Read Online The Dreamer Stones by Elaina J Davidson - Free Book Online Page B

and again until there was nothing
left.
    He
straightened. “I think I hate you for this.”
    She swallowed.
“Fine. I’m a big girl now.”
    Torrullin
started to laugh. “Oh, indeed, you are all grown up! And you’re a
stranger to me!”
    She raised her
chin. “I am who I always was. You convinced me of the connection,
remember?”
    “Lowen, I
wonder if you understand the true nature of the connection. ”
    She swallowed
again. “I do.”
    He stared at
her, but heading in that direction was not wise. “You could have
warned me this would happen.”
    “And what
would you have done differently?”
    “I was never
afraid of those animals that put me in a cage.”
    “You put
yourself in a cage, and now you proved you’re ready to break out
and did. The faceless fear is you. Now you go on and face what you
fear.”
    Snapping his
fingers he brought forth a canteen of water, proceeded to rinse his
mouth, and then drank deeply. All the while his unreadable gaze was
on her. Lowering the bottle, he offered it. She shook her head.
“Suit yourself.” He closed it and, holding it in one hand, started
to walk away from her.
    “You’re going
the wrong way.”
    He stopped and
turned. “Then lead the way, my fine immortal seer.”
    She approached
and put a hand up …
    He stepped
aside. “Do not touch me.”
    She breathed
hard. “Are you afraid of my touch, Enchanter?”
    “Now I am.
Which way?”
    All directions
were identical, but she pointed at a right angle to the way he
went. He walked past her and she followed.
    “What’s next?
The race across the Plains of Medinor? Why has it a name?”
    “It’s a
parallel. Some place you saw sometime and used as an image.”
    Silence. Then,
“So what’s next?”
    “The
Hounding.”
    Ahead, she
heard him laugh in total disgust.
     
     
    After, he
could not tell how long they wandered across the desert plain.
    A day, a year,
an eternity. There was no night, just one continual day, and the
plain was endless. A dun coloured nothingness. In the distance
mirages shimmered, a product of extreme heat. It was eerily silent
but for the faraway cry of a hunting eagle, or an alert
vulture.
    They walked,
plodding tiredly, for uncountable hours, and with every step
Torrullin expected the faceless horsemen to ride him down, or the
pounding of approaching hooves to sound behind them.
    There was
nothing and he found that worse. Waiting for something to happen
was infinitely worse.
    Stopping often
to eat and rest, a number of times they fell asleep where they sat.
Real rest it was not, for the sun burned through closed lids. Lowen
stopped talking and he was relieved.
    Silence,
waiting, and boredom eroded complacency, if ever there was any. It
certainly felt like there was once a sense of acceptance, but it
was no longer present.
    Hours after
their last stop, Torrullin turned to snarl at Lowen, and then said
not a word. She swayed, her eyes rolling backward.
    He returned to
her and then was forced to hold her back as she continued walking
past him unaware of her surroundings.
    “Lowen, it’s
time to rest.”
    “Must go on or
will surrender to the pain,” she mumbled, but her head sank to her
chest and her knees buckled.
    He caught her
and helped her sit. Using his mind he created a shady pavilion and
a soft mattress to absorb her exhausted form. Lifting her to it, he
laid her down - she was instantly asleep, deep and away.
    Sitting at the
edge, he looked down at her. He was a real idiot to not notice how
she hurt. Which pain had she referred to?
    Thirst,
exhaustion … ah, feet.
    His feet were
killing him; hers had to be far worse. How could he be so selfish?
He drew her stout boots off. Dear god, angry welts, white, watery
blisters, purple flesh, clammy and wrinkled. How long since she
wore boots, let alone walked far in terrible heat? He was an
unfeeling bastard, but there was no bloody need for martyrdom
either.
    With a gentle
touch - she flinched in her sleep - he laid his hands to