The Cradle of the Gods (The Soulstone Prophecy Book 1)

by Thomas Quinn Miller

  He felt the shield catch air as he fell forward more than down, drifting quickly.

  He could see he was going to make it, but he was coming in much faster and higher than he had anticipated. The wide grey stones shot past beneath him. Ghile wished he could concentrate on more than one shield at a time. He had to decide quickly or he would sail past his target.

  He released the shield from his mind and the one above him vanished at the same instant. The sudden feeling of falling caught his breath. He focused on the thicker force shield and pushed it out from his legs.

  Just in time, he felt it stretch out from him as the resistance of the boulder's angled surface pushed against it. He was getting better at keeping his balance while doing this and he release the shield. His feet landed soundlessly against the stone.

  Ghile scrambled across one boulder to the next. He had an idea. Once he reached the last one he again concentrated on the force shield and pushed it down and out of his feet. He stepped off the boulder and took a few lumbering steps forward, swinging his arms for balance.

  His mind ached with pressure. He felt like something had reached into his head and was crushing his brain. He barely had the strength of will to maintain the two small force shields under his feet. He didn't understand why two should be harder than one. Combined they were far smaller in size than the flat shield he used to float down like a leaf or the thick one he used to slow his falls. The image of the two separate force shields pulled and slipped in his mind like a freshly caught fish. When it was too much, he release it and fell the last few inches to the forest floor.

  He turned back to look at his handiwork. If anyone had seen him, he would have looked as if he had flown from the fallen tree to those boulders, like those squirrels his uncle sometimes killed on his patrols. They had a thin membrane between their legs and it was this that had given Ghile the idea in the first place.

  He wondered if he could extend the force from his sides like them instead of out of his hands and feet. He did not see why not, though now was not the time to try. Creating two shields at once had mentally exhausted him. He had covered a good deal of ground and felt that would do to lose anyone who tried tracking him from the festival field.

  He headed deeper into the wood. He couldn't help but laugh as he ran. The confidence he felt wanted to boil out of him. Ghile had feared this test for so long and now, with his new found abilities, he felt for the first time he was going to survive. As he ran deeper into the forest, he thought of how proud his father was going to be.

  25

  Discoveries

  Riff watched Ghile and the other initiates dash into the Redwood like fleeing rabbits. Those men who were not blood relations of the initiates and still young enough to think chasing them through the forest seemed good sport yelled and banged their shields to drive the initiates on. They kept one eye on the forest and another on Mother Brambles, waiting for her to unleash them.

  All muscle and no brain.

  They knew as well as he did she would allow the initiates a good head start. But they slathered and whined, wanting to give chase, all the same. The similarities between him and the hunters chafed his pride.

  Riff turned and made his way through the throng. He needed to find Master Almoriz. He, too, had done as he was told and kept an eye on Ghile. Riff liked Ghile well enough. He felt beholden to look out for him after Adon had been culled even without Master Almoriz's direction. He and Adon had always gotten along well on his visits and Adon had been the closest thing Riff had to a true friend.

  He didn't think Master Almoriz had meant for him to follow Ghile into the wood. He wasn't about to strip down to his waist and be painted up like the rest of those louts. He had already taken the test and that was one time too many. He was not volunteering to spend a night crawling through the wood chasing boys out of hiding holes and trees. That was not his idea of an evening well spent.

  He still wished the old sorcerer would explain to him what was going on. He had told Master Almoriz how he had found Ghile on the floor of that hidden shrine. The inhabitants of the Cradle feared the ancient ruins and if that wasn't enough to keep them away, dwarven law prohibited humans from trespassing in them.

  There were not enough dwarves in the Cradle to do more than guard the Bastion and count the tithes the cradlers poured into it. Riff had no respect for the little walking blocks of stone. Dwarves were a necessary evil as far as he was concerned.

  Master Almoriz always sent him into the ruins when they were staying in Last Hamlet. He always found good stones and the occasional cache of metal bits there, but little else. He usually just found a nice place to catch a nap.

