Possessing the Grimstone (2 page)

“Go on, run,” Ono said to Pim. “You’re the one who said you could run across it without falling in.”

“It can be done,” Pim replied. “We just need to focus the energy of the fleet.”

“It’s a myth,” Arc said. “My father said it’s just a story they used to tell each other to feel like our people were special and magical.”

“It’s real. I can feel it.” Pim stared at the roaring river. The current moved quickly, the mid-point looked so far away. He picked up a stone and tossed it across the surface of the water. It skipped three times, and then plopped into the water.

“See, that’s going to be you,” Ono said with a grin.

“You’re all just afraid, scared little snow doves.”

“Show us, then,” Arc said, clapping him on the back.

A ray of moonlight glimmered over the river. Pim prepared to run, but hesitated, sucking in air, and then releasing it.

“Your eyes are glowing,” Ono said to him.

“See,” Pim replied. “It’s a sign. Neither of your eyes glow. Watch and learn, boys…”

Pim took a few steps back, held his breath, balled his hands into fists, and ran. He let out his breath as he hit the water. His legs carried him across the shore in a blink of an eye. He moved like the wind nearly to the middle of the river, and fell feet first into the water.

Something moved past him as he sank. It slithered around his leg. Pim panicked and pushed to the surface as fast as he could.

His head bobbed, and the current took him, water filling his mouth, and he swallowed. He looked over at the embankment and saw Ono and Arc waving to him, terror in their eyes.

Pim went under again, shooting down the river. Again and again he would rise above the water, but each time he tried to cry out, his mouth would fill with water.

Past the thrashing, he saw his two friends again, dashing across the edge of the river, outrunning the current.

Pim sank once more, and then thrust his feet off a jagged stone. He broke the surface and reached out for the tree branch his friends had thrust out into the water.

Ono and Arc pulled with all of their might, dragging Pim out of the current until he could wade safely to the shore.

He stood, his bare feet sinking into the gritty sand that glinted in the moonlight.

“Are you okay?” Ono asked.

Pim opened his mouth to speak, but instead spit out water. Then he collapsed.

###

When Pim woke, his mother was sitting beside his bed. Concern filled her eyes. “I’m okay,” he whispered.

She wiped his brow with a damp cloth, and, without a word, left the room. His father appeared in her wake.

“You abused the fleet again, didn’t you? What have I told you, Pim? Over and over again! You cannot run upon the water. Stop being so foolish.”

“I almost made it.”

“You almost drowned. When are you going to give up these childish games? You are almost eighteen, now. Almost a man. It is time for you to behave like one, and think about finding your place in this world. There will come a time when your sister and mother will depend on you.”

“You don’t understand, Father.”

“I don’t think
you
understand. The First People left us their gifts to follow in their purity. Must I remind you of the teaching?”

“Oh, by Thet, himself…”

“The First People traded their wings so that we may fish in the rivers and farm in the fields. It is because of them that we now span the fields in the blink of an eye.”

Pim rolled his eyes and turned over. “I need to rest, Father, I’m feeling sickly.”

“So be it.”

He listened to his father’s soft steps exit the room, and the door creak shut behind him. Outside his bedroom window, the stars danced about the night sky, and the moon grew round and fat. He had heard that the light of the stars moved faster than any known thing in the world. That was what he wanted: to move with the stars.

###

On the Red Coast to the east, Tolan of Cardoon rode among the rocky shore of the Fifling Sea, a beach devoid of life and vegetation, a barren red rock and rust-filled arm stretching from horizon to horizon. The red rock and rust sand gave the coast its name.

He looked across the water at the wall of clouds and mist that forever blocked travel and exploration of anything that existed on the Eastern Point—if anything existed at all. He carried his city’s banner with pride, the tip of it a razor sharp spear, should any trouble arise on his journey. Even so, there was always his trusty saber resting in its sheath at his side.

A gentle breeze stirred the banner and caressed his face. The clouds rolled within each other, never diminishing, ever moving toward land. It was as if the morning sun and wind had no affect on them.

Tolan had observed them over the years many times, and they always unnerved him, as if they were hiding something. He suspected that they were.

