Both hands were flat against the statue now. The heat transformed into intense pain in his left hand, a slicing pain along his palm. All his attention turned there as he tried to see what was cutting him, but his palm was pressed firmly against the statue and the light was blinding.
The pain was moving away from his palm and along the back of his hand. He struggled to keep his eyes open against the light. Tears streamed down his cheeks. A circular mound moved just under his skin, the shape and size the same as one of the stones in the statue's chest. Inch by agonizing inch the pain slid along the back of his hand and over his wrist. He wasn't sure if he was screaming anymore, but he thought he was.
He squeezed his eyes tight, though he could still see the shape of the statue burned into his vision. The searing pain had reached his shoulder. His mouth was dry and he felt cold sweat on his face. He couldn't feel his legs. The light was drifting away down tunnels now, taking the pain with it. He felt himself falling to the floor. He kept on falling. Falling down until all he felt was the burning now deep in his chest.
Then he felt nothing.
14
The Dreaming
“Wake up, little brother.”
Ghile jolted up at the sound of his brother's voice.
“Adon?”
Ghile looked around. Where was he? Gravel shifted under him. He was on a tree-lined lake shore. He couldn't tell exactly what time it was. He stood up.
The sun was well into the sky, but it wasn't in the right place. Noon maybe? He heard birdsong. It was much warmer than it should be for spring in the Cradle. This was no part of the Cradle he had ever seen before. He wondered if he had fallen asleep in his bed. Ghile looked around confused.
He looked for Adon. His voice was so clear. Had he dreamt it? Was he still dreaming?
“Yes and no,” Adon replied.
He spun and fell backwards, then began scrambling back across the shifting pebbles.
Adon laughed and shook his head. “Still clumsy, I see.”
Ghile tried to form words, but his mouth just opened and closed like a fish.
“You. Where? How can you?” He finally managed to get out.
Adon sat down on the shore next to his brother. He picked up one of the smooth worn stones and studied it a moment before sending it out, skipping across the lake. Ghile's eyes followed the stone. He could see the forest on the far side. The land rose up from the water to form a stony mountain wall around them like a bowl.
“Adon, you're dead.”
“Yes, but here I am. Isn't it beautiful here?”
“I don't understand,“ Ghile said.
“Let's just say you are different now and part of that difference allows you to come to this place when you sleep. You are dreaming. But this place, you and me, we are not part of the dream. We are very much real.”
Ghile thought about this. He took in the sky and the forest behind him. He reached down and picked up one of the stones. He could feel its damp coolness, the weight of it. He squeezed and held it tight, like an anchor, afraid to let go.
“Why?” Ghile said.
“So you can learn. Ghile, I'm very excited for you. You have been chosen for something so very important. There are secrets our people once knew that have been taken from us. I have been given permission to share them with you again. To teach them to you.”
“Why?”
“Chance. Luck. Fate. Does it really matter? It's you.”
Ghile stared. Adon brushed the hair from his face just like he used to. The long thin nose just like their father's. It was Adon, just as he remembered him.
“I miss you, Adon. We all do.”
Adon reached out and squeezed his arm, “I know, little brother, I know.”
Adon looked out over the lake, then closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, “I like it here. Now you can come visit me whenever you wish.”
Ghile saw motion in the woods, just over Adon's shoulder. He watched as a shadow peeled away from the dark trunk of one of the trees. Something about the shadowy creature looked familiar. The shadow was tall and thin, but appeared smaller due to the way it moved. It was hunched over, wringing its hands together, unsure of itself. It seemed to make up its mind and sprang forward with a burst of speed, launching itself at Adon.
Ghile screamed out a warning too late. The creature had already closed the distance and was coming down towards Adon's back. Right before it struck Adon, it slammed into some unseen force. Adon turned quickly and with a thrusting motion of his arm sent the creature hurtling back into the woods. His hand never made contact with the shadow creature.
