Bone War Read Free

Despite—or because of—the setting sun, more and more people were moving into the market. Talfi loved the market at this time of day. Thousands of voices rose in a colorful quilt of shouts and haggles and cries as people bought and sold everything from fish to flowers, from silver to saffron, from sugar to shovels. Anything he could think of, and many things he couldn’t, came up for sale here, and something astonishing was always tugging at the corner of his eye. And lately it had just gotten better. Stalls that only two years ago had closed themselves up after dark now set out torches or lanterns and kept on selling while right beside them stalls that were shuttered for the day opened for business.
    The difference was the Stane.
    More than a thousand years ago, the Stane—dwarfs, trolls, and giants—had ruled the world with mostly benevolent intent. They had forged strong bonds with the Kin—orcs, humans, and merfolk—and they had brushed away the Fae—fairies, elves, and sprites. But over time, the Stane had grown corrupt in their power, stealing magic from the Kin and manipulating the Fae. Eventually, the downtrodden Fae had taken up arms against the Stane, and both sides called down terrible magics that sundered the continent itself and killed countless thousands. The Stane were banished to Glumenhame under the Iron Mountains, and the kindly Fae worked hard to restore the world. Folk said that Ashkame, the Great Tree of Life, had tipped, turned upsidedown, so that the Stane were at the bottom and the Fae were at the top, with the Kin always in the middle.
    But in time, the Fae had also become corrupt, and the downtrodden Stane had risen up against them. Once again, their battle had nearly destroyed the world, but Talfi and his friends had put a stop to it. Barely. The Fae were pushed back into their own kingdom, and the Stane were released from their underground prison, once again able to walk in open air. But only at night—sunlight caused the Stane enormous pain.
    That had happened not even three years ago. Until then, the city-state of Balsia had been a human country. But after the Stane emerged from under the mountain, Balsia’s ruler, the young Prince Karsten, had started letting trolls and dwarfs into Balsia. At first they had been useful workers with strong backs, but the dwarfs were cunning craftsmen and many trolls were skilled merchants, and they had quickly woven themselves into the fabric of Balsian society.
    But because of the sunlight pain, the incoming Stane did their work indoors or underground. Or at night.
    Twilight at the market square was before the humans closed up and after the Stane opened, and it fascinated Talfi no end. Who would ever have thought Kin and Stane would work side by side? Short, twisted dwarfs with beards down to their knees sold intricately carved toys that sang and dolls that danced, silver teapots that kept water hot, and even full-fledged golems of stone and clay alongside human woolmongers, weavers, and apothecaries. Nine-foot-tall trolls with jutting lower jaws, swarthy skin, and night black hair trudged barefoot across the cobblestones with great baskets on their shoulders, their rumbling voices mingling with the higher-pitched ones of human men and women who also browsed the stalls, buying, gossiping, and arguing at the tops of their lungs in the lengthening shadows and flickering torches.
    Not all humans were satisfied with the new arrangement. Even as Talfi watched, some merchants closed uptheir stalls or packed up their pushcarts in a tight-faced huff and left when the trolls and dwarfs opened for business. More than one gave Ranadar a wide berth as well until he remembered himself and pulled up the hood on his scarlet cloak to hide his pointed ears and cast his exotic features into shadow. Elves weren’t well liked in Balsia, either—an elf’s lingering touch was addictive, and turned humans into happy, willing slaves.