A low rumble of thunder caught the knight’s attention. He stopped his steed and waited. The thunder grew louder, and a flash of lightning rose from the sea to the sky. It was most unsettling.

Storms often formed over the Fifling Sea, but today it just seemed different. Light crackled inside the wall of mist. Tolan watched with interest, but soon the light faded, and the thunder dwindled.

He decided to report the activity back to the High Guard of Cardoon. It was probably nothing to worry about, but it was his duty as a member of the Circle Guard. Belonging to the Circle meant looking for threats or dangers to Cardoon on a journey every third week to the Eastern Point. Two members of the guard would take turns heading out of the city each week, splitting up. One would ride to the east and travel the Gravik’s Spade, a region of chasms and cliffs in the shape of a spade that cut directly into the lowlands, named after the farmers of Cardoon’s God of the harvest. Then they’d head through the salt lands, making their way to the Red Coast. The other rider would head north to the borders of Bhrungach, monitoring the on and off wars between the North and the South before heading past the Lake Lands to the Red Coast.

Each rider would pass the other and head back to Cardoon, reporting if anything was amiss. The lands of the west and far south were out of the jurisdiction of the city boundaries; they were ruled by the Wivering of Gonnish and the people of the M’illium Fells. The Fells were great mountains of magic where the warrior mages of D’Elkyrie made their cloud-capped homes. Between Gonnish and M’illium Fells, many rolling green hills sprouted with a network of rivers and marshes. Yagmire Hills was the biggest of these, and was home to many Wood Sprites and Gnomes.

Tolan rode on, galloping across the beach and making his way to the Lake Lands with its host of small villages and fishing towns. He wondered about the wall of mist and why it had always been there. What was it hiding? Was there anything beyond? No one had ever been through it. It was thought to be impassible. Not a single boat dared to sail into the wall for fear of never returning. Any trade or sailing expedition stuck straight to the coastline and traveled north to south, or vice versa. There was always the Baltha Sea, but no one in Cardoon had much use for it: it was only a trade route between the west and the island lands of Norrow.

He looked back on the mist before riding out of its view. The land began to transform into fields, grassy knolls, and even a forest. He followed a path through Llewallen Forest and spotted his best friend in all the Circle Guard, Geyess, heading toward him.

“Whoa,” Tolan called to his steed. He put his hand up to Geyess. “Good to see you, my friend.”

“And you, as well,” Geyess said, pulling his horse to a stop. “How is your journey?”

“Uneventful. And you? How do the Lake Lands fair?”

“Quiet. The villages barely noticed me, and the raids from the South seemed to have stopped. At least for now.”

“Very good. And what of Bhrungach?”

“I didn’t get close enough to find out. You know what those Northerners think of us.”

Tolan laughed. “That I do. They’d serve us spoiled meat and sour milk and call it good hospitality before showing us the door.”

Geyess smiled. “I hope the Red Coast behaves itself on my pass.”

“I feel it will.”

“Those clouds of mist always make my blood run cold.”

“Just don’t look them in the eyes…” Tolan smirked, and Geyess shook his head. “I am off to report back to the city.”

“Safe journey to you.”

“And to you. See you at home.”

The two friends departed, and Tolan continued on his forest path. In the distance, he caught a glimpse of the first lake within the Lake Lands.

###

The massive gates of Cardoon opened, allowing Tolan entry. He rode past the farmlands on the outskirts of the city. Peasants made homes in the fields, and sold their harvest once a week inside the city’s walls. They grew all manner of vegetables and fruit, and bred livestock for meat. Each knight that went out of the gate had to endure the markets and bazaars: all the peddlers lined up to sell food, clothes, wine, and jewels.

Tolan moved through them all without losing a coin, and entered the city confines. He strolled into the first courtyard, and returned his banner to its rightful place upon the pedestals lining the pathway.

He was greeted by the High Guardsman, Jorrel. “Hark, Tolan, what news do you bring us?”

Tolan dismounted and shook Jorrel’s hand. “I saw lightning in the misty clouds of the Fifling Sea.”

