The Promised Ones [The Wells End Chronicles Book 1] Read online

  One of the beasts, the one on the left, barked at him as he raised his voice, so he tried again, speaking more softly, “Charity.”

  “Ohhhh. Adam? That you? Where are we? Where's the storyteller?”

  The beast on the floor of the cave continued to writhe back and forth. The sound of its groans faded into whimpers, and yet, the other two still ignored its distress.

  Adam tried to make out Charity in the dim light. Her voice seemed to come from a patch of darkness behind and to the left of the two beasts remaining standing. “Charity. Wave your hand. I can't see where you are.”

  “Here I am. Over here. See me?” A shape moved in the darkness where he thought her voice was coming from.

  “Ok. I see you. You ok?”

  The beast standing closest to Charity moved before she could answer, and picked her up by the back of her burlap shift. She screamed as she was lifted into the air.

  “Hey!” Adam moved without thinking of the size of his opponent, and found himself batted back against the wall of the cave he woke up against. His head swam, and lights danced before his eyes.

  Whumpp! “Oooofff!” Charity landed beside him. Apparently, their captors felt it was ok to talk to each other, just not too loudly.

  “You ok?” Adam repeated his question, this time in a whisper.

  “Yeah, I guess. What are those things?” Charity nodded her head at the two Ogren standing before them. “Why did they take us?”

  “I don't know. All I've got are questions, and no answers.”

  “Adam, I'm scared.” Charity pulled herself against her brother's arm.

  “Me, too, Charity. Me, too.”

  * * * *

  The Dwarf peered over the outcropping into the cavern mouth below his ledge. As Galtru had said, the human children were within sight of the boundaries of Dwillkillion. They sat below his vantage point at a depth of about four ax lengths, and there were three Ogren guarding them, though one of them appeared to be suffering from a stomach ailment of some kind. That is, unless the children were made of sterner stuff than they appeared ... He looked more closely and nodded, grunting to himself in satisfaction.

  One of the Ogren barked a question at their captives, asking if they wished to be fed. Apparently the beasts were under orders to deliver them alive and in good health. Better and better. This gave them a few hours to plan and prepare. If these were the children of the prophecy, it would not do well to have them die while being rescued.

  Another bark. Ogren were not patient. If the children didn't understand they were being spoken to, there was every chance the beast doing the asking would simply throw them a piece of carrion, and then ignore them until nightfall.

  He pulled back from the ledge, and silently made his way back into the passages carved into the living rock by his ancestors in ages past. What he had seen needed to be passed on. Once he got into a main branch, he was able to pick up speed. A couple of more hours at a brisk jog would take him back to where Galtru and the others waited.

  Other Dwarves nodded at him as he passed them by, but no words were spoken in greeting. A running Dwarf is not to be distracted, period.

  By the time his internal clock read mid-morning, he was broaching the outskirts of Dwillkillion. Those of his folk in the passages who saw him stepped aside to allow him room to pass. A couple of times he had to step to the side, himself, to give way to another messenger en route the opposite direction.

  Half an hour later he was in the great cavern, and had to slow his progress due to the number of Dwarf folk out and about. The noise of their voices filled the immense space, along with the background sound of the numerous waterfalls that emptied into the black lake below.

  Dozens of narrow bridges crisscrossed back and forth within Dwillkillion's expanse, some of them, nearly a mile across, bridged the widest parts of the cavern. The one he chose was comparatively short, only a dozen or so yards long. Galtru's rooms faced the interior of the cavern several doors over to the right from where the bridge met the wall.

  The senior Dwarf was pacing back and forth in the front room when the messenger came in. He looked up at the entrance and stopped, facing the runner with his hands clasped behind his back. “Report. How many?”

  “Three, one slightly injured. They hide in the cave above the shallow lake.”

  “The scions?”

  “Twins, whole, the boy appears to be wearing the amulet.”

  Galtru's eyebrows shot up. “So? Then it begins.”

  “It begins.” The messenger repeated and turned to leave. He paused, and then turned back to face the older Dwarf.

