Part of the mountain range bordered on the goblin lands. My heart sank. What if Jeremiah’s dreamself was in goblin country? “I don’t know where he is,” I said. “He could be anywhere.”
Fan’twar peered at me with his glowing, amber eyes. “Do you remember anything else from the dream? Any clue to his location?”
I closed my eyes, trying to focus, to remember. We’d been on an open plain, I remembered that, and the mountains were in the distance. And the stones. I remembered the stones surrounding us, similar to the ruins of Stonehenge. “Stones,” I said. “Ancient things, like remnants of an old civilization. Is there anywhere near the mountains where a place like that exists?”
“The old Vikings,” Fan’twar answered. “When they first arrived here from the Brimlake, they built a temple. Only its ruins remain.”
“Do you think that’s what I saw?”
“Perhaps.”
I stared at the map. Fan’twar pointed to a narrow strip of the Wultlands bordering the goblin lands. He indicated the mouth of a bay. “This is where the Vikings first entered almost fourteen hundred years ago. Their temple should be someplace nearby.”
“Are there any other places like that?”
“To my knowledge, this was the only temple near the mountains. Shortly after their arrival, they moved closer to the elves to begin pillaging.”
“But the place was deserted. I didn’t see any Wults nearby.”
“There wouldn’t have been. The Wults consider the place cursed. They believe it to be haunted by evil skull-faced spirits called the Regaymor.”
“Skull-faced?” Like Charon?
He nodded.
“Then that must be the place where I saw Jeremiah’s dreamself. Can you take me there?”
Fan’twar hesitated. “The ancient ruins are not a place I am welcomed. The Wults allow no one there.”
“No one?”
“They will kill anyone who travels to the ancient temple, believing them to be tainted by the Regaymor’s spirit.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to sneak in.”
“No, there are better ways. You must obtain King Herrick’s permission.”
I rubbed the tense muscles in my neck. I’d never dealt with the Wults for one reason—they were impossible to deal with. “But would he agree to let me go? I thought you said they’d kill anyone who goes there.”
“Wults aren’t keen on keeping order. Finding a way around their laws shouldn’t be difficult. But you must take care, Olive. The ancient ruins are dangerous. And I fear that whatever is happening may be worse than we understand.”
I still couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to harm Jeremiah. Most creatures of Faythander avoided crossing over to Earth. Once they returned, their memories of Earth would be erased, just as those crossing from the other direction. If the worshippers of Theht had returned, why would they risk losing their memories to kidnap Jeremiah’s mind? I knew the only way to find answers would be to go to the source of the trouble.
Fan’twar’s golden scales gleamed in the crystals’ light as he crawled off the dais. “The Wult king and his court are much closer than you realize. They are in the elf kingdom, preparing for the marriage of their prince. I shall fly you to them if you wish.”
I hesitated before climbing onto Fan’twar’s back. The Wult prince was famous, or infamous, depending on how you looked at it. He had a sort of Chuck Norris reputation. The guy had killed at least one of every species of beast in Faythander and had a castle full of stuffed carcasses to prove it. He was the only known being to kill a jagamoor and survive. With his bare hands. While he was tied up. He’d only spilled his own blood once, and from it grew the dragons’ forest. When the queen of the fairies had gotten sick, the fairy court sought the prince’s tears for the cure. Unfortunately, no being could make him cry.
Okay, maybe the last couple things I made up.
“The Wult prince is getting married?”
“Yes, to Princess Euralysia.”
I almost choked. “The elf princess?” Wults and elves didn’t mix. I couldn’t believe they were actually getting married. I guess more had changed in twelve years than I’d realized.
Dreamthief Page 11