Dreams

by James Erich

  “There are supposed to be a few horses waiting for us there,” Geilin told his companions as they crouched low behind some bushes on a hilltop overlooking the village. “But I’m reluctant to trust the innkeeper, now that we know Seffni’s plan has been uncovered.”

  Koreh was studying the inn with a thoughtful expression on his face. “We could sneak into the stable after dark and steal the horses.”

  “As soon as they found the horses missing, they’d know we’d been here,” Geilin replied. “At the moment, there’s a possibility the emperor doesn’t yet know our location. There’s little sense in announcing our presence.”

  At last it was decided Koreh would venture into the inn alone and see what he could discover. He circled around and entered town from the east via the main road, carrying his pack on his back and a walking stick and making no attempt to hide himself. People watched him as he passed, their curiosity plain, but nobody stopped him or attempted to speak to him. Merchants traveled along the road fairly regularly, and although lone wayfarers were less common, they were also not particularly rare. Anyone going between the eastern half of the kingdom and gü-Khemed had to pass this way.

  Koreh walked by the stable on his way into the inn. There were eight horses—too many for a stable this size, really. The stallion had a stall to himself, but the mares were crammed two to a stall. One was an old nag not much suited for travel, but the other seven were sturdy, well-bred brown and black horses, just a bit too fine for an establishment like this and just the right number for three travelers and four guardsmen.

  The inn itself was as Koreh had expected, small and dingy, smelling of stale ale, tobacco, and wood smoke. The place was empty, save for an old man sleeping on one of the benches near the hearth. Koreh would have wagered he was more or less a permanent occupant of that bench, tolerated by the owner as long as he didn’t bother the paying customers.

  Koreh had to stand at the bar for a long while before the innkeeper came out of the kitchen and noticed him. The man looked at him suspiciously and asked, “You lookin’ for a room?”

  “No,” Koreh replied, pulling a coin out of a small purse Geilin had loaned him. “Just a drink.”

  The innkeeper grunted in acknowledgement and then filled an earthenware mug from a keg of stosam behind the bar. He set the fragrant herbal ale down in front of the boy and took the coin.

  “I lost my horse to a pack of wild dogs yesterday,” Koreh said conversationally. “A few leagues back, in the Dead Forest.”

  The man’s eyebrows went up. “You wouldn’t catch me in those woods. You’re lucky you got out with all your arms and legs!”

  “You don’t know anyone in town who’s got a horse to sell, do you?”

  The man eyed him shrewdly. “You don’t look like you got much money. No offense.”

  Koreh gave him a charming smile. “I might have.”

  “Well, then,” the innkeeper said, “I might ’ave one I could part with.”

  “Not that old nag in the stable!”

  The man barked out a laugh. “Naw, that old thing belongs to my wife. The silly woman won’t part with ’er. But if you saw that one, you must’ve seen the others.”

  “I did,” Koreh replied. “I thought they might belong to your customers.”

  “Naw, they’re mine. And fine animals they are, too, if you got the coin for ’em.”

  It wasn’t long afterward that Koreh was riding the black stallion out of town. He rode down the road for about half a furlong, until he was out of sight of the inn, before turning back into the hills to meet up with Geilin and Sael.

  “That man is no friend of yours,” he told them. “He’s not expecting anyone to claim the horses. Which means he knew you’d be ambushed, and he thinks you’re dead now.”

  “Indeed,” Geilin said, a grim look on his face as he took the coin purse Koreh handed him. Then he shook the purse in surprise. “You purchased a horse and you still have a few coins left over?”

  “I know how to bargain a man down,” Koreh replied coolly. “Still, it would have been cheaper if you’d let me steal it.”

  Chapter 6

  THEY continued southeast through the hills, giving the town a wide berth, before returning to the road. It would have been more convenient had Koreh managed to talk the innkeeper into parting with more than one horse, but the stubborn old ass had refused to accept a reasonable price for one of the mares. So Geilin rode the animal while the two young men walked alongside.

