The Gods of Dream: An Epic Fantasy

by Daniel Arenson

  Cade heard a soft sound like an ethereal flute, and glimpsed feathery purple light trailing past the valley.

  "Look, Tash!"

  Wisps of colored light, shaped as dragons, glided above the lake below, yellow, green, red, and blue. The beings of light had long bodies and flowing tails like lazy comets, and their eyes shone like stars. They looked like living fireworks. The lightdragons sang in flowing, mournful voices like whale songs. Cade and Tasha listened in wonder.

  In the land whence dreams come

  there walked an elk

  through the forests and plains

  over the mountains and waterfalls

  nibbling on the clover and grass

  Long before all gods and animals

  long before men lived on Earth

  and dreams filled their sleep

  he named himself Yor

  Yor the elk, King of Dream

  first and greatest of its gods

  of infinite wisdom

  of downy antlers

  He had no memory of his birth

  or creation

  He remembered being young

  sprouting like the trees in Autumn Forest

  his antlers growing

  like boughs reaching toward sunlight

  He made himself a home in Dream

  past Hidden Valley Ridge

  at the end of a stony path

  that winds through cliffs of chalk and pine

  There upon the Birthstone he established his dwelling

  and watched the land

  Yor

  King of Dream

  Lord of Eloria

  "What are they singing about?" Tasha asked.

  "I don't know," Cade said. The lightdragons glittered over the lake, painting its surface with colored light beads. "I don't know why, but it sounds ancient and... holy. Like a psalm."

  The dragons glided over the water, coiling and soaring and gliding again, as if they were dancing.

  For many eras the elk wandered

  admiring the seashores and mountains

  his kingdom

  until he came upon Caterpillar Meadow

  Sunlight fell upon Yor's antlers there

  and lit his heart

  and he shed tears for the beauty he beheld

  He fed upon the bindweed and milkweed

  and lay upon carpets of goldenrod and bluebells

  Chubby caterpillars of parti-colored stripes

  crawled over the leaves and blossoms

  eating

  never resting

  competing with ladybugs to see

  who can consume more

  as the flowers and leaves kept growing

  There, in Caterpillar Meadow

  as Yor rested

  sunlight fell upon the flowers

  and a sylvan was born of light and petals

  and she was named Alandria

  Yor beheld her beauty

  and made her his wife amid the flowers

  Tasha yawned. "The song is beautiful and makes me sleepy. I'll rest now."

  The mouse curled up, shut her eyes, and began to breathe deeply. Cade lay awake only a moment more, then fell into slumber with the dragonsong playing.

  Alandria, Queen of Dream!

  How poets have praised thy name

  A faery woman of the woods

  luminous

  crowned by a halo of fireflies

  a wanderer through the forests of Eloria

  Yor, King of Dream!

  May your wife be forever blessed

  In the land whence dreams come

  Yor the elk and Alandria the sylvan

  ruled with wisdom

  sending dreams into the minds of sleepers

  sending beauty into the world

  * * * * *

  Deep underground, he lay moaning, bones shattered.

  The Crunge, they call me, he thought, hatred burning inside him. Laughter bubbled toward his mouth, seeping blood. The Crunge! Feesrog liked the name. He liked these two humans.

  It was dark here at the bottom of the canyon, miles underground, dark and silent, the only sound his moaning, his only companion the pain. Feesrog tried to move, to rise to his feet, then howled in agony. His bones creaked and cracked, and blood soaked his fur. The pain turned the darkness white, blinding white that covered everything. Feesrog fell back, more pain exploding, and for a moment he passed out.

  When he came to, he was panting in fear and memory. He had not hurt so viciously in a long time, in hundreds of years. He remembered, suddenly, the last time such pain had filled him--a memory he never thought would resurface. How many centuries ago was it, that he, Feesrog, had been a mere human like these Cade and Tasha? It was ages beyond thought.

  "He had captured me," Feesrog whispered, blood in his mouth. He. The God of Nightmare. The Great One had broken him then, breaking and rebuilding, twisting and remolding, making him larger, stronger. They had placed the hunger in his belly, the hunger for raw flesh, and the hatred of Dream. With hammers and wrenches, they had broken him into this... what was the word the humans used? The Crunge. Yes. A good name for an Incubus. A good name.

