The Gods of Dream: An Epic Fantasy

by Daniel Arenson

  Tasha glanced around. "Escape? I don't know, Cade. A hundred of those slimy eels fill the room."

  Cade nodded. "And over a thousand slaves." He took a deep breath and placed Tasha on his shoulder. "Just follow my lead."

  With that, Cade stepped onto the table and kicked off his bowl. It clanged against the floor. Everybody turned to look. Cade was suddenly shocked at his recklessness, but he swallowed his fear. I have to do this now, before I change my mind.

  "Everybody, follow me," he cried. "We break free!"

  He started running toward the doorway. The eelmen howled and rushed toward him.

  "Follow me!" he cried.

  The slaves all stared, terrified and paralyzed. The eelmen surrounded him, and electricity flew from their fingertips, knocking Cade down. Whips landed on him, and he doubled over in pain. One of the eelmen--the one who first captured Cade--stepped toward him.

  "I warned you, slave. Now you die."

  * * * * *

  Niv stood upon the mountaintop, overlooking Dream as clouds streamed around her, blond hair flying in the wind, and all who looked upon her saw her father's majesty.

  Around her upon the mountainsides, the wraiths were flowing over her troops, clawing and biting, and whatever flesh they touched turned icy white. The bodies of Elorians lay in blood, arms sticking up like tombstones, faces frozen in anguish.

  Clad in gilded armor, Niv raised her Dreamblade--the sword Whisper, reemerged into Dream after centuries. It glittered on the mountaintop, a beacon alight over Dream.

  "Fight for Dream!" the Half-Elk princess called over the din of battle, her voice like thunder, and lightning flashed around her. "Fight for Yor."

  The troops saw her glowing Dreamblade, and their faces brightened, and their blows struck with more strength.

  "Whisper! Whisper has returned."

  The wraiths only laughed, mocking, their eyes dripping pus. Loor stood behind, high upon the mountain, a dark stain overseeing the battle. Niv tightened her lips. Loor may stand aside as troops die for him, but I will fight.

  She leapt forward, landed in the sea of men and wraiths, and began spinning her gleaming sword. Her elk hoofs kicked, and her blade shot like lightning, whirring in circles so swiftly, it appeared as a disk of light. Elorians gasped around her. Let any survivors, in ages to come, say that here they saw a goddess incensed... and let them call it glorious.

  Above the din of battle, Niv heard voices she had not heard in many days, and it filled her eyes with tears.

  "Take that, wraiths!" cried Harmony the pegacat, flying a hundred yards to the east, clawing at the wraiths.

  "Eloria will stand!" Starlight answered the call, her own claws slashing.

  My pets. Tears streamed down Niv's face and her heart quivered within her. My brave pegacats.

  "The pegacats!" the troops called. "The pegacats have arrived, blessed be Yor. The gods fight with us."

  Niv leapt across the mountain, slicing wraith after wraith, dispersing their fog. Yet for each one she slew, five more emerged from the caves, and anguish filled Niv.

  "Fight them!" she called to her troops. "Behind me, rally here."

  Yet they could not. When the men tried to rally, wraiths leapt into their midst, scattering them. They could not regroup, and more and more men fell. How many are dead? Hundreds. No, it must be thousands by now.

  Tears burned in Niv's eyes, yet she continued to fight, slaying the ghosts. She looked up the mountainside to Loor and tightened her lips. It is him I must kill.

  She leapt, spinning in the air, and landed behind the wraiths she fought. She bounded up the mountain, flying fifty yards with each leap, toward the Sad God. A hundred wraiths materialized around him, crashing into Niv.

  "Loor!" she cried in anguish, eyes shut, the iciness piercing her. The wraiths swarmed around her, and her fur froze. Her blade dropped from her hands. She fell, the earth shook, and boulders rolled.

  "Niv, Niv, a goddess for us!" the wraiths chanted in impossibly high-pitched, echoing voices. "Niv, Niv, for the Afterlife."

  "Father!" Niv cried in pain, weeping, for she knew that she would die here. She flapped her arms and kicked her hoofs, and the wraiths mobbed her, crowding above her, and in the distance she heard Loor laughing.

  It ends here. Forgive me, Father, I have failed you.

  Suddenly: The furious cry of a girl above her, and light upon her face.

