Free Scarlet and the Keepers of Light by Brandon Charles West

whisper.
    “I’ve never heard those words before,” Scarlet admitted.
    The toymaker looked around his shop, his eyes shifting guiltily. He came very close to Scarlet, lowering his voice to an even softer whisper. “You are the hero of a great prophecy that we Tounder have known all our lives. And now you’re finally here. Just in time, if you ask me—not that anyone is, mind you. Only a matter of time before the dark prince will be ready to challenge us . . . well, you. It is a glorious day, but please—I should not be the one telling you this. I would appreciate you not telling anyone I told you.”
    “I won’t,” Scarlet promised reluctantly. She wanted desperately to ask the Tounder what he had meant, but the worry in his eyes told her to leave it alone. A dark prince? A prophecy? It all sounded surreal, and at the same time so ominous. “Besides, I don’t even understand what you did tell me,” she added.
    The toymaker backed up and laughed, his expression lightening. “You will,” he said. He took a small cube of light, about the size of a board game die, and placed it in Scarlet’s hand. “Until the day you create your own light,” he added cryptically and then hurried back to the room from whence he’d come.
    The rest of the day passed quickly, with one wonder-filled moment after the next. It was difficult to take in all the glorious sights of Illuminora, as each and every thing the girls saw was new and exciting. When finally they decided to call an end to their explorations, they headed back to the castle, feeling hungry and sleepy. Scarlet’s first thought was to find her mother and father and ask them what they had learned from Xavier.
    Her questions, however, would have to wait. A large group of young female Tounder met in the entrance hall, and informed them that they had to hurry and dress for the feast. A grand celebration had been prepared for Scarlet and her family.
    Forget feeling like a movie star. Now Scarlet felt more like royalty.
     

8
    The Tempest

    Brennan was cold, hungry, and exhausted. He and Chosen had been walking all day and well into the night. His ordeal in the jail cell had left him weakened, and the pace Chosen kept was unrelenting. Making matters worse, they had now entered the Southern Wildlands, which, aside from being extremely difficult terrain physically, was also some of the most dangerous territory in all of Satorium.
    Brennan’s mother had told him many stories of the dark creatures that inhabited these lands. Once when their travels
had taken them near the edges of the Wildlands, she had become visibly nervous, a trait his mother never displayed without good reason. Chosen, on the other hand, plodded straight through this sinister landscape with no more concern than a man on a Sunday stroll through the park. When Brennan mentioned that he’d thought it dangerous, Chosen’s only reply had been that it would take ages to walk around.
    The Wildlands’ dense forest and swampland were bisected by a fast-moving river whose treacherous currents rendered it nearly impossible to cross. Upon entering the Wildlands at the delta, a traveler was forced by the impassable marshland to the river’s east to instead negotiate the formidable forest along the west bank. Eventually, however, the terrain would flip, and the traveler would have to cross the river again at the southern border of Leona, the kingdom of the Dorans—an impossible task for anyone without an intimate knowledge of the river and the surrounding terrain. Brennan wasn’t sure how well any man could know the Southern Wildlands, but Chosen certainly seemed familiar with it as he moved effortlessly over the rough terrain.
    Brennan tried his best not to think about how tired he was, instead concentrating on what would be waiting for him on the other side of the Wildlands. The Dorans ruled over the greater portion of Satorium beyond the Wildlands, and at the heart of Leona was Caelesta, their capital city.