Dreamthief

by Tamara Grantham

  ***

  I awoke to the sound of rustling clothing. My eyes opened. I stared through the hole in the tent’s ceiling. False gray light brought little illumination to the tent. I stared around the dark room, trying to find the source of the noise.

  Arantha stood by the tent’s flap.

  “What are you doing?” I asked her.

  “Geth wanted you to leave as soon as possible. I’m only helping you get your things in order. I shall be back shortly.” She gave me a curt nod and then left the tent, her arms filled with bundles of cloth.

  Although I’d had several hours of sleep, my head throbbed. I rubbed my temples as I turned to Kull, who rested with his face turned away from me.

  With careful hands, I pulled the covers away to reveal the scar on his back. A thick scab of dark blood had dried where the gash had been. The infected pink edge had faded, which was a good sign. Kull had been lucky. I doubted he would’ve survived another day with a wound like that. He’d said once before that he was alive because the gods allowed it. He meant it.

  I scooted closer to the fire, feeling the early morning chill seep inside the tent. I rubbed my hands together to get the circulation going. My head hurt as I stood, but I ignored it as best as I could. I crossed to the table where I’d put my clothes.

  The table sat empty.

  I searched around it, hoping they’d fallen off, but I found nothing. Had I put them somewhere else? Perhaps Kull had moved them. I debated on waking him when I remembered that Arantha had been holding a bundle of clothing. Had they been my clothes?

  My heart sped up. This wasn’t good. Geth’s book and the dream catcher were still hidden inside.

  I crossed to the tent’s flap when I heard a man yelling. I stepped out, cold air nipping at my skin, to find Arantha passed out only a few yards away from the tent. Peerling’s book lay next to her, its pages flapping in a stiff wind. A man crouched over her, studying the black dream catcher that was clutched in her hand.

  “Geth!” he called.

  The man looked up as I approached, his dark eyes wide. “Is this yours?”

  Uh-oh. How could I explain my way out of this one? What should I say?

  “Is it yours?” he repeated louder.

  Geth appeared behind the man, accompanied by several other brutes nearly as tall as Kull. Geth hesitated as he stepped toward Arantha. His face paled as he focused on me.

  “You…”

  I took a step back.

  “Is this your dark magic?”

  “No. It’s not mine. I was only guarding it—”

  “You have brought this evil into our camp—into our home!”

  “It wasn’t meant to be out of my sight.”

  With the tip of his boot, he kicked the dream catcher out of Arantha’s hand. It landed several feet away.

  “Take her,” Geth said to his men as he knelt by the healer.

  “Geth, please—I can explain. This is a mistake.”

  Rough hands encircled my arms.

  “Explain?” Geth asked. Arantha looked dazed as she sat up, rubbing her forehead. Geth helped the woman to her feet. “You don’t need to explain anything. I have my proof.” He pointed at the dream catcher and then stepped close to me, so close I could see the yellow flecks in his eyes. “My men saw the Dreamwalker with the same dark talisman that you carry. That thief took our children’s dreamsouls, enslaving them. We left our home to find that creature. We have been searching ever since. And now we have found you. You are the Dreamwalker.”

  “No, I’m not! You’re wrong.”

  “It is true. I suspected you were lying to me earlier. You stole my book, which proves you are a thief.” He backed away, his eyes filled with rage. “Tie her up,” he told his men.

  I couldn’t let this happen. “Geth, stop. I’m not the Dreamwalker.”

  “You deny it?”

  “Yes! I found that loom in the Wult tombs. My godson was imprisoned by the Dreamwalker, and I was trying to save him. I don’t know who this Dreamthief is, but I mean to find her and stop her.”

  Geth crossed his arms. “You’re lying.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Yet you brought that talisman into our camp knowing of its danger. Can you deny this?”

  Ropes tightened around my wrists, so tight I felt my circulation being cut off.

  “Why did you come to my camp?” he demanded. “Did you mean to steal our dreams? Is that why you gave that cursed loom to our healer? Or were you searching for something else?” His eyes narrowed.

  “I’ve told you, I’m not the Dreamthief.”

  “You came to our camp for a reason. Why?”

  “I needed shelter.”

  “You are lying.”

  “I’m telling the truth! We were returning from the Wult tombs when the goblins ambushed us. We escaped them and found our way here.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

  My thoughts grew frantic. I couldn’t make my hands stop shaking. “Because I didn’t know if I could trust you. I should have told you. I’m sorry.”

