Sixteen
“Drop it.” I tried to keep my voice level.
Kull stared at the dream catcher, then let it fall to the floor. It landed with a soft thump. “What is it?” he asked.
I used the hem of my cloak to pick it up. My breath caught in my throat. The dark magic flowing from the loom felt palpable, as if it were drawing the breath from my lungs. Whoever had created the spell had been a powerful practitioner.
“Where did you find this?” I asked.
He rubbed his temples. “I don’t remember. I was walking toward that tomb. I saw something….” He shook his head.
I looked at the tomb he’d pointed to. Like the others, the runes inscribed in the stone had been scratched out, although the scarring on this tomb looked deeper, as if someone had used a pickaxe to completely remove the name.
“Do you remember anything else?”
“A dream. Very strange.” Firelight cast his face in bronze. “A dream I had as a child. I saw my sister. And a goblin. He took her.” He looked away.
My stomach squirmed. I’d heard the stories of what goblins did to women, to children. Kull’s worst childhood fear had come back to haunt him, just as Charon had come back for me, and the dog in Jeremiah’s dream. These were our greatest fears come to life.
“Kull, I know this isn’t easy, but do you remember anything else?”
He paused before speaking. His eyes looked distant, as if he remembered something from long ago. “The goblin said that my sister belonged to him. He would twist her soul. Make her evil like him. And then he said there would be nothing I could do to stop him. I’d forgotten the dream until now.”
Even with my cloak covering the dream catcher, I felt its power licking at my fingers.
“What sort of magic recreates nightmares?” he asked me.
“I don’t know.” If I’d dared to touch the woven loom, I could possibly detect the spell and recognize the spellcaster. But I had safer ways of discovering its secrets. I’d just have to get back to Earth to do it.
Kull rubbed his eyes as if trying to erase the images of the nightmare. “Do you think whoever has your godson is using such a spell on him?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“Who would do such a thing to a child?”
I shook my head. “Someone desperate.”
“Or evil.”
Kull glanced at the tomb with the gouged-out runes. “I remember finding the loom near that tomb.”
We walked toward the tomb when my toe stubbed something. I glanced down to see a heap of chains. Holding the torch close, I knelt, inspecting the chains.
“You found something?” Kull asked, kneeling beside me.
“Yes, I think so.” The chains looked like something I could’ve purchased in a hardware store from Earth, which seemed odd given our current location. Kull held the torch as I picked them up. A pair of manacles dangled from the bottom.
Small manacles, the size that would fit around a child’s wrists.
My heart dropped.
“My godson was down here,” I said.
“It appears so.” Kull fingered the manacles. “But where is he now?”
The metal loops clanked as I placed them back where I’d found them. I stood, searching the area. Kull did the same, though we found no further evidence of my godson’s existence in the tombs.
“Your godson’s presence here must have something to do with these tombs. His captors must have brought him down here for a reason. Perhaps if we learn that, we’ll understand where he is now,” Kull said, once again returning to the tomb where he had found the dream catcher. He handed the torch back to me.
I held the light close to the vault. The torchlight illuminated the hole where the runes had been. Images of hunched-over humans with fearful faces had been carved below the gouged names.
“Any idea who was buried here?” I asked.
“Whoever it was, someone went to great trouble to erase their identity.”
“A disgraced member of the Mog family, perhaps?”
“Perhaps. Look at these carvings; they aren’t like the others.” He pointed at the engraved humanoid forms.
“Disfigured humans. Who would carve such a thing into their loved one’s burial site?”
“No, not humans.” He took the torch from me. With the light closer to the carvings, I recognized the images for what they really were. The hollow eye sockets, the sunken cheeks, the incisors too large and pointed like fangs, and the thin, forked tongues snaking from parted lips.
I took a step back. “Goblins.”
Kull knit his brow in confusion.
“Your people hate goblins. Why would they carve this?”
“I don’t understand. It makes no sense. Unless…”
“Unless what?”
The fire sputtered. “I do not understand it. Look here.” He pointed above us, where the image of a Viking ship had been carved. A crowd of people filled the ship’s deck, but on the shore stood a goblin. Kull shook his head. “This makes little sense.”
I looked from the carving to the gouged-out names. The answer lay right before us. “Kull, who’s buried in these tombs?”
“The Mog family—I’ve already told you.”
