Possessing the Grimstone - By John Grover Page 0,54

upon his home, their dark magic burning, their war machines grinding. The skies were pitch, even in mid-day, and the lands around him looked alien.

Guilt gnawed at Jorrel’s heart. He thought of all those who had fallen. He thought of Tolan on his treacherous journey. He thought of Tolan’s best friend, Geyess, engulfed by the evil of the Neshing, and saw the ashes of his people in their battles with this emotionless, cold enemy.

How could he have so blindly dismissed the signs? How could he have treated his trusted friend, Tolan, so badly? What pride kept him from acting, from believing? His actions had brought the enemy to their front door, had caused a king to retreat and become disinterested, and had turned their homes into refugee camps for the starving and destroyed.

The souls of all those who died called to him inside his mind, accusing, condemning, begging for justice. So help me, by all the Gods of Athora, I will repair this blunder, or die trying. I will get that damned piece of stone and bring it to Sooth-Malesh, myself.

Jorrel and his men rode into the Salt Lands, and from here, they would reach the first beach of the Red Coast. They couldn’t just ride head-on into them. At the last moment, Jorrel directed the horsemen from the Salt Lands to the vast Wizened Forest that would eventually border the beach of the Fifling Sea. He hoped an approach from the forest would give them the element of surprise. Only time would tell.

###

Olani read a book of Cardoon fairy tales out loud to hundreds of her people’s children. They were huddled together down below the palace and the spires as their parents watched with fear etched on their faces. Some cradled their little ones. Outside, the Neshing attacks rumbled like thunder in the distance. Olani kept her wards distracted with magical tales and heroic poems.

Nachin walked to her side, setting his hand on the back of her chair. She caught his presence out of the corner of her eye.

“M’lady,” he whispered into her ear. “Your place is with the council.”

“My place is with my people.” She looked over her shoulder. The council men were watching her from the shadows. It made her uncomfortable. They never agreed with anything she did, always disapproving and judging her. Even today, with their homeland in ruins and their government in shambles, they were no different. It was about them, and only them: the council, the great council.

She looked up at Nachin. “Tell them to join us.”

“M’lady, that is hardly appropriate.”

“You are right, it is not appropriate. It is much more than that. It is the right thing to do, appropriate for the council, or not. Tell them to join us, or occupy themselves elsewhere. I will not have them staring at me from the dark like thieves preparing to cut my throat.”

“As you wish.” He nodded and slipped away.

More and more, Nachin resisted her wishes. She realized he had served every leader of the council, and had been a constant companion, but these days, it was if she didn’t know him. His interest was more in the old men and their old fashioned ways then the good of the North. Maybe it was time to replace him.

The skies rumbled. Olani returned to her book. Whimpers filled the hall, but as she read the final words of the first story, a hush fell over the room.

“And the King’s daughter, Eloise, eternally grateful and fbrimming with love, threw her arms around her handsome hero, Quinn.”

She looked up at the throngs of children of all ages and their distraught parents, and smiled widely. “Now, who wants to hear the story of a world filled with elves, amazons, and fairies who must all defeat an evil queen?”

Dozens of hands rose into the air.

Olani opened a new book and started to read.

###

“The barrier is weakening,” Sooth-Malesh said to Olani. “I feel it in my bones.”

After everyone had fallen asleep, she’d made her way to the crimson mage's side and watched the Neshing attack the barrier.

“You will rise to the occasion if it falls,” she replied.

“I don’t think I have a choice. Man, alone, cannot defeat the Neshing, not with their piece of the stone.”

“We must have faith and rediscover our strength. Only then can we triumph. If I had given up, even with my sickness combating my every move, I would not be alive now, encouraging you.”

“You are not sick,” Sooth-Malesh said.

“But I am. Some days I am