  He had long since come to the conclusion that there was nothing of interest in those ruins. He thought he had scoured them thoroughly enough on previous visits. He could not believe Adon's lanky little brother had found a hidden shrine to some forgotten stonechosen.

  He had heard the screaming somewhere deeper in the ruins. He recalled feeling a twinge of jealousy when he came upon the trap door hanging open in the middle of the room.

  The room was a crossroads of sorts and he had passed through it many times. How could he have missed the trap door? He made a mental note to pry off the metal handle after he got to the bottom of those screams.

  Now that he was at the room, the screams had stopped. The light from the everflame he held danced off the walls and the open trap door. He had little doubt where the screams had come from. He had recognized Ghile's voice in those screams and called his name from the top of the stairway.

  There was no answer. He held the everflame before him and made his way down. He kept the words to the flame strike spell on his lips. Master Almoriz had told him he was not allowed to use the spell unless it was a life or death situation. This qualified. He was definitely going to set fire to anything that appeared and sort out the particulars later.

  He saw Ghile's crumpled body sprawled out on the floor in front of a statue of a stonechosen. Riff put his back against a wall as soon as he reached the foot of the stairs and used the everflame to illuminate the room.

  He recognized it as a shrine and didn't see any other occupants except Ghile. He knelt down and felt Ghile's face. He was breathing, but he burned with a fever. He checked Ghile for any obvious injuries. What happened to him? There was nothing obvious and Ghile's breathing seemed normal enough. He gave Ghile a shake and called his name. Ghile wouldn't wake up.

  Riff examined the stonechosen. He recognized the swirling stone pattern from Master Almoriz's lessons. He had seen similar relics in other ruins, but never this large and well preserved.

  He felt along the statue and its base for any loose stones that might reveal a hidden compartment. The stone too was hot to the touch. He glanced down at Ghile. Had he set off some ancient trap? He knew the dwarves sometimes trapped ruins to punish those who disobeyed their laws. No dwarf worth their beard would have left this statue intact, though. If it was a trap, it was not dwarf made.

  He had to get Ghile out of here and seal this room. He made a thorough search for anything of value. Then, having carried Ghile back out of the ruins he returned and removed the valuable metal handle. That done, he found some heavy stones to cover the trap door. That would have to do. Now to get Ghile back up to Last Hamlet.

  He stumbled into Last Hamlet at dusk with Ghile across his shoulder. He didn't know why, but he felt guilty when Elana burst into tears at the sight of her unconscious child. Ecrec took his son and barraged Riff with questions. He would have liked to have had time to speak alone with Master Almoriz who was standing there in the crowd that soon formed. He didn't have time.

  “I was down in the lower fields and heard screams coming from the old ruins,” Riff said.

  “What was he doing in those ruins?” Ecrec grumbled, carrying Ghile towards his home.

  “If the dwarves would have found him. Oh, Ecrec, I can't lose another.” Elana followed closely through the crowd, carrying wide eyed Tia who still didn't
seem to know how to act.

  “Not sure, but I found him just inside like this. He wouldn't wake up,” Riff said.

  Riff followed until they reached their roundhouse. Master Almoriz followed the family inside.

  “Wait here, apprentice,” Almoriz said, closing both halves of the door behind him.

  Riff lingered outside the roundhouse with the crowd, explaining again and again as other members of Last Hamlet were drawn by the crowd.

  Master Almoriz had emerged later and informed everyone Ghile was going to be all right and needed his rest. He then took Riff aside.

  “Tell me what happened, Apprentice. Do not omit any detail, no matter how insignificant you think it to be,” his master said.

  Riff retold the events of what happened and Master Almoriz listened intently. When he was finished, the old sorcerer was lost in thought for some time before responding.

  “Your story is to remain the same as you told it to his parents. When Ghile awakes-”

  Riff attempted to ask how he knew Ghile would awake, but Master Almoriz furrowed his thick white brows and spoke over him.