The stone tumbled from Ghile's hand, forgotten.
“You are not wanted here, shadow! Be gone!” Adon yelled after the tumbling creature.
Ghile watched as the shadowy form stumbled to its feet and disappeared into the woods, wringing its hands as it went.
“What was that?” Ghile said, watching it flee.
“A pathetic creature that unfortunately also inhabits this island.”
Adon turned to Ghile, his face stern, “Do not trust it, Ghile. It has tried to lure me into traps many times. You must never try to speak to it or follow it. It means me, and now you, ill.”
He nodded. “Alright, I will remember.”
Ghile couldn't shake the feeling there was something familiar about the shadow.
“Adon, how did you do that?”
Adon smiled, crossing his arms over his chest, “That is what I'm going to teach you.”
15
Awakened
Cool wetness pressed against Ghile's forehead and cheeks. He could hear talking coming from somewhere far off. He recognized the voices as they drew nearer. He smelled smoke, earth, and warm wool.
Ghile opened his eyes and saw his mother kneeling on the floor beside him. When their eyes met, she pursed her lips to keep them from trembling, but it did not stop the tears racing down her cheeks.
“He's awake, Ecrec!” she cried.
Ghile's father moved to kneel behind his mother. His face was stern, but Ghile could see relief in his eyes. “You had your mother worried near to death, boy. What were you doing in those ruins?”
Ghile started to answer. His throat felt like he had spent the morning sweeping the house with his tongue.
“Not now, Ecrec,” Elana said. “Here, Ghile. Drink this.” She handed him a mug. The water slid down his throat and settled into his empty stomach. The water woke pangs of hunger which began kicking against Ghile's ribs.
“I'm starving,” Ghile said.
Light shone in his mother's eyes and she laid a hand on her husband's. “Blessings to the All Mother, he is hungry. I'll be right back.”
“Thank you, Mother.” Ghile watched her hurry over to their central hearth. He was home.
Ghile rose to a sitting position, his sleeping mat warm beneath him. He could see daylight through the entryway into the roundhouse and the three windows had their single shutters raised outward, propped with sticks to let in the light and crisp spring air.
“How did I get here, Father?”
Ecrec looked behind him at Elana hurriedly preparing Ghile's meal. When he turned, his jaw muscles were clenched, his eyebrows pulled tightly together. “Riff carried you all the way from those ruins. Ghile, you know they are forbidden. Your duty was to the flock. You had no business in there.”
“Riff? Where is he?” Ghile asked.
“What?” Ecrec looked caught off guard by the question. “He and Master Almoriz are still here.” Ecrec gestured to another part of the roundhouse at the packs and sleeping mats. “They have been at your side since Riff brought you back. But that is not important. I have no idea what you were thinking, boy. But you are not going to-”
“Ghile! Ghile!” Tia screamed from the doorway. His little sister ran across the room, her straw baby swinging in her hand as she came. She barely stopped in time to avoid running him over, instead bounding into his arms.
“I'm so glad you're okay, Gh
ile! Were you eaten by a ghost?” She asked, her eyes wide with hope.
Ghile smiled, shaking his head.
Ecrec lifted Tia and set her in his lap. “Now, now flower, let your brother breathe. He has just now returned to us.” He took in a breath to continue.
Elana returned to kneel down and start to spoon warm broth into Ghile's mouth. Ecrec exhaled defeated. Ghile gave silent thanks.
“I can do that, Mother, thank you.” Ghile took the bowl and spoon. She handed him some bread, then sat back leaning against Ecrec.
Ghile looked at the three of them, leaning on each other, staring at him with concerned expressions. His family. He had the sudden urge to tell them about his dreams and Adon, but didn't.
One of the last things Adon had warned him against was talking with anyone about the dreams or his training. He had said people would not understand. People always feared what they did not understand and at best they would think him crazy.
“Well, look who is back amongst the living.” Master Almoriz had just entered the roundhouse followed closely by Riff.
