Free The Darksteel Eye by Jess Lebow Page B

really, pictures that ran in her head. All elves had them, but Glissa’s were stronger, more vibrant, than most. No one knew for certain what they were. Glissa thought of them as waking dreams—the possibilities of her mind showing themselves in brilliant colors.
    The elders in her tribe had claimed the flares were visions of the future. Most elves did not believe that. Who could really see into the future?
    Sometimes the visions blinked in and out, as if she were opening and closing her eyes while she spun in a circle. Each time her eyes focused again, a different scene filled her vision. It was only for a split second, then it was as if her eyes closed again, and she moved on, looking moments later upon something entirely different.
    “No golem,” Glissa said.
    “No golems?” Bosh seemed concerned. “Are there no golems allowed in the Tree of Tales?”
    The elf shook her head, dazed. “Uh … no. That’s not what I was talking about. I’m sure they’ll allow you in.” She stood up. “They’d had better let you in.”
    “What you talking about then, crazy elf?” asked Slobad.
    “I had another flare.”
    Slobad stood upright and looked at her with wide eyes.
    “No, it’s okay. I’m fine.”
    “What did you see?” asked the big golem.
    “I saw a different world again. A world without metal.”
    “A world without golems?”
    “No. There was a golem, or at least what I thought was a golem.” Glissa shook her head, trying to clear it.
    “It mean something, huh?”
    “I don’t know, but it seemed like a nice place.” She looked at Bosh. “All except the part about the golem. I’m not sure it was a nice golem—” she touched Bosh’s arm—“like you.” She shrugged. “There were soft things there, like the blankets and beds we stayed in at Bruenna’s village. Even the grasses and bushes were soft.”
    The goblin gasped. “Soft razor grass?”
    “It wasn’t really razor grass. It just looked like it.” She straightened and headed deeper into the Tangle. “It was nothing. Get going.”
    The trio walked on in silence for some time. The closer they got to the Tree of Tales, the more memories crept into Glissa’s mind. She thought of Kane, wearing the armor of the Tel-Jilad Chosen. A deep sadness filled her chest. It felt heavy, as if a vorac were standing on her chest. A knot in the bottom of her stomach moved and fluttered as if she’d swallowed a live bird.
    A voice brought her from her reverie. “Glissa.”
    Glissa looked up from the ground. The figure before herwore the red ceremonial armor of the Tel-Jilad. For a moment, Glissa saw a different face.
    “Kane?”
    The elf looked at her sideways. “No.”
    Glissa looked around. While she had been thinking of her best friend, she had walked right up to the front of the Tree of Tales.
    The guard stepped to one side, indicating the side of the tree with a sweep of his hand.
    Glissa stared at him, confused. “What’s this? You’re just going to let me inside the Tree.”
    The Tel-Jilad nodded.
    Slobad sidled up to her. “You sure ’bout this, crazy elf? Last time we here, they think you kill old troll, huh?”
    Glissa nodded. “They haven’t attacked us yet,” she said. “Besides—” she looked up at Bosh—“we’ve got a golem.”
    Slobad threw up his hands and the three of them headed toward the tree.
    Glissa stepped between the roots, pushing through the rounded vines that hung down, obscuring the entrance to the Tree of Tales.
    Inside the tree, the trio were greeted by a large, imposing troll. His face was round and covered in warts, and his shoulders were slouched forward, as if his head were too heavy to be held up by his thick neck.
    “Young Glissa,” said the troll in a deep rumble, “we were expecting you.”
    “Do I know you?”
    “No,” said the troll, “but Master Drooge knows
you
. He is awaiting you upstairs.”
    The elf eyed the troll. His manner was controlled and introspective, the exact opposite of