“Are you certain?”
The firelight reflected the fear in his eyes. “What are you suggesting?”
I nodded at the tomb. “We need to look inside.”
“That would be a waste of our time. The remains would be too decayed to identify.”
“But someone went to great trouble to etch the names off. They wanted the identity of whoever lay in these tombs to remain hidden.”
He worked his jaw back and forth as if debating what to do. “I suppose you are right. Take this while I remove the lid.” I took the torch from him.
He maneuvered the coffin out of the hollowed rock far enough to tip it from the alcove. With a grating of stone against stone, he leveraged it onto the ground. We knelt beside it as a cloud of dust billowed. Kull slid the lid aside.
A black shroud lay atop the corpse. I held the torchlight close to get a better look. With careful hands, Kull removed the covering. Under the torch’s flame, what remained of the skull came into view. Yellowed fangs curved from the skull’s upper jaw. Small bits of frayed, black thread wound around the corpse’s incisors, keeping the mouth tightly shut.
I took a step back.
Kull cursed. “Goblins.”
“Why are goblins buried in the Wult tombs?”
He shook his head. “And why the black thread?”
“Perhaps someone wanted to keep the corpse’s identity a secret. The black thread would have kept the fangs hidden until the lips decomposed.”
“If it is true, if the goblins have taken the tombs, then we must leave. They may have already ambushed my sister,” Kull said. “We must make haste.”
We raced out of the tunnel. The caverns blurred past. Blood hammered my eardrums as I focused on the next turn, the next corridor. The hallways seemed immeasurably longer than I remembered.
My lungs screamed for air as we reached the ladder, though with the added adrenaline, my pain disappeared as we climbed.
Sunlight pierced my eyes as we climbed higher. I grabbed the top rung and pulled myself out of the opening. Icy wind stung my cheeks. Kull stood next to me, scanning the area with the look of a predator.
A cloud of gray mist shrouded the courtyard. The silence pressed against my eardrums. As I took a step forward, my footfalls made no sound over the ice-packed earth. Smoky fog twisted around the stone pillars. Magic tingled in the mist as it touched my skin.
Kull took a step forward, and I stopped him. “It might be a spell,” I said. “The mist is hiding something. Be careful.”
He pulled his sword free, though I doubted it would be any help against magic like this. “Heidel?” he called. The mist muffled his voice.
Sounds of shuffling feet echoed behind the pillar across from us. We walked quietly toward it. I wanted to use my m
agic, but I sensed that doing so would only draw our intruders closer.
As we neared the pillar, a gory scene came into view. A goblin’s head lay on the ground, its brains oozing from the split-open skull. The thing’s eyes had been gouged out, and the empty sockets stared at the coiling mist of gray fog. The lips had been torn away, or perhaps cut off, revealing rows of serrated fangs.
Kull’s jaw tightened as he poked the skull. He lifted a torn strip of hide from the beast’s forehead. Grayish brain matter seeped from the broken skull. “This was a deliberate act, meant to send us a message. They want us to come after them.”
“But who? And who would’ve known we would be here?”
The Dreamthief knew. This was feeling more like a trap than a rescue mission.
I stepped around the blood to reach the other side of the stone column.
Something moved. In the haze I couldn’t see much, a bit of gray-colored leg, a hunched over body. Sounds of clicking came from somewhere.
I spun around but saw nothing but mist. It crowded around me, closing in, squeezing air from my lungs.
“Olive?” Kull’s voice drifted through the fog.
“Over here.”
The blade of his sword cut through mist as he made his way toward me. “I found a trail of blood back there. Not much, but it might lead to whoever’s out there. If they’ve harmed my sister, they’ll regret it.” He peered around the ruins like a hawk searching for prey.
I followed him to the trail of blood. Tiny droplets marred the ice-white snow. The path of blood led away from the ruins and toward the mountains. Toward the goblin lands.
“Goblins,” I said. “I think I saw one back there. They’ve desecrated the tombs. Now they’ve taken your sister.”
“But why? Goblins have never challenged us before.”
I feared the answer to his question. If the goblins awoke Theht, what would happen to my godson?
A hiss echoed behind us. First, a low moan, and then dozens of voices joined in. I spun around but saw nothing.
“Show yourselves,” Kull shouted.