  Feesrog clutched the walls, screaming through the pain, his claws digging into the stone. He forced himself onto his feet. He remembered, too, his wife, his love, from before his days of fur and fang. He no longer knew her name, but he remembered her pale skin, her long black hair, her dark eyes. She had looked like Tasha. She had looked just like his sweet goddess Sunflower.

  "Oh, sweet Cade," the monster hissed. "Oh, sweet Tasha. It is a long climb, yes, sweetlings. A long climb. But my arms are long too."

  He would not let his lord down. He would find them again. Blood trickling, the Crunge began to climb.

  Chapter Six

  Galgev, the Fox God

  He had been seventeen years old, in a faraway country. A simpler world? Perhaps, Cade thought. Perhaps. For a while.

  "Let's go to the market, Cade, Tasha," Father had said. "We'll pick up some fresh bread and strawberries for the weekend."

  The watchmaker wore a long white mustache, though his eyebrows were still thick and black. He fixed watches of gold and diamonds every day, some worth more than he earned in a year, and he himself didn't even wear a watch; his only jewelry was his wedding band, thin gold engraved with Mother's name.

  "Tash!" Cade called. "Get your butt over here, we're going to the market."

  "Not today!" she cried from her bedroom. "I'm painting."

  Mother shrugged and smiled. "You know how she is when she gets her muse." She looked at the paintings of clouds, mountains, and fields of flowers that hung framed from their home walls. The talented twin, Cade thought with just a touch of bitterness. Sometimes she thinks she's all that. Let her stay and paint then.

  Cade took a deep breath. But that was a long time ago, in a distant place. He looked around him, at the landscapes of Dream, strangely similar to the paintings Tasha would paint in those days. Dream. This is where I am now. Let that memory remain buried. I don't need it.

  He looked at Tasha, just a small mouse now, who sat on his shoulder. She twitched her whiskers at him. "Don't look at me, bro. Watch your step or you'll fall on your butt."

  He kept walking, climbing down pebbly slopes, stepping over fallen pines. The lightdragons had vanished with dawn, and the lake lay clear and silent below. Insects scurried away from logs and stones which Cade's feet overturned, and birds fluttered in the bushes. In the valley, poppies grew from the grass and oats swayed. Groundhog holes littered the earth. Soon Cade reached the lake and washed off the dirt and sweat of the journey. The clear water filled him with vigor. Orange, red, and purple fish swam around him, nibbling at his legs.

  Once, I could forget the world and all its troubles in a place like this, Cade thought. But not today. Today all the beauty and wonder of Dream could not soothe him, not after seeing the monster on the bridge, after seeing that image of Nightmare in Windwhisper's eyes. Cade closed his eyes, but sa
w only the fire and terrors, heard the screams, smelled the stench of burning flesh. Nightmare. The water felt cold, and even when he looked to the clear skies where birds of paradise soared, he shivered.

  While Cade bathed, Tasha found a family of field mice and talked to them in hushed tones. "They are scared," she reported when Cade emerged from the lake. "Yesterday morning, stinking red snakes, creatures they'd never seen here, crawled across the valley. The snakes ate three mice." Tasha shuddered. "I hate snakes, especially now that I'm a mouse."

  The compass pointed away from the valley to the western hills, where the pines gradually gave way to elms and birches. Dry leaves, ferns, and fallen branches covered the earth. The leafy canopy trapped wisps of mist and shadowed their journey. Beams of light broke through here and there, dappling the boles and forest floor. From time to time, Cade glimpsed coyotes peek from behind mossy boulders or fallen logs, their amber eyes sparkling. Robins flew from bough to bough, and glowing blue dragonflies glided around Cade as he walked, leaving wakes of golden powder in the air. How many miles have I walked already? His calves felt knotty.

  "You're lucky you get to ride on my shoulder," he told Tasha. "I'm going to need new feet by the time this quest is over."

