Read Online Possessing the Grimstone by John Grover - Free Book Online Page B

with briar nut jam. His brother, Tal, was absent from the table, still sleeping in his bed. He’d always been a late sleeper, missing most of the morning meals. Not Pim. He had been awake most of the night, bubbling with the excitement of his new achievements. He was bursting at the seams to tell them all about it, but he dared not. For now, he enjoyed toast, porridge, juice, and chicory tea.
    He caught a glimpse of the sky outside. Dark clouds stirred across it, swallowing the sun. He’d never seen anything like it. The sky looked menacing, as if at any moment, it would unleash something terrible over Gonnish.
    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