Chapter 10

Chapter

Ten

TAMAS

A savage gale whipped through the blackened trees, howling like a hungry pack of wolves on the heels of their prey. It was an ice wind with a fierce bite, mean enough to reach my heart. I clapped my hands across my arms hoping to find some comfort, even if for a few seconds, but it felt as though the unceasing wind had almost turned my body to stone.

Thick, rich, loamy soil weighed my boots, turning each step into additional labor. Thick knotted branches broke the sun's weak rays. They shone like shattered glass across the forest floor.

A curious feeling drove my quest, despite not understanding where I was or where I was going. There were no such places as this in the north, no forest so cursed that nothing thrived, not even the creeper underfoot. This had to be another dream. And not my dream, unless my mind was not yet free of the Ashenlands.

Damn those Eone. There was nothing else to explain why I was wondering through these dead lands. I would find great pleasure in demanding they show themselves so I could roar with fury at their faces for dismissing my demand, but I had to keep going. Why? I had no idea. But this ever present, mysterious feeling was like rope lassoed around my legs, pulling me forward. Even my heart agreed, pulsing signals of encouragement with every step I took.

Was chaining my body to a silent command also the Eone's doing?

If I ever saw them again, I'd introduce them to one of the many twisted aberrations of my soul. That's once I freed myself from the binds of this feeling. And something told me I would fail at that unless I reached my destination wherever that may be. Upward. That's the only way my legs seemed willing to go.

Rather than stay furious at the Eone for how easily they had manipulated my dreams, I was best turning that fury into strength and getting me out of this cursed forest. Stomping up this mountain would warm me up, so would becoming a Huungardred beast, but I thought best in human form.

Fisting my hands, I increased my pace, and found the faster I moved, the more urgent my need became. I had to reach it. The idea was so profound my cry almost sounded like a howl.

Soon I was pounding up the slope, using the boughs of trees to hurl myself onward, sinking newly emerged claws into the bark, shredding strips in my wake. I kept my human form, but called on the strength of the Huungardred so I could move silent and swift.

I punched out of the blackened trees as the sun dipped low on the horizon with the flare of an ember glow. Sucking in deep breaths, I stared at the ruined castle before me, splashed with evening colors. Thick twining branches of dead creeper and mold tarnished the stone. A millennium had destroyed its walls, but enough of it remained standing for me to recognize its resemblance to Emberfell, if not for the color of its stone: bone-white stone contrasting against Emberfell's black.

The broken battlements and crenellations resembled broken teeth and the remaining towers, that once pierced the sky, now stood fractured, their tops jagged against the backdrop of the early evening stars. Archways and windows stared beyond into the distance like eye sockets in a skull. Time had stripped its glory leaving it looking forlorn and fierce upon the mountain top.

Stumbling on the castle was surprise aplenty, but the biggest shock, if not my biggest hurdle, was the creatures soaring overhead. A menagerie of everything winged and foul, second only to the nightmare.

And there was the answer to my riddle. I had to be in the Ashenlands, for surely there was no other place in the realms where such evil spawn existed.

Turning into the nightmare was out. While my pet spanned the width and length of these creatures, it was more convenient for me to either take to the air as an eagle or merge fully with my Huungardred beast and race the creatures to the entrance.

I spread my wings within seconds of releasing my human form and rose onto the wind. The gust caught my tail, lifting my feathers and pushed me forward like a slingshot. I tried to keep low to the ground, but the wind danced over the city of rubble and bobbed me about like a small boat in a ferocious sea.

I wasn't even halfway there when one beast dipped its barb tipped wing and plummeted, and I was at the mercy of the wind, which refused to blow in a straight path. Instead, I surrendered to another form, hitting the ground at a gallop, once my four pawed feet emerged.

I sought the cover of the rubble on hearing the great downward beats of leathered wings, sending a sweep of wind barreling over the top of me.

With an ear shattering shriek of fury to hackle the fur across my shoulder blades, the beast gave one sweeping downward beat and rose above the rubble, gouging shards of stone as it scraped its barbs on the tips of its wings across the columns.