  "You will not take her!" shouted the girl, and Niv opened her eyes and saw Moonmist standing above her. The princess was swinging the Dawnstone, keeping the wraiths at bay.

  Niv leapt to her hoofs, grabbed the fallen Whisper from the ground, and stood by Moonmist. The Half-Elk and the Elorian princess stood back to back, swinging their swords in a sea of wraiths.

  Niv looked down the mountain and her heart fell. She had brought ten thousand men. Nine thousand at least lay dead, frozen, icy-white, faces locked in anguish and fingers paralyzed as claws. The rest will soon join the dead, Niv knew. The chilling realization filled her: I cannot win this battle.

  "Moonmist! Hold onto me." She wrapped her arm around the princess's waist. Moonmist swung her arms around Niv's neck. Niv leapt, flying out of the ring of wraiths. They landed by a tall boulder, for a moment free from battle.

  "Moonmist," Niv said, "go to the River Lands."

  Moonmist stared back, eyes wide. She shook her head. "They will not heed me, Your Highness. They hate Elorians. They shun all who trespass."

  Wraiths leapt around the boulder, and the Dawnstone and Whisper flew.

  "Do as I command!" Niv shouted over the din of battle, her voice hoarse with tears and anguish. "Go to the Lor Ya. Ask for their aid. Do it or Dream falls."

  Her face sooty, her limbs bloody, Princess Moonmist nodded. She swung her Dreamblade, slicing a wraith in half, then raised her blade in salute to her goddess.

  "I pray you draw breath until I return."

  Then the princess turned and ran down the mountainside between thousands of bodies.

  A hundred wraiths swarmed around Niv, and her Dreamblade flew. Around her, more of her men were dying. The wraiths covered her, she fell to the ground, and iciness overcame her.

  The last thing Niv saw was Loor, leaning over her and smiling. He slung her over his shoulder, and then all thought faded, and darkness overcame the Princess of Dream.

  * * * * *

  Cade walked, hands tied behind his back, as the eelmen goaded him forward with spears. Tasha was stuffed into his pocket, her legs bound with thread. Cade was dizzy and weary, shocked and beaten and famished. He could barely drag his feet forward, and fear filled him. He cursed himself. I should have listened to Tasha and never entered this place. Now I'll die, and so will Dream and Earth. The anguish ached in his stomach and throat.

  The eels shoved him through a door, and Cade found himself outside upon a roof, under a sky of swirling gray and green smoke. The air smelled foul, and more chimneys and factories spread for miles around. A lake of ammonia frothed below, raising fumes. It's so ugly here. Such an ugly place to die. Hundreds of eelmen covered the roof, and slaves stared from more roofs around them.

  "Walk," one eelman said, shoving Cade onto a plank that jutted off the roof. The lake gurgled below, and Cade almost lost his balance. He swayed on the plank over the poisonous lake.

  "I guess this is it, Tasha," Cade said to his twin. He swallowed a lump in his throat. So this is how our life ends, after all we've been through. "I'm sorry I led us here. It's my fault."

  "You're damn right it is!" Tasha called from his pocket.

  A group of eelmen stepped onto the roof, clad in golden armor, carrying drums and drumsticks of ivory. Strings of gilded teeth hung around their necks. They began to beat their drums and chant songs in the language of Nightmare.

  Trumpets blew, and a bent old eelman stepped onto the roof between his armored brethren. This eel wore a samite robe studded with firegems. He held a scepter crowned with a ruby the size of a fist. A second ruby glistene
d on his forehead.

  The old eelman stepped toward the edge of the roof and began to chant. "Rise, mighty Leviathan, god of the depths! Rise to feast."

  Cade swallowed. "I don't like this," he whispered to Tasha.

  The lake began to gurgle and bubble. The eelmen all cheered, and the slaves cowered and whimpered. The eelmen beat their drums and chanted at the tops of their lungs, while their leader raised his hands above his head.

  "Rise, great whale of Phobetor. The time to feed has come!"

  A grumble came from the churning lake, so loud that the roof trembled. Cade took a step back, but the eelmen jabbed his back with spears, keeping him on the plank above the lake.

  "Take this offering, Leviathan, in the name of Phobetor!"

  Below Cade, something began to rise from the lake, dripping ammonia. At first it seemed like a black island rising from below, covered with barnacles. But soon a mouth opened, twenty feet wide, full of sharp teeth. Red eyes glared.

