not become an oathbreaker.
Even with the blessings of a Goddess, he would not surrender that bit of himself, of his true identity, given to him by his father and now fostered by Stormbreaker and Stone itself.
Minutes later—though it might have been much less or much longer—the voices of apprentices rattled through the training yard. Newer voices. Perhaps of the newer apprentices not consigned to the High Master’s Den.
“I’m the Bandit,” one boy said.
“No, it’s me today. I’m Canus, and I’m going to kill your soldiers and take your winter stores!”
Eyes closed, Aron frowned at the admiration in the boy’s voice, and he wished he could wheel the box around and confront the two upstarts about holding a criminal in reverence.
You’re Stone apprentices now, he wanted to tell them. Canus the Bandit is your prey, not your hero.
The sound of practice swords clattering against each other blotted out his next thoughts, and he dared a quick glance at his target area. More eerie light from the Shrine. Some odd darkness rising off Endurance House. Nothing else that he could see in his cursory appraisal. Aron closed his eyes again as the bells on the battlement rang, announcing the return of members of the Stone Guild who had been away. So many were out hunting,