I kept my head low, ducking and weaving my way through the boulders of stone, and edged my way forward with a ferocious song of furious shrieks echoing overhead. When the song became a chorus, I glanced up to see more of the creatures brethren had joined the hunt.

The entrance was nearby, but reaching it meant leaving the shelter of the rubble, where a swarm of winged beasts had already landed.

The next shriek overhead spurred them forward. They spiked the barbs on their leathery wings into the dark soil, darting their beaks outward, hoping to spear me. I craned my head back, looking up to the underbelly of the creature above.

Fine.

I soared skyward, clearing the tallest column in one leap. Then unfurled my wings, arched my head back, opened my mouth wide to swallow the creature in one gulp. A panicked frenzy broke out as the rest rushed to escape.

In this form, my mind became a tangled maze. The other creatures retreated in a chaotic flurry of torn wings while I was locked in a fierce battle against the nightmare's overwhelming instincts to hunt and fight and instead tried to focus on reaching the castle.

The urgency to rescue Tressya had cut through the internal jumble in my mind during my first transformation into the nightmare's form. However, the second time, amidst the tumult of the Ashenlands war, there was a disturbing allure in succumbing to the nightmare's dominant desires.

The temptation to surrender to the nightmare's urges was strong, yet the curious feeling that had set me on this path to climb the mountain proved the greater force. I turned from my prey and soared above the castle, tilting my head to look inside, then I folded my wings and plummeted, landing on the rubble strewn stone floor as a man.

Gnarled creepers clung to the walls like black veins, so dense in places that they likely were the only thing keeping the walls standing. Above me, the first stars peeked through the dusky blue-gray sky, and occasionally, winged beasts soared overhead, too high to pose any concern .

Inside the castle, the corridors and halls were a maze of shadows and whispers. No furnishings or tapestries remained to soften the brutality of time, or deaden the sound of crunching grit under my boots.

Now I was inside the castle, the curious feeling became a pulse in my chest, soon spreading as far as the tips of my fingers and toes. I followed the pulse as though it was a path laid out before me, weaving around the castle's decay and through empty cavernous rooms open to the dusky sky.

Before long, the pulse merged with my heartbeat, vibrating through my body and infusing my legs with a tingling energy. A surge of excitement propelled me into a run, as if an invisible map unveiled in my mind. I raced through the labyrinth of hallways and crumbling rooms, never questioning my destination.

I was close. The hum vibrated through me like fierce winds, relentlessly driving me deeper into the castle's heart, until I reached a gaping cavity in the center of a vast room. Stairs, now devoid of their banisters, spiraled down into the shadows. Peering into the depths, I tasted the stench of stagnant water and stale air on my tongue.

I was meant to descend into the darkness, where shadows danced and whispers echoed. Feeling a disaster was imminent, I leaped from where I stood, reaching the first landing, then sprinted the rest of the way down, following the spiral staircase to the cavern below.

Light came from the open cavity and a soft infusion of white flecks, like tiny stars, embedded in the rock walls. I slowly turned in a circle, seeing no other passages for me to follow. The impulse to keep moving had vanished, which had to mean I'd reached my destination, but all I saw was a desolate room.

Then, a bluish glow emanating from behind me illuminated the cavern walls, coinciding with the threading vibration in my body reaching its crescendo.

I turned to see a rock pulsing with blue light. The Etherweave. It had to be. I closed my eyes, resisting the urge to move closer, to touch it, knowing it's what the Eone wanted me to do.

Curse them. This was a test or a lesson, and I was sure it was the latter. They wanted me to touch the rock, suffer the potency of the Etherweave's magic, and understand the impossibility of wielding it alone.

I was sure the Eone rendered an existing scene within my dream rather than fabricate a fantasy, so instead of staring at the pulsing blue rock, allowing myself to fall under its mesmeric spell, I closed my eyes and tried to map out the trail I'd taken to get here. It took all my resolve to do. The ache to move closer grew more painful with each second I resisted, but I had to teach them my own lesson. My mental restraint was greater than they believed.