  “You wish something.” Galtru made it a statement rather than a question.

  “Yes.” The reply came out slowly.

  “What is it, Knurl?”

  “The human children ... They are the promise. Are they not?”

  Galtru shook his head. “Too early to tell. Being of the blood and being the promise are different things. If the boy does wear the amulet, that is one thing in their favor. That they share the same egg is another, but there are more signs to be fulfilled. Time will tell, young Knurl. You can be sure of that. First, we must deal with the Ogren.”

  Knurl's grin was anything but friendly.

  * * * *

  Because of the Ogren's obvious intent to do them no real harm, Adam and Charity found themselves drifting off to sleep in snatches of drowsiness that brought no rest at all. The food, if it could be called that, thrown at them by their captors consisted of bits of rancid flesh clinging to bones that looked greenish in the dim light. When they refused to eat it, the beast offering it to them added the bones to its own meal.

  The one Adam had kicked in the privates recovered eventually from the experience, but it kept a wide berth between itself and the boy's feet.

  On occasion, one of the party would duck outside the cave, and then return a minute or so later. Charity thought that they were checking the time by looking at the sun. On one of those times, two of the beasts left the cave, and the one remaining appeared to be slumbering.

  She nudged Adam in the side with an elbow. “Hsst. Adam.” She whispered into his ear while keeping an eye on their lone captor.

  “Mmmpphh? Huh? What is it?” Adam jerked out of his doze with a start.

  “There's only one of them in here now, and it's not paying attention. Let's sneak away.” Charity tugged lightly at the sleeve of his burlap tunic.

  “Where to? The others are probably right outside. They'd grab us as quick as a meal if we tried sneaking past ‘em.” Adam whispered back.

  “What about further back into the cave?” Charity nodded her head in that direction.

  “Is there anywhere to go, further back? What if those things lose their tempers? I don't want to be their next snack.” Adam snuck a look at the Ogren across the cave from them. Its chin rested on the broad chest as it snored softly.

  “Well, I think it's worth a try, at least. We couldn't be any worse off than we are now.” Charity tugged at her brother's arm. “Let's go now, while we have a chance.”

  Adam leaned into the direction of the tug, and followed his sister back into the cave. The dozing Ogren snorted once, nearly scaring the water out of both of them, and then subsided.

  “That was close.” Adam eased out as he caught his breath.

  They worked their way further back into the recesses of the cave where the shadows deepened from dusk gray into midnight black, just as the other two Ogren came back in.

  Charity stifled a shriek, but even that small sound reached the beasts’ sensitive ears, and they swiveled to face the twins location, barking out a series of sounds that sounded like they meant, “Stop! City watch!”

  At the others’ call the third member of the Ogren party woke with a start and bounded upright sniffing the air in alarm. Something above caught its attention, and it sniffed again. The yellow-irised eye widened, and it cried out to the other two, but by then it was too late. The cave became filled with Dwarves
bristling with sharp-edged weaponry.

  Adam and Charity were grabbed by Dwarves, and pulled further into the cave depths. Charity shrieked, and Adam cried out, striking at the ones who held them, trying to break free, but the grip of the Dwarves equaled the Ogren in power, even though the little folk only stood knee high to the beasts in height.

  To the twins, the next few moments became a blur of disorientation. They were transferred from Dwarf to Dwarf as the folk of the caverns placed them further from the scene of battle. One Dwarf pushed first Adam, and then his sister, into a recess next to a small waterfall. An unpleasant sharpness tinted the mossy smell of the air, like old powdered stone.

  Charity clung to her brother as she tried vainly to see through the gloom. She could hear the sounds of battle, with the harsh cries of the Dwarves mixing with the barking growls of the Ogren. Whoever had shoved them into the darkness now seemed to be leaving them alone. Her stomach churned as she fought to keep the panic from overtaking her. She hoped she wasn't going to sick up. That would be just too embarrassing on top of everything else.

  “Adam.” She tried to keep her teeth from chattering as she spoke his name.

  “I'm here.” He patted her shoulder.

  A whack on the arm was his reward. “Hey! That hurt.”