Ghile smiled and started to set his food down to make a proper greeting.
“Now, now, young Ghile,” Almoriz chided. “You need to regain your strength. You have been asleep for two days.”
“Two days?” Ghile said in a whisper.
He had been training with Adon on the island for what seemed a week. Ghile had ample time to explore his new dream place. It was a forested island dotted with little clearings. The island was small enough to walk completely around in half a day. In its center Adon had shown Ghile a huge oak tree as thick as a roundhouse and reaching incredibly high into the sky. Ghile could sit on one of its roots with his feet dangling far above the ground. This is where they had trained and rested. There was no need for shelter, the weather was warm and it had never rained. Ghile had felt safe there. He had never dreamt, never been hungry, but always woke up refreshed and eager to learn.
The island sat in the middle of a large mountain lake, the forested crags rising up on all sides beyond the lake's waters. Four separate waterfalls poured into the lake from four opposite sides. It was beautiful.
Adon said it was his home now and Ghile could come visit him whenever he slept. How could Ghile explain this to anyone? Adon was right, they would never believe him.
“Riff, thank you for coming to my aid,” Ghile said.
Riff smiled. “I stumbled upon you laying in the middle of one of the ruin's rooms, unconscious. I could not wake you. You gave me quite a scare.”
Ghile was confused. “In the middle of a room? What about the statue?”
Riff glanced at Almoriz before answering. “Statue? There was no statue, Ghile. Those ruins are naught but empty rooms and passages.”
“No, there was a door in the ground with a huge metal handle. I opened it and found stairs leading down. A statue.” They were all staring at him, Riff shaking his head.
“Riff was in those ruins gathering sources for me,” Master Almoriz said. “Even though it is a place best left alone-”
“It is forbidden, Master Almoriz,” Ecrec said.
“We have need that outweighs the dwarves' restrictions, and have found sources there in the past. But, it is a dark place with many uneven stones and crevasses. You had no business there and are lucky Riff found you.”
Ghile didn't understand what was happening. Why did Riff not admit to finding him in the room with the glowing, humming statue? He resisted the urge to touch his chest. Everyone was looking at him with mixed expressions of confusion and sympathy. Everyone except Master Almoriz and his father. Their stares were intense, almost angry. Ghile felt himself getting upset, too.
Something told him their shared look was caused from very different concerns. But, he also knew now was not the time to try and find out, so he changed the subject.
“The flock?” Ghile asked.
“Luckily, Ast and Cuz tended them well,” Ecrec said. “Though, the real question is why you were in those ruins.”
“Father. I am sorry. I saw Riff.” He started to tell his father about Gar and Bralf, like so many times before, but feared the pitying look his father would give him. Before he could continue, Ecrec handed Tia to her mother and rose.
“Master Almoriz, as you can see he is fine. It is time for you and your apprentice to be on your way.”
“Ecrec, please,” Elana began.
“No, Elana. Ghile would never have gone near those ruins. He knows his place. I do not want him filling his head with nonsense.” Ecrec jabbed a finger towards Riff.
“Me?” Riff said. “How is this my fault? I brought him to you.”
Everyone began speaking at once. Not to be outdone, Tia began crying.
Ghile had to get out. He made a pained face. “I need to go outside.”
The others stopped and moved to let him up. He raced out into the welcomed open air. He could hear the others start again so he hurried away.
His relations greeted him with cheers and waves or questions of, “are you well?” He assured them all and made his way to the privies near the far palisade wall. As he went inside one of them, he quickly undid his tunic and lifted it above his head. It stank of old sweat.
He ran his fingers along his skin until they reached the center of his chest. There he felt the hard surface of a round stone just under his skin. He tried to move it in vain, it was joined firmly to the bone. The skin around it was smooth and pink, not irritated in the least at this newest addition. His left palm was likewise unmarked.
Then it was not all a dream.
