Free The Wyrmling Horde by David Farland Page B

the morning air. A sweet scent blew from the netherworld, a perfume of flowers so rich that it threatened to overwhelm Talon, but it was mingled with an earthy scent of rich soil and sweet grass.
    But even more than the serenity of the scene before her or the fragrance that blew from the netherworld, the call of morning birds beckoned Talon.
    There were larks at the fringe of the meadow singing songs that were more intricate, more complex and variant in tone, than the loveliest song from a flute.
    Almost by instinct, Talon longed to be there. She suddenly found herself shoved from the back as someone lunged toward the door. A shout rose from among Talon’s people, and it seemed that they would stampede through the opening and bolt into the netherworld—not from fear but from desire.
    Daylan Hammer shouted, “Hold! Hold! All of you!” He held the staff at ready, barring the way, as if he would club the first person who tried to get past him.
    A woman, a young mother holding her child, stopped in front of him, and a wordless cry of longing rose from her throat.
    â€œListen,” Daylan said. “All is not as it seems. The world you see is beautiful, yes, but it can also be treacherous. There is perfect beauty there, and perfect horror, too.
    â€œSome who walk through this door will die, I fear. “Touch nothing until I tell you that it is safe. Keep quiet, lest you attract attention. Do not drink from any stream until I tell you that it is all right. Do not eat anything without asking me first.”
    There were shouts of agreement to the terms, but still Daylan Hammer barred the way. He looked into the eyes of the women and children, as if to be certain that they understood, that they would heed his warning.
    â€œOne last thing,” he said. “There are men on this world. Some of you have heard of them. You call them the ‘Bright Ones.’ Their ways will be strange to you, and their magics may be frightening. You must not anger them. Neither should you quarrel with them, or lie to them, or steal from them.
    â€œThey have no desire to harm you, but their conduct to you may seem impossibly harsh.
    â€œMost importantly, they will not welcome you. It is my hope that we will meet none on our journey. And if you happen upon them, and think them cruel, know only that their enemies are far crueler.
    â€œIf we are discovered, the Bright Ones will likely banish us back to your world. You will not be allowed to stay. I am opening a door to paradise, but only for a brief moment. You cannot stay forever. Understand this, and enter at your own peril.”
    He tried to bar the way for an instant more, but the netherworld beckoned, and with a shout of triumph the woman went charging through the door in the air.
    Daylan is wiser than I thought, Talon decided. He has just made himself our king, for no one will support the Madocs so long as they find themselves in a new and dangerous world.
    While the crowd streamed through, nearly forty thousand strong, Talon suddenly felt a strange reticence.
    This is more dangerous than we know, she thought. It may be more dangerous than it is possible for us to know.

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RHIANNA’S WELCOME
It is only when you know that no one—not family, not friend, nor any force in the universe—cares for you, that you begin to learn the virtue of self-reliance. It is only yourself that you can trust, and only yourself that you must remain true to.
    Thus, self-reliance is the Mother of All Virtues—the kind of fierceness, cunning, and unwavering resolve that one must master in order to succeed in life.
    Â 
    â€”From the Wyrmling Catechism
    That afternoon, Rhianna rested on the wind as she soared toward the Courts of Tide, riding thermals of hot air that rose from the plains below.
    The sun shone full upon her back, warming her wings. It had not been a full day since she had won them in battle, pulling the magical artifacts from the