  "What is it, Cade?" Tasha cried from his pocket. "I can't see."

  Cade was about to reply, when the eelmen shoved him forward, and he toppled off the plank. Cade screamed as he fell. The creature below opened its mouth wide, and all Cade knew was stench and darkness.

  For a long time, he slid down the whale's throat, waiting to die. Slimy things rubbed against him, heat came from below, and the grumbling of the creature filled his ears. In the distance, muffled, he could still hear the eels cheering.

  "Tash," he cried, "are you all right?"

  "Still alive," Tasha said. "What happened?"

  "A whale swallowed us," Cade said

  "Oh, great. This keeps getting better and better."

  With a splash, they finally fell into a puddle, the floor soft and the darkness complete. We're in the belly of the whale. The world trembled as the whale swam, and its grumbles filled Cade's ears.

  He lay for a moment, catching his breath. He tried to stand up, but with his arms bound behind his back, and the whale squirming, he could barely move. Despair filled him. He could see no way out this time. I've failed Windwhisper. He lowered his head.

  "So this is how it ends," he whispered. "I never thought it would be like this."

  A strange voice answered him, coming from behind. "The end? My friend, all ends are just beginnings." The voice echoed.

  Cade turned his head, tensing, but could see nothing in the darkness. He heard only dripping, echoing water.

  "Who spoke?" he demanded, his voice shaky.

  Another voice, speaking somewhere above, answered. "Welcome, welcome, stranger! Welcome to our world."

  A dozen other voices repeated the cry from all over, echoing. "Welcome, welcome!"

  Cade felt clammy hands touch him, and he started and struggled.

  "Do not fear us," said a voice. "We mean you no harm. Be still and we'll free your hands."

  Cade felt something cut his bonds, and soon his hands were free. He leapt to his feet, but could see nothing in the darkness. He pulled his gems from his pocket, and soft light filled the cavern. In the twinkling glow, he gasped, and his eyes widened.

  The belly of the whale was wide, red, and dripping wet. A dozen or two creatures filled the place, staring at him. Some were small imps with saucer eyes. Others were tall, lanky monsters. Some were creatures of Dream--animals and Elorians. Cade even saw an eelman smile at him from a perch in the wall of the belly.

  "Who are you?" he asked shakily.

  A short, rotund creature with long ears hobbled toward him on webbed feet. It grinned. "We are the whale dwellers!" it said. Cade recognized the voice of the being who freed him.

  "You live here?" Cade asked slowly.

  "Lamentably, we do," replied an imp, flying down to land before him. "You are not the first creature fed to old Leviathan. The great brute has been eating for many years. I've been in his belly since I was just a lad with no horns."

  Cade pulled Tasha from his pocket and untied the mouse. Tasha shook her fur dry and climbed onto Cade's shoulder.

  "Well, Cade, I think our quest is going really well so far," the mouse said.

  "Oh, be quiet, Tash. We're alive at least. Now we just need to find a way to escape this whale."

  The whale dwellers laughed. An Elorian woman, short black feathers on her head, stepped through the puddles toward them. She had an upturned nose, a crooked smile, and a star-shaped birthmark on her cheek. "There is no escape," she said. "You think we haven't tried?"

  The imp shook his head sadly. "Little Star is right. The new ones always think they can escape. I used to think so myself. But where would we escape to, son? We're surrounded by lakes of poison and armies of slimy eel bastards. No offense, Rondel."

  "None taken," said the thin, pale eelman.

  Little Star, the Elorian woman, jabbed her finger at Cade's chest. "We'd rather stay here. The outside is full of monsters and poison and smog. Here, at least, we can live."

  Cade took a deep breath. The creatures all gazed at him, eyes full of sadness, scorn, or amusement. They wore rags, and some had built themselves huts from slats of wet wood and pieces of metal and rope. More flotsam floated in the puddles.

  "That might be true," Cade said quietly. "Yes, we are in Nightmare, and all of Nightmare is horrible. But the war has begun. The war between Dream and Nightmare. And when Nightmare is defeated, I want to be outside this thing."

  They all gaped at him.

  "A war?" Little Star whispered. "You lie!" But awe and fear filled her black eyes.