The prickling sensation warning me I was not alone overrode the pain in resisting the Etherweave's call. I dove left as I opened my eyes, crouched, battle ready in time to catch the dagger as it flew past. On instincts, I went for my weapons as I spun, to find none. I was still cursing the bloody Eone when I instinctively raised my arm to deflect a strike, knowing it was coming even without seeing my opponent.

Coming in low, I blocked the blow. The impact of my forearm against theirs forced them to lose their grip on their weapon. About to swipe the lost dagger mid air to claim as mine, I faltered on hearing a female voice gasp.

I jumped away in case she planned a retaliatory attack while I shook my head, then rubbed my eyes. She was invisible to me. Somehow the Eone was blinding me to a part of my dream.

Sensing the change in the air, I danced away, then turned toward the sound of the gentle tread of a soft soled boot. The longer she delayed her strike, the better she could prepare her attack, so I leaped forward, cutting into the distance between us, shortening her ability to strike with my senses alive for any sound, the eddies of air across my skin, and the innate prickling that came with proximity to another.

I sensed her next attack and threw my arms outward, catching her forearm once again, pushing her strike wide. I shot my other arm forward and ceased her throat, having judged the distance and my aim, on hearing her frustrated grunt.

‘Okay, wildling, time you stopped trying to stake me,' I snarled.

As though pulling a veil from my eyes, Tressya stood before me.

‘Tressya,' I gasped, and released my grip on her throat. Her eyes narrowed, lancing me with a glare sharper than any blade. Her lips pressed thin, cheeks flushed pink with building savagery. But as quick as I'd freed her, she found her next dagger, and launched forward, stabbing straight for my heart.

I seized her wrist, a manacle grip, forcing her to drop the dagger. She growled and hissed, thrashing like a true wildling, her eyes wide with fury.

‘Release me, beast, before I gut you.'

I did, shoving her out of reach. ‘I thought when we first met again, we'd at least talk first before we fought.'

Mercy, where did she keep all those daggers? Already she ran the hilt of another along her palm.

She snorted in derision. ‘How can I talk to a beast? You have no wits about you, no sanity in your head. You wouldn't understand a word I said.'

‘You're angry. I get it. You have every right to be. But at least let?—'

I caught her next throw. ‘That was careless. You should know better than to use me for target practice.'

Then finally I understood. This wasn't my Tressya. The Eone hadn't bothered to match their fabrication to my memories.

‘You'll pay for this,' I yelled, glancing around the room as if expecting to see the four of them observing from the shadows.

‘You've got that wrong,' Tressya intoned. ‘It's you who'll pay.'

And she charged toward me. From her clumsy attack, I would say the Eone had little understanding of how to fight. I slipped left, ducked low and snagged her around the waist, lifting her off her feet. She kicked and yelled in a language I was sure no longer existed.

‘How dare you corrupt my memories,' I shouted, trying to save my shins from her vicious kicks. ‘I won't do as you want, so you might as well give up this fantasy. '

‘You already question if you're the rightful heir to the Bone Throne,' Tressya gasped through awkward breaths.

I dumped her on the ground. Her legs weren't under her, so she landed on her ass. I paced around to stand in front of her. ‘I'll give you to the count of ten to get out of my head before I cause some harm.'

‘You are strong to resist the lure of the Etherweave, for sure. But you are not strong enough?—'

Tressya spoke with Fivia's voice. I snapped my arm forward, seizing her neck again, no longer merciful in my grip. She grabbed my wrist with both hands, but her feeble hold was pathetic.

I pulled her close. ‘Get rid of her.' I couldn't bring myself to voice Tressya's name in front of them.

‘You will fail.'

I would have shaken her a lot worse if I wasn't staring into Tressya's eyes. As it was, I was suffering from maintaining my fierce hold, especially when her eyes bulged and her face flushed red.

‘Give her up,' I yelled into Tressya's face, balancing the edge between revulsion for doing this to Tressya and fury in knowing it was Fivia, not Tressya before me—or at least her spiritual representation in the mask of Tressya's body.