“Lightning?” Jorrel confirmed. “Was there thunder?”

Tolan nodded.

“Well, a storm over the sea is no cause for fret. It does happen from time to time.”

“It has been quite some time since any thunder was heard in those clouds.”

“True, but a natural occurrence, nonetheless.”

“It wasn’t thunder.” A voice rasped behind them.

Tolan turned to see the cloaked mage standing with a grimoire in his hands. His dusty frock and cowl flapped in the breeze. He had a grave look on his face as he stormed over to them.

“Sooth-Malesh, what brings you down from the spires?”

“The news young Tolan brings, of course.”

“There is no news. You should go back to your brews and luck stones.”

“Fool, that was no thunder. No lightning. Describe this lightning to me, Tolan.”

“Of course, Sooth-Malesh. It rose from the water through to the clouds. Then the inside crackled with light.”

“Crackled with light,” Sooth-Malesh said, raising his eyebrow. “Lightning does not behave in this manner. It was not lightning. Something is breaking through the mist. There is magic use afoot.”

“I’m not sure if it was magic,” Tolan replied. “But it was strange.”

“Strange, indeed. It was something trying to break through. We are all in grave danger. The city—nay—the lands should be put on alert.”

“I’m not putting the city on alert for natural phenomena,” Jorrel said.

“It wasn’t natural. Something on the other side is coming.”

“There is nothing on the other side. The land ends at the Red Coast. There is nothing but water. Beyond this mist, the world ends. That’s why no ships have ever sailed through it. We are in no danger.”

“You’re wrong, High Guardsman. We are all in danger. Something is coming. Heed my words. Warn the King!”

“I’m sorry, Sooth-Malesh. I cannot do that. Please, return to the spires.”

“You’re fools… all of you. You will remember this day when you did not heed my words.”

“Of course.” Jorrel nodded as Sooth-Malesh turned and wandered back through the courtyard.

“He’s quite upset,” Tolan said.

“He’s always upset. Always raving about something. The end is coming, the end is coming.”

“Well, it was strange. The way the clouds lit up was something I had never seen.”

“Well, it doesn’t mean it wasn’t natural.”

###

In the top of the tallest black spire, Sooth-Malesh slammed his grimoire onto his pedestal. Dust puffed into a cloud from beneath the book. He flipped it open, and turned each page of parchment. He studied the various energy fields of magic, and looked over the after effects and the residual energy. He re-read about the mist and the legends surrounding it. He then found the page with the most powerful magical item of all: the Grimstone. The only one of its kind, a war that almost tore the fabric of their world apart was fought over it. The stone could not be destroyed, nor could it be kept in storage by any living thing. Thus, the First People managed to break it into three pieces, and had hid them in secret, scattered throughout the world.

Only one thing could get through that mist: magic from the Grimstone. Even one piece of the stone could probably do it. It had to be what was attempting to break through the misty wall. Once whatever it was got through, then what?

Sooth-Malesh shut the book. He ran to his crystals and laid them on the work table before him. He wove a withered hand over them, but nothing happened. He lit a candle and gazed into its flame. No vision came.

“I’m being blocked,” he said with trembling lips. He was even more alarmed than before.

Chapter 2

Pim stood in a circle with his friends. He dropped a spiny shell to the ground—the husk of a bristle back coon—and kicked it.

Ono dashed over and kicked it as it spun in mid-air. Arc leapt behind him and caught the shell, passing it back to Pim. It overshot him, but the young Wivering flew like the wind across the grass, and caught it before it hit the ground.

He rejoined his friends as they bounced the prickly shell from one to another.

“So, you’re feeling better?” Ono asked.

“Never better,” Pim said. “Thanks for the tree branch.”

“It was nothing. Better luck next time.”

“Oh, I’ll make it all the way next time. I was halfway there.”

“Yeah, okay,” Arc said.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Not saying that, it’s just, well, the river bested you.”

“For now. I’ll prove it to both of you. Not only will I master the water, but I’ll leap over the trees.”

They both laughed.

“Pim, stick to kicking the bristle back shell. It can’t kill you when you fail.”

“I won’t fail. I’ll show you both.”