Time of the Stonechosen (The Soulstone Prophecy Book 2)

by Thomas Quinn Miller

  The last sentence was spoken with more than a little venom. Gaidel realized she wasn't the only one hurt by Ghile's actions. She knew Riff had no real interest in this village or its problems. He preferred soft beds and a giggling girl on his knee, one not covered in mud. For some reason the image that brought to mind bothered her. The sorcerer truly was insufferable. She stood up and wiped nonexistent wrinkles from the folds of her robes.

  “Thank you, Craluk. Your offer is most kind. But, we must find Ghile,” she said.

  “You know where he is headed, don't you?” Riff said.

  “Riff, that is enough.” She gave him a dangerous look. They had not been overly forthcoming with Craluk and the others for fear of their reaction. It would be difficult to explain why Ghile journeyed towards the City of the Fallen and why a sorcerer, a druid and her shieldwarden chased after him.

  Riff looked ready to say more, but Two Elks chose that time to stand up and give him a look that left little doubt what would happen if he did.

  Riff threw his hands in the air. “Fine! I figured as much. I'll go get my stuff. I at least owe it to Master Ecrec to recover the idiot's body.” He stomped off through the reeds, waving away the villagers as they came up to ask him questions.

  Craluk scratched his head. “Maybe the boy still a little sick in da head, no? He head'n straight inta the Deepwood. Elves shoa to get im ifn the dead ones don't.”

  “We need to find him, Craluk. He is…important,” Gaidel said.

  “Shoa, Daughter Gaidel. I promised ya a guide. Lotte will go with ya. I reckon you can catch up with him a'fore too long.”

  “No, I couldn't ask you to risk yourselves-”

  “I owe ya fer whatcha done did fer me boy. It is done.” With that, Craluk whistled for Lotte and waved him back.

  Gaidel relented with a sigh. “We would be honored to have him. Thank you, Craluk.”

  He nodded and headed back into the village. Lotte ran past them, his smile taking up most of his face.

  Gaidel turned to follow, when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

  “There something I must tell you, Little Daughter,” Two Elks said.

  14

  Into the Deepwood

  Ghile leaped the wide forested ravine, his necklace of worg fangs rising from his chest to hang suspended before his eyes. He cleared the other side with room to spare. He would make Two Elks proud. He would make them all proud.

  He landed, using his force shield to slow his descent. The widening field flattened a large area around him. He dismissed the mental image with hardly a thought and resumed running before the first plant rose behind him.

  He wondered how far the ravine stretched through the wood? He had been running nonstop since leaving the village. The valehounds were having a hard enough time keeping up with him without an obstacle like a ravine adding to it. He sent his mind probing out in search of Ast and Cuz. He kept his focus on the forest falling away before him, on the steady rise and fall of his chest. It wouldn't do to concentrate fully on finding them and run headlong into a tree. Not at this pace.

  His thoughts were like tendrils, reaching, searching for life. He sensed the birds and other forest denizens. The wood was filled with them.

  A furry carcass hung from his belt and slapped against his thigh in rhythm with his long strides. An animal he had never seen before, it resembled a ferret, but thicker, with red and grey stripes and a long muzzle.

  He had barely slowed to scoop it up after using the power to kill it. He had spotted it as it made a dash from cover at his approach. He reached out and mind touched it, consuming it as quickly and painlessly as possible. For a short time afterwards, his sense of smell was heightened, a gift from the creature. It would provide him with dinner tonight. A part of him felt guilty, but he had to eat.

  He finally touched the minds of the two Valehounds. Ast was off to his left, Cuz to the right, guarding his flank. They were a good distance away and neither were struggling through the ravine. He could feel their exhilaration as they ran along, trying to keep up with him. He could smell the scents of the forest through their minds. He still marveled at the myriad of smells that existed in their world. The mindtouch reminded him he was not alone. He would need to collect something for dinner tonight for them as well. Maybe a couple of fat rabbits or another one of these striped creatures.

