Possessing the Grimstone - By John Grover Page 0,11
use for your sword before that.”
“What do you mean?”
“The traders that came this morning? They were gypsies from the forest.”
“So?”
“They heard talk on the roads. Something came through the wall of mist last night. Out on the Red Coast.”
“Impossible. There is nothing beyond the mist. It’s been there for ages. The land just drops off into the darkness.”
“I’m not so sure. They said it was something terrible, something evil with an undying hunger. All of Athora is in danger.”
“It’s nonsense. Just stories, like the First People and the father Thet, who poured the dawn into the water and created land.”
“Ah, believe what you want… like how we can run on top of water and leap over trees. Those are stories, too, aren’t they?” Ono skipped off to join the others boys, running with the dogs.
Pim stood pondering for a moment, replaying Ono’s last words in his mind. What if it were true? What if something had come through the mist? His skill would be needed now more than ever. He was glad he picked the warrior sect: now he could serve his people and be more than just a farmer. In all honesty, the idea of a new danger actually excited him, and he relished it.
“I’m telling Father!” Tal cried, pointing at Pim’s sword.
“No you’re not.”
Tal dashed off to the village, using his fleet of foot, but Pim was older and much faster than his little brother. He chased after him, leaving his sword behind.
###
“You can’t send out two more Circle Guards—the other two haven’t come back yet.” Tolan argued with Jorrel.
“And how else do you suppose we track them down?”
“Dispatch a battalion. Something’s wrong.”
“I told you before, it’s an overreaction. We’re not going to alarm the entire kingdom. We’ll send out the normal rotation and have them report back, or perform search and rescue. That is all.”
Tolan sneered, but said nothing further. He left the watchtower and stormed down the stairs.
At the foot of the black spires, Tolan began to climb the steps, twisting around and around. A flock of crawmares fluttered past him, dropping black feathers as they went. Not a good sign. He climbed steeper, and was nearly out of breath when a stench rose in his nostrils. Rounding the last corner, he came to a wooden door with a moon and stars carved into it: the chamber of Sooth-Malesh.
Tolan knocked hard. “Wizard, I seek an audience. I believe you. Sooth-Malesh?”
The door creaked open and the darkness slithered out. Incense, stinkweed, and soot filled Tolan’s senses. His eyes watered.
“Come…” Sooth-Malesh beckoned.
The young warrior entered slowly, candles igniting one by one as he walked. Walls lined with bookshelves took shape, ancient tomes, and musty volumes crowded the shelves, which sagged from the weight.
A table in disarray with all manner of flask, bottle, mortar and pestle, herb, and oil appeared on his left. Pedestals flanked the corners, sconces held yet more candles. Trunks of magical items were stacked against brick walls, rugs of various shapes and sizes layered the floor.
To the back of the room, up some stone steps, Tolan noticed more doors. Some led to even higher reaches of the spires, and some led out to bridges that connect the six spires to one another.
Blue-purple smoke trickled in the air from urns at the bottom of the stone steps. One of the many doors opened, and Sooth-Malesh appeared. He walked into his chamber and an empty chair slid across the floor to meet him. It nearly tripped the old mage into it.
“Well, what do you mean you believe me?”
“There is a foul taste in the air,” Tolan said. “I feel it deep down in my bones. Something is wrong. Athora itself is in danger, isn’t it?”
The mage nodded.
“Tell me what you have found out so I may go to the King.”
“You may not want to hear it.”
“I must. My friends in the Circle Guard are out there, and more are being sent as we speak. I have troubled over this all night, gaining no sleep at all.”
“Dear boy,” he got out of the chair and went directly to his worktable. Tolan joined his side. “They tried blocking me at first, so I couldn’t see them. But they’re working too much magic in their attacks now to stay hidden.”
“Who?”
“Patience, patience, Lad.” Sooth-Malesh opened his musty book again. “I do not know what they’re called, but they’re more ruthless than anything in our land. Barbaric, relentless, and dark as the abyss.”
Tolan watched with restraint as the old mage thumbed through