Finally, her disguise faltered. The blue in her eyes blended into green. The face I'd adoringly mapped and fallen in love with became narrower and more angular. Fivia's sharp, straight nose emerged, replacing Tressya's small, snub nose.

‘We do this for you, Tamas. '

I released her, pushing her by her throat and sending her onto her back. She rose to her elbows.

‘I warned you the first time not to meddle in my mind. This was the last time you'll get that chance.'

She shook her head. ‘You are but an infant in our eyes.'

‘An infant heir to the Etherweave. Remember that. It's what you want after all, isn't it? A way to reclaim the Etherweave.'

Slowly Fivia pushed herself up to sitting. ‘Do not praise yourself so highly, young Razohan, for you are not the only one.'

I jerked at the truth of what she'd said.

I launched on top of her, forcing her to the stone floor, a clawed hand at her neck, another clawed hand posed over her chest to rip out her heart. I didn't realize I was snarling until a drip of my saliva hit her upper lip.

‘Underestimating us is your biggest mistake.'

‘Likewise, bitch.'

‘The door has begun to open. What is set in motion shall never be undone. We are growing stronger.'

She disappeared from under me. My hand, only moments ago holding Fivia in a choke hold, collapsed to the bed as I fell forward to my knees.

I was back in my room, and rather than waking up from a dream, I'd been an active participant. I slammed a fist into the mattress as I shouted in frustration, then leaped off the bed, spearing my hands through my hair. I now had one more pressing concern. Tressya.

They knew she was a bloodborn. I'd exposed her to the fragment of Etherweave. Did that mean they now had an entrance into her dreams?

Osmud burst into my bedroom, not bothering to knock, while I was pacing back and forth and sunk down onto my bed.

"What do you want?" I had little patience at the moment for his smart tongue.

"Good afternoon to you, too."

"What?" I stomped to the window to see the sun high in the sky. I never slept late. Never.

"Your presence is required in the main hall."

I rested my hands behind my head and arched my head back, straightening out the kinks in my back. "Who is it?"

"And have you slip out the back door? You best come look for yourself."

"I'm not in the mood for an audience. I've got some things to think about."

"You can think about those when you're lying in your bed tonight. Day time is not for dreaming."

Too right it wasn't. It was unsettling to think the Eone could keep me trapped in my dreams.

"Where's Romelda?"

"Now you want to get friendly with the Nazeen?"

"I need her counsel."

"She's unlikely willing to give you any since you've proved fatheaded so far."

I spun to face him. "Is there anyone in the hall, or are you here to irritate me?"

"Both. More so to irritate you, but you have an audience."

Edging through the knot of tension holding my muscles taunt, I felt the first stirrings of a smile. Thanks to him and Garrat, I stayed sane. Most of the time.

"I need to head south." Tressya was my first thought. She was astute enough to not fall for the Eone's lies, but… after the dream, I felt desperate to see her again. I needed to ask her forgiveness and tell her the truth of everything.

"Figured you'd say that sooner rather than later." He rose from the bed. "I'll just go pack a few things."

"You're not coming."

Osmud clamped a hand on my shoulder. "Sure I am." And headed for my door.

"It's personal this time."

He continued striding for the door, speaking over his shoulder. "You're the Razohan leader, heir to the Bone Throne. Nothing's personal."

I heaved a sigh. "Am I going to have to stab you in the shoulder so you can't fly?"

"Just get your ass to the main hall." Before he disappeared out the door, he stopped, glancing over his shoulder at my naked cock. "Since you're sorely lacking, you might want to put clothes on. There's ladies present, and I wouldn't want rumors to spread." Then he added. "Just thinking of your reputation. Though, I don't know why, since you pissed it away on the disciple when you bit her."

The Etherweave was in the Ashenlands, something I'd assumed long before the dream. But the Ashenlands were a produce of the Salmun's twisted magic, meaning the ruined castle could be anywhere within a place that no longer followed the boundaries of reality.

It was time I focused on the Senjel Oracles.