  Rays of sunlight pushed through the thick canopy, like glowing columns holding up the green ceiling of some huge cavern, breaking up the perpetual twilight of the Deepwood. He tried to dodge them as he ran, as if their light would hurt him if it touched his skin, expose him for leaving the others. No, he had done the right thing.

  He focused on how incredible he felt. He had been running since before the first blush of dawn transformed the blacks and greys of the wood into shades of green. He didn't need the light to see, what little light there was in this place. The soulstones granted sight even in the deepest cave. He learned that when he first faced the wargs and Muk back on the Horn. But, he could see farther with the light and he preferred the varying colors to the different shades of grey his night vision brought.

  He breathed in the cool moist air, heavy with the smells of the wood, letting it fill his chest until he couldn't hold anymore. He let it out slowly and evenly, just to test if he could keep his current pace and still control his breathing. Had he tried to run like this before becoming stonechosen, he would have been gasping for air, a stitch in his side doubling him over with pain. This truly was incredible.

  He ducked under one of the numerous roots spreading out from the gigantic trees. Any one of the roots here in the Deepwood was as big as the trunks of the redwoods of home. The roots he couldn't run under, he leaped over, long leaps helped along by the power of the soulstones. How could these new found gifts be the very thing that would lead him to his death? Or the death of Akira.

  There, he had said it. He knew deep down, the decision to leave the others in the village, the need to run and jump, push himself to his physical limits, all came from the desire to not think about what they said he had to do when he finally reached Akira. Last night's talk with Two Elks had settled things for him.

  He didn't need them to tell him, he knew what the soulstones would make him feel. Even now, he followed the pull he felt deep in his chest, the pull that would lead him to her. He remembered the yearning to have Muk's soulstone when he first saw the goblin. He had never wanted anything so much before in his life. Now, as he drew closer to Akira, he could feel the tingling, the urge slowly building. It was his desire that showed him the direction. Or was it?

  Were these feelings even his or were they the desires of the soulstones. He wondered more than once if it was the two soulstones now burned into his chest, into his very bone, that made him feel this way. Was this their desire coming through him? It made sense.

  Ghile remembered the intense pain he felt both times he found soulstones. No one in their right minds would want to feel such pain, to experience them crawling under the skin like slugs until they reached the chest and burned themselves into the bone next to the others, forming that strange spiral pattern. And if it was the soulstones causing this desire, then it was something he could fight.

  He did want to find Akira. But, he wanted to find her so he could help her. He wanted to help her brother, Ashar, to free them and then flee the Fallen City. Then what? Where would they go?

  Ghile slowed his run to a walk and ran his hands through his hair. Even if he wasn't tired, his body was showing the signs of exertion, sweaty brown curls clung to his forehead. He took another deep breath and sent out a mental summons to Ast and Cuz. There was no need to keep up this pace any longer. It was hard to tell how late in the day it was in the gloom of the forest, but they had covered much ground and he was hungry. There was no way the others would be able to catch him, even if they were able to find his trail. He hoped they wouldn't. He hoped they would return home and forget him. He could hear the two valehounds rushing through the undergro
wth.

  The others. He felt the guilt for leaving them like something rotten, at the bottom of his gut. They had given up everything to come with him. Two Elks carried his unconscious form out of the Ghost Fens. They faced swamp cats and the frost wyrm all because of him. But he had to do this. Had to leave them. It wasn't only about Akira or what Two Elks said.

  What if one of them died? He remembered how bad Riff's leg had been savaged by that cat. Daughter Gaidel healed him, but what if next time she was too late? Could Ghile live with himself if one of them died because they were trying to protect him? No, it was better this way. This way he would not be responsible for their deaths and they would not be able to make him take Akira's soulstone.

  Ast and Cuz reached his side. Ast nuzzled against his waist, hoping for a scratch. Cuz sniffed at the dead animal hanging from Ghile's belt. He moved Cuz's snout away with a laugh and brush of his hand.