The hisses grew into a wail. Kull’s grip tightened on his sword. My magic itched to be set free. I flexed my fingers. With the dream catcher in my pocket, I wasn’t sure magic would be my best weapon. The dark magic could mingle with my own, creating a disaster I dared not contemplate. I grabbed my knife instead. Magic would be my last option.
“Aim for the neck,” Kull whispered, “Their hides are too thick to stab anywhere else.”
I nodded, wishing I’d trained more in combat and less in magic. I felt as though I were fighting with a blindfold over my eyes.
“Their skin excretions are acidic. Don’t touch them directly unless you want your fingers burned off.”
Right. Aim for the neck. Don’t touch the skin. What lovely creatures we’ve stumbled on.
A muffled human voice joined the wails. “Help!”
“Heidel?” Kull called out.
I took deep, steady breaths, but it didn’t help my shaking hands.
A pair of milky white eyes came into view. In the mist, the goblin’s body looked ghostly and translucent, pale gray against mist of the same color. Sinewy muscles corded its hunched frame. Had it been standing tall, it would’ve been a head taller than Kull. Its black, snakelike tongue flicked from its mouth.
A tart stench pierced through the air like vinegar and rotting eggs. Fear threatened to overwhelm me as more goblins appeared from the mist.
“Heidel,” Kull called. “Where are you?”
“I’m here.”
His chest rose and fell.
Dozens of forms emerged. I tried to swallow my fear, though I felt death nearer than ever before, as if Charon waited among the crowd of goblin warriors.
The creatures gathered like a plague of locusts, swarming in a mass of stinking bodies and leathery skin. A goblin lunged at Kull, teeth bared, and Kull spun his broadsword. The blade connected with precision. In a blink, the goblin’s head fell to the ground with a thud.
I’d never seen a person move so fast. He’d described himself as a killer. Now I knew why.
His fight became a dance of death. I didn’t think it possible that someone so muscled could move with such grace. Kull’s sword blended into his body like an extension of his arm. More bodies than I could count fell around him. I stood with my knife ready, but none of the goblins had a chance to attack me.
I’d started to think of Kull as human, had started to think the legends about him were bogus. Now I wondered if I knew him at all. This surely wasn’t the same person I’d traveled here with.
Sounds of ripping skin and sputtering blood filled my ears. A goblin broke away from the rest. Dark blood covered his torso, and he loped toward me with jerky movements. His milky white eyes seemed unfocused as he leapt for me.
Sinking my dagger into his neck seemed an easy job, though as I stabbed at him, his tongue flicked along my exposed wrist. Fire burned my skin, and I dropped my dagger as red blisters formed along my wrist. My flesh blackened as the acid sank deeper. I pushed the pain away as best as I could as the goblin lunged for me again.
I grabbed my dagger and stumbled back.
Skin hung in tattered flaps from its neck where I’d cut it. I thrust my knife at the exposed wound, but the creature darted back.
Kull made this look so easy. I couldn’t even bring down a wounded one.
I gripped my knife’s hilt. I can do this.
The goblin lunged again.
I let him come. At the last second, I sidestepped back, then dove for his neck and sank my knife deep into his exposed muscles. Warm blood gushed from the wound. I pushed the knife deeper until I felt it connect with bone.
The goblin fell with a gut-wrenching scream, writhing at my feet. I stared in fascinated horror as its lifeblood soaked into the ice-crusted earth.
When I stepped away, silence filled the air.
A pile of bodies surrounded Kull. I had expected blood to coat him, but only a few smears stained his hands and cheeks. He stepped out of the pile and walked toward me.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
“Just my wrist. You?”
He smiled a wolfish grin. “Never felt better.”
Behind him, a cloud of black matter appeared. Piercing red eyes stared from the semi-formed, skeletal face. My scream caught in my throat as the figure lashed out. Dark magic erupted like a whip and caught Kull in the back.
His knees buckled as pain contorted his face. The whip lashed at Kull again.
I reacted with magic. I knew using my magic was risky, but I also knew that creature would kill Kull if I didn’t.
“Banish.” I whispered the word for a spell that should have sent the creature to the farthest wasteland on the planet. Instead, dark magic flooded from the dream catcher. Its presence overwhelmed mine, mingling with my spell. An enormous headache flooded my brain. Blood clouded my vision, and my knees smacked the ground hard. It was the last thing I remembered.
Dreamthief Page 21