  "He tells the truth," Tasha spoke quietly. "Yor fights against Phobetor. The war is here."

  A muddy otter padded up to Cade and pawed at his pants. "Is it true?" the animal asked. "I come from the rivers of Faery Forest in Dream. Do my people fight?"

  Cade stared at them all. "All of Dream and Nightmare fight now, as far as I know. And I will escape to join this war." He lifted the ropes that had bound him. He found two slats of wood and began tying them together.

  "What are you doing?" the imp demanded.

  Cade stared at him. "I'm building a raft."

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Lor Ya

  Clutching her wounded arm, Moonmist rushed across the countryside, her strides long but weary, determined but tormented. Blood trickled between her fingers and dirt filled her feathers. Every step made her wince with pain.

  The foxtail rose high around her, up to her shoulders, and the sun beat down. She paused, panting, and pulled her chain mail over her head. She tossed it aside. She unstrapped the greaves and vambraces from her limbs and tossed them aside too. She let her helmet fall. Only her Dreamblade she kept, strapped over her sweat-drenched back. Let whoever may be find this armor. Let him say that here, Moonmist of the Begemmed City lost her strength.

  Clutching her wound, she kept walking, grimacing with pain as tears streamed down her face. She could not bear to think of the dead. She could not bear to think of the horrors, the fangs and claws, Tam's head upon a spike. I cannot let Loor claim these lands. I will not.

  Soon the earth became mud, and the foxtail gave way to shoots of bamboo. The shoots rose higher than her head, and the air became moist and hot. She kept slipping in the mud, pushing herself up, and marching again. Sweat and mud covered her, and her feathers lay caked against her head. With her last drops of strength, she struggled through the marshlands.

  There, on her right, she finally saw the landmark she sought--an old statue, carved from a gray boulder, of a hippopotamus. It stood twenty feet tall, mossy and smoothed by millennia of wind and rain. It was so beaten down, another traveler would have mistaken it for just a boulder of a peculiar shape. But Moonmist knew what this boulder heralded. She was entering the land of Lor Ya, which means River Lands in the ancient tongue of the gods.

  "Hear me, River Horses," she cried, voice hoarse. "Speaking is Princess Moonmist of the Begemmed City. Answer me, guardians of the waters!"

  She heard no answer, only the crickets and wind through the rushes. The
smell of mossy water, mud, and rushes filled her nostrils, thick and hot. She kept moving through the bamboo, desperate now, herons watching her passage. Where were those whom she sought? Had they left this land? Nobody had visited here in years. The Guardians of the Water disliked visitors.

  Soon she was walking along riverbanks leafy with shoots. The waters were still, covered with moss and lotuses.

  "Where are you, River Horses?" she cried.

  She stood still, panting, listening.

  There.

  She heard them.

  The grunt was deep, rumbling like thunder, distant but loud. It sent shivers down her spine. She limped along the banks, moving toward it. The river curved, and she followed it, passing through a copse of willows. There, around a river bend, behind a hill of stone and trees, she saw them.

  The hippopotamuses lay in the water, only their eyes and nostrils showing. Fifty at least lay there, blinking, still. Moonmist breathed out a sob of relief.

  "River Horses!" she said, falling to her knees on the bank. "I, Moonmist, Princess of the Begemmed City, seek your aid."

  For a long moment, the hippos did not move. Finally one raised his head from the water and snorted. It was a huge head, larger than Moonmist could have hugged. He grunted, a rumble that shook the trees. Fear filled Moonmist.

  "Is that so, Princess?" he rumbled. "So you require the help of the Lor Ya?" He snorted.

  Moonmist nodded, her tears flowing down the mud caking her cheeks. "Nightmare is invading. The war has begun. Fight with us."

  All fifty hippos raised their heads from the water, so suddenly that Moonmist started and fell into the mud. They laughed deeply, scornfully. Their king opened his mouth wide, grumbling, showing teeth as long as Moonmist's forearms.

  "So the mighty Begemmed City cannot defend itself," he said. "And now it wants the Guardians of the Water to help. Yet tell me, princess: Where were you when your kings built dams in these rivers? Where were you when your kings brought a thousand horses to drink from our waters?"

  Moonmist shook her head, filled with despair, and her fingers dug into the mud. "That was many generations ago. My people have not visited these lands in years."