  It occurred to Sael, as the afternoon wore on, that Koreh was still with them, despite the fact he’d only promised to escort them to Denök. Nothing had been said about it, and now Sael was afraid to bring it up in case Koreh decided to abandon them. He was crude and unsophisticated, as well as a bit of an ass, but it still made Sael feel safer having Koreh along.

  Once they were safely away from the town, Koreh again took on the task of “entertaining” his companions. This time, rather than singing, he regaled them with tales of the monstrous creatures lurking in the Dead Forest—the forest they would have to pass through in order to reach Mat’zovya. That he couldn’t actually claim to have seen any of these monsters didn’t seem to bother him.

  Sael listened in silence for a while, content to feel smug that he didn’t believe in such superstitious nonsense. But when Koreh started talking about demen—creatures comprised of the bones and skin of dead animals—he couldn’t stand it anymore.

  “Demen!” he spat out contemptuously. “You can’t be serious. Those are stories parents tell their children so they won’t misbehave. Nobody older than ten believes in them.”

  Koreh looked wounded, as though he’d just been brought to task for saying that fire is warm. “I know people who’ve seen them.”

  “You know people who told you they’d seen them. Have you ever seen a demen yourself?”

  “No.”

  “That’s because they don’t exist. Tell him, Master Geilin!”

  Geilin chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t drag me into this. I’m not one to say something doesn’t exist just because I haven’t seen it.”

  This didn’t suit Sael at all, nor did the smug look of vindication on Koreh’s face. Sael spent the next few leagues brooding, while Koreh continued with his annoying tales of how they might all meet their grisly ends.

  As they approached the forest, however, Sael forgot his irritation. The sight of it filled him with a sense of foreboding. The Dead Forest wasn’t so much dead as… tortured; deformed. Its ancient trees had grown gnarled and twisted over the centuries until they seemed to be silently crying out in pain. In late summer, the leaves on the trees had already turned brown, and many of the trees were already bare. A pervasive smell of moldering earth lingered in the air.

  “What’s wrong with this place?” he couldn’t help asking.

  “The forest here was destroyed by the war between the gods a thousand years ago,” Geilin explained. “It’s grown back since then, but there is a lake here—little more than a pond or a bog, really—that was corrupted by dark magic. The corruption has spread to the surrounding forest, warping the trees and animals that once lived there.”

  Sael didn’t want to see what the animals looked like.

  “I must have come through here when I was young,” he said uncertainly, “on the way to the capital.”

  But Geilin shook his head. “No. We were with a retinue of soldiers then, and not in a particular hurry. So we went around to the south.”

  “Then why don’t we do that now?”

  “I confess,” Geilin replied, “that I would probably get us lost.”

  “I could find the way,” Koreh interjected.

  Geilin seemed to consider this for a moment, but rejected it. “Perhaps you could. But it would add a couple days to our journey. We were not on the run when we last passed this way, but we are now. We must get to Harleh before the emperor catches up with us.”

  Even in the afternoon light, the forest made Sael’s skin cr
awl. The stallion seemed reluctant to enter the forest until Koreh stroked its neck and whispered into its ear. “That’s a good boy, Sek. I won’t let anything harm you.”

  The stallion seemed instantly soothed and began to move forward again, Koreh walking close beside it.

  “Sek?” the wizard asked. The name meant “shadow.”

  Koreh shrugged. “That’s what I named him.”

  Sael thought it a bit presumptuous of Koreh to name a horse that belonged to the Dekan of Harleh. But he bit his tongue and said nothing. He was more concerned that the forest was making him feel uneasy as well.

  As the low branches closed over them, cutting out much of the daylight, he found himself thinking involuntarily of Koreh’s demen. In this setting, it was easy enough to believe they might be real.