  In the afternoon, the jeweled compass led them across sheets of stone and large boulders, the size of trucks, that jutted from the earth like tombstones for gods. Fewer trees grew here, and Cade felt grateful to travel in full sunlight again, even if progress was slow. At some places, he needed to use his hands for support on smooth slopes, moving on all fours.

  He was crawling across a bulging boulder coated with ivy when Tasha, riding on Cade's shoulder, whispered, "Look! To the north."

  Cade turned and saw, three hundred yards away, a great elk standing upon a cliff. It seemed as large as a horse, and its antlers grew like the roots of trees. The stag regarded them, and Cade felt awe, terror, and love pierce him. There was something omnipotent about the elk, powerful and omnibenevolent. Not knowing why, Cade dropped to one knee.

  The elk regarded them for a moment longer, then walked away, disappearing into the trees.

  "What do you make of him, Cade?" Tasha asked. "I don't know why, but he scared me. Not scared in a bad way, to be clear, but in a good way, if that makes sense. Almost as if he were so powerful and great, he made me feel even smaller than usual."

  "Didn't the dragons sing of an elk?" Cade asked. "He's of some importance here, I'll bet. I think I glimpsed him on our first day here too. I wonder why he didn't approach."

  Tasha shivered. "I'm glad he didn't. He seemed to me almost like some solemn father around whom children dare not squeak or play. I'll be just as happy if we never see him again."

  They did not see the elk again that day, but at night, as they lay down to sleep on soft grass, Cade dreamed of the stag standing upon a cliff, antlers raised, eyes watching.

  * * * * *

  In the morning, they walked among mossy maples and boulders. Lichen hung from the branches like curtains, elfcups jutted from the tree trunks, and fallen trees littered the ground, coated with toadstools and cobwebs. Tiny faeries with butterfly wings cavorted among the trunks and toadstools, but fled and hid whenever Cade moved close. They laughed from behind branches and never let him gaze at them for too long. He only caught glimpses of them from the corner of his eyes. Here and there, he spotted structures the faeries must have built--circles of stone, piles of twigs, or intricate hangings woven of leaf and grass.

  Cade reached under his shirt and caressed the compass that hung around his neck, thinking of home. How much longer will this journey take? How large is Dream? Thank God Tasha came along; I'd have gone crazy with loneliness without her. He patted the mouse's fur.

  "Hey, Cade, what's that?" Tasha said, pointing ahead.

  Cade looked between the mossy trees. Ahead he saw a stone wall hewn of rough gray bricks, overlaid with flowers and coated with vines. An arched gateway broke the wall, abloom with flowers, statues of foxes guarding it.

  "Since the bridge, this is our first sign of civilization," he said.

  "It smells wonderful," Tasha said. "I can smell a hundred types of flowers."

  Cade stepped through the gateway and found himself in a sprawling garden. Statues of faeries and animals stood amid mossy rocks, overgrown with roses. Mottles of sunlight fell upon patches of daisies, forget-me-nots, jasmines, and a hundred other flowers Cade could not name. Urns and barrels full of more flowers lay strewn about, and stone fountains sprouted streams of water. Rivulets ran across the garden, gurgling and splashing in tiny waterfalls. This was not a meticulous garden, where flowers stood ordered like soldiers amid shortly-hewn grass; it was a wild garden where things grew untamed and random.

  Cade wandered the garden in wonder, eyes wide. He had never seen a more beautiful sanctuary. It was then that he saw the gardener.

  The man had his back facing them, clad in a cloak and hood. He was kneeling by a patch of goldenrods, patting the earth, sunlight falling around him. As he sang softly to the flowers, they grew and bloomed as if coaxed merely by his voice.

  "Hey, Mister!" Tasha called. "Got any apples growing in this garden of yours?"

  The man turned around, and Cade saw that he was not a man at all. His body was that of a man, but his head was the head of a fox, tawny and furred with soft brown eyes.

  "Hello, Tasha," the gardener said. "Hello, Cade. Welcome to the Enchanted Garden. I am Galgev."

