Blood and Stone
an excerpt

"I don't get it Chronos, tell me again. From the beginning." Bayne covered the width of his bedroom in two strides then turned and walked across in the other direction. His moccasin-clad feet didn't make a sound as he paced, holding his sword with two hands in front of him. Each time he pivoted his bone-white hair whipped around his shoulders, once or twice brushing up against the bare wood walls.

Thoughts he knew were the sword's touched his mind, and he could feel the barely restrained frustration behind each one. It's used up – it took all the power left in the stone to reverse your vampirism

Bayne sighed. "Yeah, I got that part. I'm not stupid – and that's not the beginning."

You're not stupid? Really? Than how did—

"Chronos!"

From the beginning then. Once upon a time there was a dragon named Phrake.

"I got that part. Dragon, Gods, dragon egg, ceremony, sacrifice, magic stone. Got it. How about you start at your beginning, smart ass."

I started existence as a piece of ore, that got mined by—

"Fack! I get it, okay? It's not funny anymore. Would you just – argh!" Bayne stopped pacing and stood in the middle of the room, gritting his teeth. After a long moment spent staring at the floor and counting slowly, he took a deep breath and started again. "Was the stone what made you magical?"

You know, I could hear your thoughts if you'd stop blocking me out, then you wouldn't have to talk out loud.

"I know, which is one reason I'm blocking you out. Now. Why are you being so difficult? It's not a tough question."

Isn't it? Okay then smart guy, then why are you so strong? What makes you a good swordsman? Aside from me, of course.

"I dunno, I just am."

Chronos said nothing, but Bayne could feel a contented hum he knew belonged to the sword. "Okay, I get it. You don't know, you just are. Gods, you could have just said so."

Or you could have just not been a moron.

"I'm not a...damn it, stop baiting me."

Then stop being so easy to bait.

"So, when did you lose the stone."

Right before your mother stole me. Lucky for her the scholar who gouged – do you hear me – gouged the stone from my pommel didn't realize the rock wasn't the only magical thing about me or else no doubt he'd have pursued her and she'd have had her neck stretched, and then, oh no – there would be no Bayne and no Colby to grace the –

"What has gotten into you today? You're not usually this much of an ass."

And you're not usually this much of a history buff.

"I just want to understand, okay?"

Fat chance of that.

"Fack. You know what? I'm going out."

Out where?

"Just out." Bayne snatched a dirty and ratty scabbard off the patchwork quilt on his bed and slid the two-handed sword into it.

Wait, you have to take me—

Bayne dropped the weapon on the bed, simultaneously breaking his mental and physical connections with it. "Fat chance of that."