  His arms flexed as he clenched his fists. “I cannot believe a word you speak. Tell me why you are here—I will not ask it again.”

  I shook my head. He would never believe me. I knew his type. Once he’d made up his mind, he’d refuse to believe the truth, even if it stared him straight in the face.

  “Tell me!” Geth yelled. He punched me in the ribs with enough force to crack bone. A loud pop sounded through the air, and pain exploded in my side. The blow made tears spring into my eyes. Stars danced in my vision.

  “What’s this?” Kull shouted as he stormed outside the tent, shirtless, his hair mussed and his eyes narrowed, reminding me of a grizzly waking from hibernation. Although I couldn’t breathe and the pain made my vision blur, the sight of Kull brought more relief than I thought possible. “What are you doing to her?” he roared.

  Geth stepped back. “Take him,” he shouted at his men.

  Three bulky men lunged for the Wult with their spears drawn. Kull had no weapons and no armor, yet I felt sorrier for the fighters than I did for him.

  Kull ducked as the first man approached. He grabbed the spear’s wooden shaft and ripped it from the man’s hands, then gouged the butt-end of the weapon into the man’s eye. The fighter fell back, screaming, hands held to his face.

  Another man rushed at him, but Kull slammed his fist into the man’s jaw. The fighter fell back, stunned, and hit the ground with a loud thud. He scooted backward as Kull closed in, drawing attention away from the third man, who rushed in behind Kull and stabbed the warrior’s back right below his deltoid.

  Kull let out a sound that I swore could have been a growl. In a swift motion, he jerked the spear from his back and knocked the third man to the ground. Kull pinned him down, the man’s own weapon jabbed into his throat.

  A dozen more men closed in, as if Kull had opened a floodgate. The whole encampment erupted as they fought the Wult intruder. My confidence in Kull’s abilities waned. Sure, he could stop a few fighters, but not this many.

  My stomach sickened as I watched a spear gouge Kull’s torso. Another man slammed a cudgel-sized fist into Kull’s face.

  Kull fought back, bleeding and bruised, and one-by-one, the men fell. The fight lasted only a few minutes, but to me, it felt like hours. Soon, Kull stood in the center of an empty battlefield, although I was surprised to see that he hadn’t killed a single man. Geth’s warriors retreated, leaving him alone as he rushed at Geth with a spear.

  The metal of a warm blade pressed against my throat. Strong arms encircled me, and I realized Geth held me. His arms were vice-like and squeezed the air out of my lungs, compressing my broken rib. I let out a muffled scream.

  “Stop,” Geth shouted as Kull bore down with the spear.

  The Wult paused, his eyes aflame as his gaze met Geth’s and then mine.

  “Step back,” Geth said. “Drop the spear.”

  Kull hesit
ated, as if trying to make up his mind. He flashed Geth a wicked smile. “Resorting to taking innocent victims, I see. Can’t finish me yourself. I’m glad we didn’t get the chance to meet earlier. I hate to meet cowards.”

  “She’s no innocent victim.” Geth’s voice sounded calmer than I would’ve expected.

  Kull held the spear tight. Geth pressed his knife into my neck. My heart pounded.

  “Let her go, and we’ll be on our way,” Kull said.

  “No. The Dreamwalker can’t continue to haunt our lands and take our children. She must die.”

  Kull raised an eyebrow. “Dreamwalker?”

  “Don’t act like you don’t know.” He nodded at his few uninjured men, who stood and then grabbed Kull’s arms. Kull resisted, which made Geth’s knife cut through my skin. The blade stung as it opened an incision.

  “Stop fighting us, or I’ll kill her,” Geth warned.

  Kull eyed me. How much did my life mean to him? Perhaps he would regret my death, but given the chance, wouldn’t he rather fight for his own survival than for my life—the life of one person—of someone he’d only just met and knew little about?

  He dropped the spear and let the men tie his hands behind his back. Geth relaxed the knife at my throat. The wind stung my open wound.

  “Nehor,” Geth called. The man I’d met when we first arrived came forward. His eyes narrowed as he looked at me, making his facial scars deepen.

  “Take her.” He shoved me into Nehor’s arms. “Kill them both,” Geth said, wiping the blade on his pants. “Make sure no one finds their bodies.”