  “This one isn't for you, boy. I'll find you another one later. Okay?” Ghile formed a mental image and pushed it towards Cuz.

  “How would you like a fat tasty rabbit?”

  Cuz barked his appreciation. Ghile could sense the pleasure coming off the valehound in waves.

  When he first started communicating with the two hounds, he tried speaking to them like he would another human. But he learned his ability to communicate with animals didn't change the way they thought or how they thought. It seemed to be mostly emotions and images. When they were hungry images of hunting for prey or eating would replace the words of humans. With the valehounds it was as much about smells as any other senses. He still had a hard time absorbing all the different smells they could sense. They could almost communicate through shared smells alone.

  He also found it interesting that the smells were the same. A tree or a tuft of grass smelled exactly the same to Cuz as it did to Ast. He remembered a time long past when Adon pondered that very question. They lay awake one summer's night in Upper Vale. They had chosen to sleep outside the roundhouse that night and even made a small fire to chase off the always present chill in Upper Vale. Adon went on and on about how what he thought green looked like might not be the same as what Ghile thought green looked like. Ghile remembered laughing at how frustrated Adon became each time Ghile acted like he didn't understand. Now he knew it was the same for everyone and everything. At least for animals and himself, that was. He would have to tell Adon the next time he saw him in the Dreaming.

  “Ouch!” Something small and sharp struck Ghile in the head, followed by several other small painful stings in his neck and shoulders. Almost without thinking he crouched, extending his spear to the side for balance and raised his other hand to form a mental shield. The protective dome snapped into existence above him.

  Other small spear like missiles bounced of the shield. Above him, scores of small flying creatures, trailing dust of multicolored hues, dove towards him on tiny translucent wings. Each banked before reaching him and hurled something.

  Ghile dropped his spear and touched his neck. He felt something stuck in his skin. He winced as he pulled it out and examined it. A long thin thorn like spear, covered in a purplish syrup and his own blood.

  Small shouts proceeded pain shooting up from his feet and legs. He tried to dance back and tripped, something clinging to his leggings in several places. Small brown creatures, each no bigger than a potato swarmed over him. Their faces were covered with grizzly green beards beneath enormous warty noses. Each waved a jagged stone or small sharpened stick.

  Ghile could hear their shouts. Beneath the strange unintelligible croaks and whoops he could sense more than hear the words, translated by the soulstones.

  “Stop the human!”, “Trespasser!”, “It is not marked, get it!”

  Marked? Ghile thought. Stop the human? Above him, He could hear the same sentiments, but in high flitty voices.

  Ghile focused and pulled in the shield above him and then pushed it out from all around him. It happened even before he could think about the fact he had never made one so large before. All about him the sounds of his attackers became muffled. The small potato like creatures tumbled away in all directions.

  Ghile gasped for air and realized he hadn't thought about that. He quickly pictured a small space opening before his nose and mouth.

  He breathed in the welcomed air and looked for Ast and Cuz. The two valehounds lay nearby panting and watching. Simply, watching. A mixture of relief that they were unharmed fought with Ghile's irritation that they were not doing anything to help him. Seriously?

  He reached for their minds and sensed something wrong. A sort of haze permeated their thoughts. He wanted to push through it, to clear it, but had no idea how to begin. A few of the creatures not participating in the attack were stroking the Valehounds long white hair, further relaxing them. He could see small spear-like thorns, like the ones that struck him, hanging from their pelts.

  Ghile stood up and imagined more of the area around his face clear from the mental shield. Sound rushed in as it became reality. The attack continued, small projectiles hailing down from above and the potatoes, having regrouped, slamming sticks and stones against the shield around his shins and feet.

  Realizing neither he nor his valehounds were in any real immediate danger, Ghile spent a moment to take it all in. What were these things? He had never seen them in the Redwood. He could see other types mixed in the colored butterfly looking ones and the big nosed bearded potatoes. There were living mushrooms and others that resembled large insects. The one thing they all had in common was they did not like him being here.

