Possessing the Grimstone (8 page)

His parents seemed unmoved by it. If they were nervous, they kept it a secret.

A dog barked in the distance. The sound of thunder echoed.

His parents shifted in their seats. Their infant daughter cried, and Pim’s mother went to her, forgetting her hot food.

Pim thought of the Red Coast and the wall of clouds. The sky reminded him of it. Had something come through? Were the whispers among the other Wivering true? Now more than ever, he wanted to join the Warrior Guild. If something did come, he wanted to help and be a part of the protection.

The sword he borrowed was under his bed; he could have it in his grip in seconds.

Thunder crashed now, right above them. The table shook. His father stopped eating as the spoon tumbled from his grip. Tal entered the room, crying, and ran to his mother’s arms.

“Something scary is coming,” Tal cried. “Something wants to devour us.”

“Hush,” his mother soothed. “It is just a storm, nothing more.”

“No, no… the other kids said… it is a herald. Nameless terror comes for us. Evil ones from the mist.”

“Tal,” his father called. “Enough. Do not speak of such nonsense. It is a storm, nothing more, just as your mother said.”

Tal whimpered and buried his face into his mother’s apron.

Pim grinned, then looked outside again. Wind whistled.

I’m ready.

Chapter Six

Inside the great palace at Cardoon, many of the land’s leaders gathered at a massive round stone table. Tolan watched King Endrille enter the meeting hall, a pair of guards escorting him.

Jorrel of the High Guard stood with Tolan, and on his other side, Olani and her escort, Nachin, waited. Some of the other council members of the North stood behind them. A few of the survivors of the Lake Lands lingered in the shadows, fear crippling them.

Ministers from the peasants and farmers of Cardoon also joined the table.

Dwellers of Llewallen Forest, a small, peaceful people, with no real army had sent representatives. They hadn’t fought, but they’d taken in refugees from the Lake Lands.

Representatives from Gwythroth, the Gray City, the most mysterious of the people of Athora, arrived swathed in robes and tribal masks. They were taller than anyone in the city.

Chatter filled the room as people posed question after question and terrified hypothesis after hypothesis. No order had come to the meeting; everyone talked, shouted, and accused. Wild stories were exchanged and compared.

The doors to the room flew open, and all eyes turned to see Drith and his twin brother, Gyrn, from the South, make a grand entrance into the room.

Nachin reached for the dagger in his belt, but Olani put her hand across his arm, halting him. She eyed Drith as he crossed the room, his body and face painted with swatches of scarlet, white, and turquoise. Gold chains pierced his nostrils and stretched to his earlobes, which were also studded with onyx pins. He carried a bejeweled scepter.

Drith turned his head to Olani and nodded to her with a grin. He and his brother, accompanied by a few of their people and some servant girls, stopped at the table.

Finally, Sooth-Malesh appeared. The crimson-robed mage seemed to step from the shadows, themselves, as if they’d woven him there on the spot. His expression was grim.

“Sooth-Malesh,” the King bellowed over the others in the room. “What news of this threat do you bring us?”

“I’m afraid it is bleak, my lord. More of their deathships have arrived on the Red Coast. Their army increases with every passing day. “

Sooth-Malesh pulled a crystal from his robe and set it on the stone table. The crystal spun and spun, moving to the center of the table until a shower of light burst from it.

Everyone took a step back, shading their eyes from the bright light.

A vision appeared: hundreds of thousands of raging creatures with hovering spirits tethered to them marched from the beaches of the Fifling Sea. War machines rolled with fiery quarrels; monstrous reptilian steeds howled and stomped. The crystal scoped the beach, showing the armies marching into many different directions, clubs, axes, daggers, and pole arms clattering against bone-clad armor and shields, stone-like teeth clicking, dozens of mages wielding powerful magic of fire, shadow, and necromancy.

“They have already regrouped in the North, and are cutting a path through it,” Sooth-Malesh said. “They have invaded Bhrungach. The walls have fallen.”

Olani’s head bowed, sadness in her eyes. Drith smirked at his brother.

The old mage continued. “Half of their vast army is marching this way, up the coast toward Cardoon.”