He turned and looked at the door. He closed it slowly and dropped the latch into place, without ever touching it.
16
Across the Mountains
The pack made good time through the mountain pass. The wind howled, whipping snow into a flurry, partially blinding Muk. The goblin buried his face into Bloody Maw's back for protection, but immediately regretted it. Bloody Maw stank of wet fur and greasy worg's musk.
His knees ached. The worg's back was too wide. He wondered if other goblins suffered like this when they rode the wolves his kind normally used as mounts. Bloody Maw was twice their size.
His mount was apparently oblivious to the snowstorm. Its powerful gait had not slowed for hours, jumping from one rocky outcropping to the next, only moving over snow when absolutely necessary. Muk had at first cursed at Bloody Maw for jumping from rock to rock and not taking a more direct path through the pass, but the mental images he saw in the worg's mind of them being swallowed by one of the many snow filled crevasses curbed his tongue.
Muk tightened his grip and peered into the whiteness behind him. He could barely make out anything. Tilting his head, he could just hear the occasional sound of a heavy paw pounding against stone or compacting snow. The pack was doing its best to keep up, but Bloody Maw set a grueling pace.
As pack alpha, Bloody Maw was the largest and fiercest. He was also the hardest one to control, which was why Muk rode him. It was still easier to dominate their minds and control them when they were close. Though, he noted with more than a little bit of pride, it was becoming easier to control them from a distance.
In the beginning, they would drop from his control if they strayed too far, forcing him to reassert his will when they returned to the pack confused and angry. But he had all but full control of them now, all except Bloody Maw. He could feel Bloody Maw's thoughts scratching at the periphery of his mind, digging, probing, and looking for a weakness or flaw, anything to reassert control.
Muk could not allow it. He had no doubt of his fate if he let that happen. What Bloody Maw and his pack had done to Bulak was still deeply ingrained in his memory. Muk grinned, his tongue absently sliding over small pointed teeth, as he recalled becoming leader of the Dark Skulkers.
Muk had walked proudly into Bulak's lair. It was one of the few buildings in that portion of the deserted human city with any semblance of a roof. There were many entrances into the lair th
rough the various cracks in the walls. Muk chose to walk through the central door, the one entrance reserved for the leader of the tribe. No other goblin was allowed to use that entrance, save Bulak.
The Goblin Leader sat upon his gathered treasures, his furred bodyguards around him. The wolves rose, sensing their master's displeasure, hackles rising, waiting for the command to rip Muk to pieces. The numerous goblins gathered in Bulak's lair went silent, eyes darting between the two. Muk knew they were waiting to see how their leader would respond to this insult. Some of the older warriors grinned wickedly. He knew they thought him good as dead. He was a mere gatherer in the tribe, not a warrior. He had no followers and owned no wolves to support any claim to lead.
Bulak did not rise. He simply pointed at Muk and laughed, the laughter of the others joining in. Muk growled and tightened his fists. They did not know he had changed. Muk was powerful now. They would find out soon enough.
Bulak leaned down and whispered to the eager wolves, never taking his eyes off Muk. Bulak's grin told Muk the old leader thought this young upstart was about to die. The wolves snarled and leaped forward, each one trying to be first to reach their prey.
Muk ignored them and looked about the lair. He watched other goblins as their eyes followed the charging wolves. Some stared at Muk in disbelief, wondering why he did not run. He ignored them all.
He concentrated and could sense the wolves' minds. It felt like he could reach out and touch their thoughts. He could sense the thrill of the kill within them. They were close enough. He reached out with his mind and grabbed theirs. He shredded them. He pulled the scattered mental threads into him. Fed on them. The effect on the wolves was instantaneous. Some fell to the floor rolling in pain. Others jumped upwards, twisting as they tried to escape this unseen foe. Within moments they all lay crumpled before Muk, one still twitching. Without the mind, the body died.
The Cradle of the Gods (The Soulstone Prophecy Book 1) Page 6