  “It should have. I know you're there, lummox. I just wanted your attention.”

  “Ok, you've got it.”

  A long gurgling scream cut through the blackness. The twins tightened their grip on each other reflexively, and stepped back into nothingness.

  * * * *

  Gilgafed watched the butchering of his Ogren in helpless fury. Damn those interfering Dwarves. He should have expended more energy during the magik war, and wiped the last of the miserable little things from the face of the world when he had the backing and the power to do so. Years of planning and preparation, whole hogsheads of blood, and weeks at a time spent in sleepless toil to find the skrudding brats, and now it was all for nothing.

  The scry shifted its focus from the lopsided battle and the sea of iron helms to ... blackness.

  “What is this?” He tapped the ornate frame that held the glass. “Reveal them to me. Now!”

  The glass remained black, and then it shattered, as the sorcerer's fist smashed into the middle of the inky surface.

  “Cobain!” He held his lacerated knuckles to his mouth. “Cobain! Where are you, you worthless piece of offal? If you don't show that horrid little face of yours in the next few ... Ah, there you are. Get over here, now!”

  “You called, my mas ... Master! Your hand! Here, let me tend it for you!” Gilgafed's servant pulled a towel from his belt, and rushed to the sorcerer's side, attempting to staunch the bleeding.

  He was rudely pushed away for his trouble. “Leave it! I can fend for myself. Give me that towel!” Gilgafed ripped the other end of the towel from Cobain's hand. “Bring me another scryglass, and Bardoc help you if you're not here within the non.”

  Cobain swallowed, his large Adams apple bobbing with the motion. “Yes ma ... master. Right away, master. I'm going now, master.” He bolted from the chamber, nearly stumbling in his haste.

  Gilgafed turned back to look at the ruin his fist had made of the scryglass. As he bent to pick up the pieces, his mind turned over the problem of the twins. Perhaps he needn't have to see them to deal with the problem they represented. Maybe one of the wyrms ... yes ... One of the wyrms would do nicely.

  “Cobain!”

  * * * *

  Under the Sorcerer's prodding, the Fire Wyrm woke from its long sleep, hungry and cranky. It took only a small portion of the power to send it in the right direction. Satisfied, Gilgafed ended the scry, causing the glass to become an ordinary mirror again. Pouring a goblet of blood red wine, he settled into his chair, and sipped. Perhaps dinner should be brought early; one might as well eat along with one's scaly friend.

  * * * *

  The ground fell away beneath Adam, and then he was in water. Its icy chill shocked him, and he took some in with a breath. He clawed his way back to the surface, choking and gasping, just in time to get most of the splash from Charity. A ledge of rock lay before him, and he reached for it in desperation, not realizing at the time that he could see.

  Out of the water, he looked wildly around for Charity, calling her name. She answered behind him. Spinning around, he saw her climb onto the ledge, spitting water and shivering.

  “Where are we? What is this place?” Charity hugged herself, her teeth chattering with the cold.

  “It looks like one of the caves Uncle Bal used to tell us about, but he never told any stories about them having glowing walls.” Adam walked over to a stalagmite that topped him by a good foot or more. The surface of it was coated with lichen that gave off a blue-green glow. The overall effect was like being under deep water, and still able to breathe. He had no idea where he and Charity were, and no idea how to begin to find out.

  A sound came out of the background, causing the short hairs on the back of Adam's neck to stand up. “Charity, do you hear that?”

  “Hear what? Water dripping?”

  “Shh. Listen.”

  Charity listened. She heard the sound of dripping water, but that was a continuous background noise in the cavern. Behind that ... there was a faint hissing. Her gut tightened, and a nameless dread filled her heart. That sound ... She turned in the direction it came from, and her breath caught in her throat. A monster out of nightmare towered over them. The hissing came from its mouth, which gaped open, showing multiple rows of needle teeth. Frothing slime dripped from the mouth, and added its own hiss as it struck the water. The monster's breath smelled of sulfur and something worse.