  “When Ghile awakes, you will tell him the same story. Under no circumstances are you to tell him where you found him or listen to any explanation he tries to give you,” Master Almoriz continued. “You will then keep an eye on him and tell me if you observe anything odd.”

  “Master Almoriz, I don't understand. What happened to him?” Riff asked.

  “Boy, it is not something for you to understand. Now is not the time for your incessant questions. You will do as I tell you, Apprentice.” Master Almoriz stared until he seemed confident Riff understood.

  “Tomorrow you will take me to this shrine.” Then Almoriz disappeared into Ecrec's home.

  Riff lowered his head and turned his palms upward. “Yes, Master Almoriz.”

  See, I can be taught.

  Riff tried to unclench his jaw and breath. Why was Master Almoriz not telling him what was going on? He was his apprentice and a damn good sorcerer.

  Why was he being lied to? If Ghile had found an abandoned room when he was somewhere he shouldn't have been, and was cursed as a result, then why not just tell everyone and use it as a justifiable reason for the others to avoid the place? What was he not being told? What had Ghile stumbled upon? More importantly, if the ruins were actually dangerous, why had Master Almoriz allowed him to go there so many times on his own? Now that Riff considered it, Almoriz had even encouraged his exploration. Was he supposed to find the shrine? Had his teacher wanted him to fall victim to this trap? To what end?

  Riff, as usual, had more questions than answers. For now, he would do as he was told.

  And so he had. Over the following months as the Cradle entered the full of summer, he had kept to his story and more importantly kept Ghile and his questions at bay.

  To what end he was not sure. With each report to Master Almoriz he had gotten a thoughtful nod and, 'keep up the good work'; even when he had reported that Ghile was beginning to act suspicious and trying to find time to be alone.

  Riff continued through the crowd until he finally spotted Master Almoriz near Mother Brambles. He was easy enough to see as the old druid and her hill of a cave bear still stood in the initiate's circle. Riff knew the stories of the giant protector of the oldest of druids and knew he was tame and under Mother Brambles' control. Well enough, but he still approached where Mother Brambles and Master Almoriz were between him and the beast. No use taking chances. It was then that he noticed two others.

  A young attractive druid, her tonsure and tattoos looked fresh, her luscious flame colored hair long and braided. She was a beauty, to be sure. She had the soft complexion of the women of the Cradle, but her shieldwarden, who was sizing him up even now, was a Nordlah Barbarian. By Daomur's beard he was almost as big as Mother Brambles' bear! Riff wondered how the barbarian had made it this far into the cradle with his head still attached to his shoulders. He guessed the druids commanded more respect than he gave them credit for. Oh well, not his problem if the lovely young druid had poor taste in shieldwardens. He wondered what her taste in men was like.

  Riff moved up to stand beside, yet slightly behind, Master Almoriz. “Master.” He inclined his head and spoke the greeting softly, as to not interrupt, yet still announce his presence.

  Master Almoriz and Mother Brambles were too deep in conversation to more than glance his way. The bear, barbarian, and flame-haired druid stared at him. He ignored the others but took the time to flash a rakish smile at the druid until she looked away annoyed.

  Too bad, he thought.

  “Are you sure of this?” Mother Brambles was asking. Her words and demeanor had a no nonsense feel about them. This was a woman who was used to having things her way.

  “If I were completely sure, he would not be here now. But, I am almost certain. I have not found enough information to know what the effects might be,” Almoriz said.

  Mother Brambles turned Riff's direction and looked him over. “Things did not go according to your plans, Almoriz. But, if you are right, at least you were right about its whereabouts. I'll trust your judgment in this.”

  “Mother, with what I told you about the magister being worried about the culler and now this additional information, shouldn't we go and find the boy?” The young druid said.

  Magister? Culler? Riff didn't know who this girl was, but she barely looked old enough to be handfasted and she definitely knew more of what was going on than he did. She didn't seem as pretty as he had first thought. She was far too tall for his liking.