  “Why are you attacking us?” Ghile said.

  The change was almost instant. The chaos of noise and motion becoming silent and still. Even the ones that flew stopped and hovered, staring at him in confusion.

  “I said why are you attacking us? We have done you no harm,” Ghile repeated.

  Some of them clapped and pointed at him, as if he had done some great trick. Others huddled together and whispered to themselves, all the while shooting him furtive glances. One of the potato men, for it seemed they were all bearded, ignored him completely and was curiously probing the mind shield near his feet with a stumpy brown hand.

  When the silence broke, it broke like a sudden spring rain.

  “Why are you not asleep?”

  “Your own fault for not bearing the mark!”

  “Who are you?”

  “Can I ride your hounds?”

  “How come I cannot hit you?”

  “Where did you learn our language?”

  “Why are you here?”

  Ghile blinked and tried to shake away the barrage. “Wait, wait. One at a time.” The change from violence to childlike innocence was so sudden in the creatures, Ghile couldn't help but laugh. There was something about them that he couldn't explain, but he found himself taking an immediate liking to them.

  He thought of his little sister, Tia. How she would have clapped to see this multitude of woodland creatures and their rumpus.

  The potato man who had been testing Ghile's mind shield called for the others to quiet down. Two of the butterfly ones began to mimic him and chitter between themselves.

  When it seemed to the creature it had gotten as much silence as it was like to, it motioned for Ghile to come closer. “You're a human and don't belong here. So we attacked you. That is your answer. Now answer ours.” Its voice was deep and scratchy. When it spoke, its mouth opened wide and its whisker covered cheeks bloomed out. It crossed its arms with its final words and glared up at him, waiting.

  Ghile knelt before the blunt creature. “What are you?”

  It continued to glare at him waiting. A couple of the others had moved up to stand next to it and upon seeing its pose, copied it and glared at Ghile as well.

  “Oh, right. Of course, your questions.” Ghile tried to sort through the earlier barrage. As much as he found himself liking these diminutive creatures, he wasn't sure he was comfortable sharing who he really was or more imp
ortantly, his destination. But, in answering any other than his name, he didn't see how he could avoid it. He didn't know how they would react if they learned he was stonechosen. It seemed bad enough he was human. He could just walk away from them, they could not harm him after all, but there was Ast and Cuz to consider. It seemed he hadn't taken them into account when he decided to separate himself from the others in hopes of protecting them.

  Well, there was nothing for it. The truth, then.

  “I am Ghile Stonechosen. That is Ast and the other Cuz. The answer to your other questions: why I am not affected by your poison, can speak with you, and your weapons cannot hit me is in my name. I am stonechosen.”

  Ghile expected them to attack or turn and flee in terror. He did not expect them to simply stand there and nod as if he had just told them the sky was blue.

  “Name's Gutroot. I'm a Hob,” was the reply. Some of the surrounding hobs began repeating the word hob and nodding. They made Ghile think of a group of toads. The other creatures began calling out their names as well as what they were. The ones that looked like butterflies were pixies. The bug like ones, sprites. Their names were things of the wood, Thistlestem, Dewdrop, Blossom and so on. It became a game for them to vie for his attention and call out their names.

  He didn't remember when he had lowered his shield, but it was when he noted a number of the hobs working their way under Ast and Cuz and begin carrying them away that Ghile thought about his protection.

  “Hey, what are you doing with them?” He said.

  “They are coming with us,” Gutroot said.

  “With you? No their not. They are staying with me,” Ghile said.

  “Same,” Gutroot replied. “You are coming with us, too.”

  “With you? Where?”

  “To see the Alvar, of course,” Gutroot called over his wide shoulder, having already turned and started to hobble away.

  “Alvar?” Ghile said. “What are Alvar?”