  Adam was rooted in place like a mouse facing a snake. His feet would not obey his commands to run. The thing rose above him, its head at least the size of a large calf. Tendrils writhing like eels grew out of its cheeks behind a growth at the end of the jaw, curved like a knife. The long neck was segmented with armor-like plates topped and winged with more of the blades; One set of three for each segment. Its huge glowing eyes fixed on them as it reared back, swaying.

  The head reached forward, jaws distended, ready to engulf its prey, and Adam knew he was about to be eaten. A blow to his side shocked him out of his paralysis as he heard the monster's jaws click shut.

  Charity helped him to his feet. Her tackle had knocked him aside, causing the strike to miss. “Come on, Adam. Run!”

  He ran, keeping pace with his sister. Fear lent wings to their feet, and terror gave them stamina. They reached a passage too small for their pursuer to enter, and ducked into it. The Wyrm's scream of frustration echoed off the cavern walls around them.

  * * * *

  Charity's side hurt, and her lungs burned. Her toes hit a rock, and she stumbled, catching herself on an outcropping to avoid landing on the rocky floor. She called out to Adam. “Wait.”

  He slowed and stopped, then turned and came back to her. “You OK?” He knelt down to help her up.

  The tears began, and she sobbed. “No, I'm not OK. That dreadful thing is back there, you almost got eaten by it, and we're lost, and we'll never see Aunt Doreen and Uncle Bal again, and I want to go home!” The last came out in a wail as she buried her face into Adam's tunic.

  He didn't know what to do. Fighting for Charity's honor was one thing, but this!? Charity had cried before, especially after some of Darzin's more vicious teasing, but he still had no idea how to deal with a crying girl, and no adult was around to help make things better. So Adam did what he could, and just held onto her while she cried.

  The sobs continued on for a considerable time while Charity cried out her grief and fear. Adam held her, and tried to think of something to do to make his twin feel better. Eventually the sobbing slowed, and then came to a stop. He unwrapped Charity's arms from his neck, and leaned back to look into her eyes. “Are you OK now? Can we go on?”

  Charity sniffed, “I'm OK.” She stood up. “Let's go.” They ha
d no planned direction in mind. She just wanted to put as much distance as possible between them and that thing in the pool.

  A smaller branching of the cavern opened off to their left. Its interior was bathed in darkness, but a glow at its far end showed more of the light-producing lichen. Charity ducked her head, and crawled through, with Adam close behind.

  Charity exited the narrow tunnel, and stood up. This cavern was a little brighter than the one with the pool. The lichen glowed yellow-white giving their skin the look of a man dying from too much drink. The ceiling arched far above, and bore the weight of scores of stalactites, some of them extending to meet their mate rising from the floor.

  “Adam. Look over there.” Where Charity pointed, an even brighter patch of light reflected off the cavern wall. Its sourcewas hidden behind a limestone pillar that joined ceiling to floor.

  Her twin looked at it suspiciously. Once burned ... He strained his ears, but could hear nothing. Charity was moving toward the pillar, so he quickened his steps to catch up, trying to avoid the miniature points that littered the cavern floor. He caught up with her as she peered around the pillar.

  “Oh, Adam. It's beautiful.”

  His gasp said he agreed. They looked upon a wonder and a treasure beyond all dreams of avarice. Stretched out before them lay an Emerald geode easily twice the height of a tall man. The deep green crystals ranged in size from a finger to over a span across. Initially, the glare seemed blinding, but it soon became bearable as their eyes readjusted from the dimness of the caverns. A spot of bright blue from the geode's ceiling explained the reason for the light; they were looking at sky.

  “If we could get up there, we could get out.” Adam pointed at the patch of blue.

  Charity looked where he pointed, and shook her head. “If. Problem is, we can't fly.”

  Adam sighed. “Yeah.” He looked around the floor of the geode to see if there were any loose crystals. He found a few tucked into the join of two of the larger ones, and pulled them out one by one, carefully avoiding the sharp edges on either side.

  He held one of them up into the light. Its length matched his little finger. One of the jewels could probably purchase the butcher's shop where Uncle Bal worked, and all the meat within it, and he held three of them in his hands.