  Riff wanted nothing more than to ask what was going on, but he was not going to show how little he knew in front of this girl.

  “No, we must know for sure and there is but one way I know to do that. You must be ready to protect him, Almoriz.” Mother Brambles said, reaching back to pet the knee of her bear. “I can be nowhere near when it happens. I have sang on this and it is the way of it.”

  Master Almoriz stroked his beard as he looked about. “And what of the Sorcerer's Code? The display of magic it will take will reveal much.”

  “Events must flow their course. Your secrets will mean little if we are correct,” Mother Brambles said. She poked him in the chest with her gnarled staff to drive her point home.

  “Balance above all things.” She enunciated each word with a poke.

  Master Almoriz finally nodded. “It will be as you say, Mother Brambles.” He displayed his palms and bowed his head. He motioned for Riff to follow.

  Mother Brambles raised a brow at Riff. Riff hadn't realized his mouth was agape.

  She shook her stick at him.

  “Run along, young Master Riff. You will have answers to your questions soon enough.”

  Riff hastily closed his mouth and paid respects to Mother Brambles.

  “Come, Riff. We have planning to do,” Master Almoriz called over his shoulder.

  Riff began to give chase then caught himself. He adjusted his robes and casually followed his master into the crowd as if it was his idea.

  26

  Unlikely Allies

  “I do not trust that one, Mother,” Gaidel said as she watched the sorcerer's apprentice saunter off into the crowd.

  “If you choose not to trust every man who gives you an appraising look, Daughter Gaidel, you are going to end up distrusting half the Cradle,” Mother Brambles said.

  Two Elks chuckled behind her and earned a nudge in the ribs. If the barbarian noticed, he didn't show it. How could Mother Brambles think that was the reason for her distrust of him? She had barely noticed the looks the apprentice was giving her. Like most men, he thought her eyes were in her chest.

  “As a druid, I do not let-” Gaidel began.

  “Don't set your feathers a 'ruffle,” Mother Brambles said.

  “It is good you do not trust Almoriz's apprentice. But, he is a part of this, make no mistake.” Mother Brambles turned and set her weight against the walking stick she was so well known for
and began moving towards the wood.

  “Walk with me,” she said.

  Gaidel fell in beside her. As always, Two Elks hovered over her too close. She was not an unprotected child.

  “Must you follow so close? If I feel the need to sing the song, I'm sure you will sense it and you can stand on top of me then.”

  As usual, Two Elks just stared at her for a few moments. She still hadn't decided if he did this to translate her words or for effect, though she was beginning to strongly suspect the latter.

  She didn't have time for a staring contest and with clenched fists turned back to follow Mother Brambles.

  “You shouldn't be so hard on your new shieldwarden, Daughter Gaidel,” Mother Brambles said.

  “The binding is difficult on them and for a while the emotion to guard and protect can be a strong one. Some have even confused it for other emotions,” Mother Bramble said, casting her a sidelong glance. The elderly woman had a mischievous grin that would have made a Drop's Trapper blush.

  Gaidel felt her face reddening and turned on Two Elks. “Don't even think it. Do you understand me?”

  Two Elks continued to stare, his face impassive.

  “Too skinny,” he finally said.

  Mother Brambles found the reply quite entertaining and chuckled as she walked. Gaidel felt it best to not reply since she was obviously outnumbered. She would set the over-sized barbarian straight later.

  They had no trouble moving through the crowd. Mother Brambles' bear companion could be seen easily over the heads of the revelers and all made sure to not tarry long in its path. They arrived at the edge of the wood and as if sensing this as their destination, the bear sniffed the ground and then half turned, falling over with a large exhale of air and a hefty thump.

  Mother Brambles took a familiar seat on his front leg and leaned back into the shaggy brown coat. She positioned her walking stick across her lap and took in her surroundings. She looked as if she sat upon a throne and was about to hold council.