  * * * * *

  An hour later, Cade was seated in a plush sofa inside Galgev's home, resting his feet on a footstool. He held a horn of sweet wine, while on the table before him lay a steaming bowl of barley soup, loaves of bread, piles of vegetables, spicy potato wedges, and bowls of sour cream. Tasha sat on his shoulder, nibbling a Golden Delicious apple from Galgev's pantry. It's always been the only kind of apple she'd eat, Cade remembered.

  The home was small, merely a burrow carved into a hillside and hidden by a curtain of roots and vines. And yet it was cozy, with rugs covering the floors and candles burning in iron sconces. Windows broke the earthen walls, letting in streams of sunlight. The floor was made of rings of wood set side by side, clay filling the spaces in between. Shelves covered the walls. Dream catchers, geodes, flutes, seashells, and a hundred other curiosities covered the shelves alongside leather-bound books in a language Cade did not recognize.

  Galgev, the man with the fox head, sat under a window, gazing at Cade with a smile. He ate little, only nibbling some grapes, while Cade and Tasha stuffed themselves as if they had not eaten for a year. Cade slowly felt strength refill him. Hiking for days through the wilderness, living on mushrooms and apples and nuts, had tired him.

  "This is the best meal I've had in a long time," he said. "It's been a long journey."

  Galgev refilled Cade's horn. The chilly wine tasted like raspberries and honey. "And there is much yet to walk. Dream is a large land. Windwhisper forgets how large it can be for those with no wings and merely two legs to walk on." Galgev smiled.

  "So you know the hawk," Cade said.

  Galgev nodded. "I have known him all his life. He visited here just before flying to Earth to find you." Galgev smiled again. "We have kept your quest secret from Phobetor, but there are some friends here who know... and are helping as best they can, even if you're unaware of them."

  With soft thunder, it began to rain. The rain pattered against the leaves, roof, and ground. As he listened to the pattering of rain on the forest, Cade gradually became aware of a soft music coming from outside. It sounded like soft pipes, wind chimes, and pianos, yet organic. It seemed to come from all directions, as if the entire forest sang. It sounded like soft glowing light. Cade had never imagined soft glowing light could have a sound until now.

  Galgev looked to the window. "The trees and faeries are singing. They sing when they drink."

  Cade looked over Galgev's shoulder at a statue of an elk, carved in cherry wood, which stood upon a shelf. The statue almost seemed to star
e back.

  "I saw a great elk in the forest," he said, gazing into the statue's ruby eyes. "And I heard lightdragons singing about him."

  "It is the Dreamsong you heard," Galgev said softly. "Tam, the god of music, wrote it. You heard but a small part, the part of Yor. You're lucky to have seen the elk. Few have, even those who've lived in Dream for many ages."

  Cade took a bite from a loaf of grainy bread and chewed thoughtfully. "Have you met him?"

  Galgev smiled. "Yes. I have met him." The man with the fox head looked at the rain pattering outside the window and began to sing softly, his voice earthy and deep like wells of pure water. Cade recognized the tune the dragons sang, the music of the Dreamsong.

  Yor created a guardsman for his daughter

  a teacher and companion for Princess Niv

  Yor, the Father Elk, shaped a god of Dream

  granting him the body of a man

  the head of a fox

  Galgev, he named him

  Galgev, protector of Niv

  the god of loyalty

  He granted him the Enchanted Garden to be his home

  A gate abloom with flowers leads into the Garden

  where every known flower blossoms

  where fountains and statues live coated with petals

  dappled in sunlight

  and birds fly

  Here, in the Enchanted Garden, did Galgev live

  and teach Niv his princess

  and praise Yor's name in the sunlight

  Suddenly Galgev fell silent. He tensed and leaned toward the window, his ears cocking, his nose sniffing. Tasha was doing the same, whiskers twitching.

  "What is it?" Cade whispered.

  "Evil," Tasha replied, sniffing. "The garden stinks with it."

  Cade felt fear wash over him. Beyond the patter of rain and singing trees, he thought he could hear something outside, sniffing and grunting and padding through the garden. Suddenly, out the window, he glimpsed a black figure covered with spikes and hooks, its fangs and horns long and cruel, its eyes red. It did not see him.