  GEILIN was still weak and he was unable to travel far, even on horseback. Koreh could sense there was an ancient stone ring deep in the forest, the ability to find those havens being one of the earliest things his dreams had taught him. He’d hoped they would reach it before nightfall, but the mage and his apprentice forced him to stop twice so they could perform their irritating dances for Atnu, Geilin moving with slow, feeble motions that were painful even to watch. Eventually Koreh was forced to conclude they would never reach the circle before it was too dark to travel safely.

  “We’ll stop here for the night,” Koreh stated as twilight came upon them. They had arrived at a moderately open, grassy spot by the side of the road. True, the grass was dead and brown, but at least the spot was a bit removed from the trees.

  “Do you really think it’s safe here?” Sael asked, skeptically.

  “It will do.”

  Geilin sighed and slid down from the horse, with Koreh’s assistance. “I’m afraid he’s right, Sael. I can’t go any farther for today.”

  Sael quickly moved to the old man’s side. “Are you feeling all right, Master Geilin?”

  “Quite all right,” Geilin replied with a dismissive wave. “But very tired. It will be dark soon. Why don’t the two of you build a fire? I’m more fearful of whatever creatures live in these woods than I am of being spotted by anyone trailing us at the moment. And perhaps you should put up some wards.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Terrific, Koreh thought.

  Even though they weren’t in a place where the Taaweh would be offended, he still felt uncomfortable being around the magic of the Stronni. He decided to leave Sael to it.

  “Go ahead,” he told the apprentice. “I’ll gather some firewood before the light goes.”

  Sael seemed fine with this, so Koreh wandered off into the woods, collecting deadfall wood in his arms as he went. It wasn’t hard to find—dead branches and brush littered the ground in this place. He knew it would take at least a few armloads, so he worked quickly, returning to drop off one load at the edge of the clearing just as Sael began marking the outline of a large circle around the space.

  Koreh disappeared back into the forest again, making a slightly wider arc this time.

  In the darkening twilight, the forest seemed to close in on him until the sounds of Sael’s chanting grew muffled and far away. He could feel what Geilin had talked about—that there was something wrong with this place. But Sael’s spellworking disturbed him even more. He’d as soon wait until it was over before returning to camp.

  Koreh smelled the creature before he saw it. A rotten smell, as though he’d stumbled upon the carcass of a dead animal. He screwed his face up in distaste, nearly gagging on the stench as he searched the underbrush for it. When he turned around, he saw something huge and monstrous lumbering toward him out of the shadows.

  It creaked and rustled as it moved, like old bare branches swaying in the wind. Its hide was a patchwork of matted, rotting fur—wolf, bear, elk, a dozen others Koreh couldn’t identify—held together with dirt, dried leaves, and pine needles. And as it drew nearer, Koreh could see bones jutting through in places. Its head was the skull of a bear, with great hollow eye sockets and monstrous fangs, yet it was crowned with the antlers of a great stag. From somewhere deep within its hollow chest came a rasping, menacing growl.

  Koreh backed away, aware that the thick brambles behind him would make it impossible to run in that direction. He wondered, for just a second, how the dried, dead thing would fare against one of Geilin’s firebolts. But the old man was too far away, even if he were up to fighting the creature. Koreh would have to save himself.

  But there seemed to be some kind of… force emanating from it—an almost palpable aura of dread. Koreh felt certain it wasn’t just his own fear holding him rooted to the spot. He’d never felt terror this intense in his entire lifetime; it paralyzed him. He wanted to drop into the earth and escape, but he couldn’t make his mind obey.

  He knew he was about to die.

  Would the thing eat him? Did it even have a stomach? Perhaps it would somehow incorporate him into its body. Koreh had heard tales of demen with animal bodies but the heads or faces of men. If he hadn’t wanted to scream before that thought passed through his mind, he certainly did now. But no sound would come from his mouth.