“What of the ghosts with them?” Tolan asked. “These spirits can attack, but cannot be harmed, in return.”

“They’re familiars. They are the spirits of creatures or animals slain in their homeland. They are tethered to them with totems. You see, the bones on their armor are the bones of the creatures they have killed. Their mages have enchanted the bones, thus binding the spirits to their killers. It gives more power to these things… whatever they are. If you break the bond, destroy the bones of the animal, they will be freed, and the master will weaken.”

“What do these monsters want?” Olani asked, her eyes welling.

“Ah, I am glad you asked.” Sooth-Malesh gestured to the crystal and the vision shifted back to the beach on the Red Coast. Among the thousands of tents and barges, a circle of high mages appeared. The horned wizards, twelve or more, wove their clawed-hands over a piece of stone, floating inside a receptacle.

Green-yellow energy swirled around the stone, waves of it rippled off as the mages focused their magic into it.

“They seek the other pieces of the Grimstone.”

“The what?” Nachin asked.

“The Grimstone: the ancient stone that nearly destroyed the First People. Long held as the most powerful magical artifact known to all of Athora. The First People, the Mulcavrii, knew it was too powerful for anyone to master. They tried to destroy it, but it would only shatter into three pieces. They were hidden over a thousand years ago. These creatures have obviously found one of the pieces, and they want the other two. They will wipe out everything to get them.”

“Grimstone?” Olani said. “I have never heard of this stone.”

“Only the oldest of grimoires make mention of it. It had all been forgotten by the people of Athora.”

“We did not forget it,” said one of the emissaries from Gwythroth. He drew closer to the table, tall, statuesque, his movements fluid. “We know it as the Ebon stone. It harnesses the abyss and the world of magic. Its power cannot be tamed. It is not of our world. That is why the Mulcavrii warred over it, and in the end, knew they had to rid themselves of it. It cannot be put back together… not by any being.”

“Why should we care what these creatures want?” Drith said, his brother grabbing hold of his arm. “So far, I see that they attack those whose cups run over.”

“That is not all they will attack!” Sooth-Malesh thundered, turning his enflamed eyes toward the King of the South. “They will stop at nothing to get the stone; they will crush every kingdom until they get it. And once they do, all of Athora will fall. The stone could destroy every living thing on our world. This army means to take our land and wipe all of us from it. No one is safe. This problem is all of ours.”

“Hence why I have summoned each one of you,” King Endrille said. “Dear friends, let us fight for what is ours. I ask you to join Cardoon in our crusade.”

“If we agree,” Drith said, “if we fight for all of our land, we in the South want compensation.”

“Of course,” the King bellowed. “What do you wish?”

“We want some land in the North. Our lands are dry and hot, and we cannot grow food. We want fertile land to keep our people from their harsh lives. What good is saving our lands if we still suffer?”

“Never!” Nachin raged. Olani turned to him in shock. “We would see you dead, first.”

“Northern dog!” Drith whipped his scepter. Its crown sprouted spikes and detached with a chain.

“Enough!” Olani yelled. “Enough of this fighting! Enough of this prejudice and hate! We have common enemies: foes that will destroy us all! In that matter, how can we fight them? They have already conquered all of the North, they march on, unstoppable, unchallenged. They have magic and familiars, and the power of their stone.”

“Together,” said Tolan. “They are but one army. Together, we can defeat them.”

“They are not the only ones with power,” the emissary from Gwythroth said. He vanished from his spot at the table, and then reappeared on the other side of it. Everyone in the room gasped.

“You can teleport,” Sooth-Malesh said.

“Yes, we can. Short distances. It can be useful in battle.”

“They are not the only ones useful in battle,” Drith said. He backed away from the table and headed for the nearest wall. He jumped onto it and scaled it like a spider. When he reached the top, he crawled across the ceiling, and dropped to the floor.

“Very good!” King Endrille clapped. “We will work out compensation: it is the only fair thing to do.”

“Please do,” Drith said, panting. “We have suffered enough; we will not help without bettering our situation.”

“So be it,” King Endrille said.

Nachin snarled. “M’lady, this cannot be allowed. The North will never surrender its land.”

