Set in Stone by Frank Morin

tough, but Connor had grown up surrounded by men as tough as the granite they quarried. Not even the three strongest men in Alasdair together could have lifted that barge.
    The stories of the Grandurians hadn't said anything about their incredible strength. As Erich pushed himself away from the barge, a fresh shiver of fear rolled down Connor's spine. This man could crush him if he chose.
    Beside him, Verena stood bouncing the rock on her palm. "I love watching him do stuff like that."
    "How is it possible?"
    "I am Rumbler, that how," Erich said.
    Before Connor could ask another question, Verena held up the stone and said, "Slate, touched by a Builder. I call it a Wallstone."
    "A Wallstone?" Connor repeated softly, eyes glued to the little rock. He couldn't comprehend how it worked, but the wonder of it pushed aside some of his fear.
    "Lady," Erich hissed. "No talk about this."
    Verena huffed, "It's my rock. I'll talk about it with whomever I choose." She held it to her ear and shook it, as if she could hear some sound it made. "This has power for one, maybe two more walls." She extended it to Connor. "You show us how to cross the mountain, and I'll give it to you."
    Connor took the rounded rock and ran his hands across the smooth, dark green slate. It looked completely unremarkable, barely filling his palm. He stared from it to the grounded barge. These people were foreign in so much more than their nationality.
    "How did you get here?" he dared ask.
    "It's a long story."
    "I love stories."
    "Later," Erich growled. "Need go home."
    "He's right," Verena said. "All that matters is getting home before something bad happens."
    Was that a threat? What would they do if he refused? Would they kill him and look for another victim? Would they attack Alasdair and kill his family?
    He couldn't risk it.
    "I'm heading for Merkland," he offered. "I could take you there and help you find the pass to Granadure."
    Erich hissed when he mentioned Merkland, and Verena shook her head. "I told you, we can't go that way."
    "Much fight there," Erich said, gripping the hilt of his sword. "Much kill."
    "We don't want any trouble," Verena added.
    Connor retreated a step from the hulking soldier and mental images of the powerful man wreaking terrible destruction in Merkland. High Lord Dougal's fighting men lived there, but could they stand against so powerful a foe?
    The Curse Hunters had to arrive in Alasdair for the Sogail. He'd have to risk the attempt to petition them when Lady Isobel wasn't around. He could get these Grandurians out of Obrion, and still secure Patronage.
    It's what a Guardian would do.
    Connor made his decision. "I know a way around Mount Ingram. I'll show you."
    "Done." Verena gave a little clap of excitement. "I knew you could help us." Then she added, "Be careful with that stone. When you drop it, it'll make a wall."
    Connor tucked it into his belt pouch. "Thanks."
    "Come." Verena took his arm and led the way into the pine trees lining the west bank of the river, and turned downriver. Erich trailed close behind Connor.
    "Hold on, the path is upriver."
    "I know, silly. We have to fetch the others first."
    "Others?"
    Of course there would be others. It made no sense for just two Grandurians to wander all this way. But how many others? How'd they get lost in the first place? What were they doing way out here?
    They followed a narrow trail a couple hundred yards downriver while Connor's doubts grew. He liked walking so close to Verena, but she was Grandurian, so maybe she wasn't as nice as she pretended. Firelight shone in the darkness through the trees, and a moment later, Verena led them into a clearing with a modest campfire around which sat more than a dozen men, and a couple of women.
    Most of the men were soldiers wearing chainmail coats painted black over black leather jerkins, with swords or axes swinging from their belts.
    It's a war party , Connor realized. What have I gotten myself into?
    He stopped in his tracks, but