  Suddenly two things happened at once. The beast charged, letting out a horrible bellow, and the leaves on the forest floor in front of Koreh swirled upward, as if caught in a whirlwind. Within the leaves was a dark shape, like the figure of a man, but impossible to see clearly. It seemed to be wrapped in a cloak made entirely of shadows. Koreh couldn’t tell if he was looking at something solid or not. It seemed almost transparent in places, and the leaves appeared to pass through it as they fluttered through the air. The figure slid silently up out of the ground, whirling around to strike at the monster with a shimmering staff.

  Frozen, Koreh watched the butt of the staff thud against the beast’s skull. The staff, at least, was solid, and there was a resounding crack that sounded far too loud to be mere wood against bone. The creature’s skull blazed with a shimmering blue fire. It roared in pain, swinging its great antlered head in a deadly arc. But there was nothing for the antlers to strike. The sharp, jagged points swept through the shadowy cloak without ever tearing or snagging it.

  In the next instant, two other figures rose up out of the forest floor in swirls of dead leaves and twigs and dark cloaks. They surrounded the beast, striking it quickly as it bellowed in rage. Wherever the staves struck its mottled, patchwork hide, blue light flickered briefly. The light lapped upward like flame but left no scorch marks. The creature was clearly suffering great pain, and as it writhed and thrashed about, Koreh felt a momentary flash of pity for the thing.

  Then its legs gave out beneath it and, with a great rasping exhalation, it tumbled over and lay still. Just as quickly as they had appeared, the shadowy figures spiraled down into the leaves and dirt and vanished. They might never have been there, save for the corpse they’d left behind. And that looked as if it had been dead for weeks, if not months.

  Koreh was shaking. Somehow he’d managed to hold onto the wood he’d gathered, though he hadn’t been conscious of clutching it. It was rapidly growing dark now, and he wanted nothing more than to run back to camp. But some perverse sense of curiosity made him approach the dead thing.

  It lay absolutely still. Cautiously, Koreh kicked the massive bear skull with one foot. The head came loose from the neck with the sound of rotted parchment tearing and rolled away from him, coming to rest with one of its antlers propping it up. Empty eye sockets stared back at him. But apart from that, the creature did not move.

  SAEL had a blazing fire going by the time Koreh returned to camp, but he was nevertheless relieved to see the young man emerge from the forest, arms loaded with dead wood. There was no getting around the fact that Koreh knew how to survive in this wilderness far better than Sael and Geilin did.

  As Koreh approached, he suddenly stopped, a confused look upon his face.

  “It’s all right,” Sael told him, keeping his voice low. “You’re feeling the ward I’ve put up. Just push your
way through. It won’t hurt you.”

  Koreh looked skeptical, as well he should have been. Had Sael not constructed the ward properly, it would incinerate him when he tried to cross it. But that was better left unsaid. Koreh walked deliberately forward and only the slight fluttering of his eyelids betrayed that he felt anything as he crossed the barrier.

  Geilin was wrapped in his cloak near the fire, the Eye of Atnu on his forehead barely visible as a slightly shimmering smudge while he slept, and Sael was boiling some roots they’d brought with them. Geilin had cautioned them not to eat anything they might find in this place or drink the water, so the liquid had been taken from their water pouches.

  Koreh dropped his armload of deadfall wood to one side, with the rest.

  He still carried something in his left hand—not a large root or stump, as Sael had thought at first glance. It was a skull. But not of any creature he’d ever seen before. The young man was carrying it by one of its antlers, but its nose was too short to be an elk and the head too broad, and certainly no elk had fangs like that!

  “What is that?” he asked, his eyes wide.

  Koreh swung his arm and tossed it in Sael’s direction. It landed in the dirt, a couple of feet from the boy. It stared up at him with empty eye sockets, its dislocated lower jaw hanging off to the side in a twisted parody of a roar.

  “Just the skull of a dead rabbit I came across,” Koreh replied. “They grow big around here.”

  Chapter 7

  THE queen’s aging, one-eyed handmaiden offered the Iinu Shavi a golden chalice. It might have contained poison, for all the Lady knew, but she accepted out of courtesy. No poison could harm her.