Drith’s brother, Gyrn, walked up to him, and whispered into his ear. “Do not be so hasty to withhold, my brother. If we were to help defeat these creatures, we could claim the stone for ourselves. Then
we
could destroy the North and take all of its land, at last.”

Drith smiled. “You always know better, Brother.” He rejoined the table.

“Excellent,” King Endrille said. “My brothers and sisters, this scourge threatens our way of life, our very existence. Our Lord, Thet, would want us to work together. In his name, we must meet this threat head on, and vanquish it. I decree it. My good men, stop them from reaching Cardoon!”

Jorrel saluted the king. “Aye, your grace.” He turned to Tolan. “Easy for him to say.”

“Excellent.” King Endrille smiled from ear to ear, then pushed himself away from the table. “When will the enemy get here?”

Sooth-Malesh turned to the King. “About three days. Their beasts do not gallop as fast as our horses, and many of them are pulling great war machines. They are moving slowly, but steadily.”

“Fine,” the King said. “I will be in my chambers. Keep me informed on the battle.”

A sick feeling filled Tolan’s stomach. He had a bad feeling about all of it… the alliance of kingdoms, the new enemy, the stone… what was it, anyway? Thousands of years of no one knowing of its existence, and now…

“I know what you witnessed, my friend.” Jorrel leaned over to him. “After seeing the kingdoms and their talents, I feel that it is the way to go. We need all of the unique abilities we can get. Ride out to the Wivering in Gonnish. Ask them to send as many warriors as they can spare. Their fleet might be an advantage.”

“Aye, Geyess and I will ride. I just want you to know, the Wivering are not trained soldiers. They’re farmers.”

“I know… that’s where you come in.” Jorrel smiled and walked away.

Tolan sighed and watched the others depart: the mysterious people of Gwythroth, the twins of the South, Olani and her consort, Nachin.

I hope Thet cares enough to watch the battle, or we are all doomed.
Tolan followed the rest of them out of the palace and into the courtyard with its flowing fountains and bountiful gardens.

Olani turned back and walked past Tolan, returning to the meeting chamber.

“M’lady,” Nachin called, “the meeting is over.”

“I know, Nachin. I follow my own path. Please, see to the council. They need you more than I.”

He gave her a disagreeable look before continuing on.

Olani watched Sooth-Malesh call the crystal back to his hands, and went to him. “Your king was gracious to take my people in. He must see you as indispensable.”

“The King sees what he wishes.”

“I have always been fascinated by magic. Your scrying skills are impressive. When battle comes, the men will be glad to have you on their side. I can only imagine the hell you will rain upon the enemy.”

“I’m afraid you think too much of me, young lady. My magic is weak, and not fit for battle. I have been assigned to spying and foretelling our fates.”

“Who has assigned you?”

“The men, themselves. They are right. I have not fought anything in many years. I am no match for their mages.”

“Magic never grows weak; it is eternal. Only the user loses his faith. You have the power inside you, I can feel it. You broke through their defenses to see their plans.”

“Only because their focus is in many areas… they can’t block me and fight on all sides of the land.”

“You need to believe in yourself, again. You’re the only one who can do that.”

“I might say the same to you, my young leader. You did not fail your people. You saved them. Had you not sought the help of Cardoon, you would all be dead now.”

“How did you…”

“I have impressive scrying skills.” He winked at her before vanishing through the nearest wall.

Olani stood in the silent room, pondering.
I did do the right thing. I did. We will get our land back, and return stronger than ever.
A shiver rippled over her shoulders; she held herself and walked from the room. Dull pain filled her stomach.

###

Pim and his friends circled one another in jest when they saw the steeds approaching in the distance. It was two men in full battle armor. The boys stopped, and watched the soldiers approach their village.

Dogs barked. Wivering left the fields to greet the strangers entering their land.

Thousands of Wivering gathered as the horses galloped into the village center. The order of Thet made its way from their temple. The Warrior Guild filed from their training ground, swords in hand.

Pim’s heart thumped in his chest, adrenaline pumping through him. He felt his eyes tingle. His feet itched.

The clouds above stirred as the soldiers came to a halt.