Free Storm Holt (The Prophecies of Zanufey Book 3) by A. Evermore Page A

thoughts. At least he used to - now he understood who he was better, sitting still with his thoughts didn’t seem as bad, as long as they didn’t turn into memories. He couldn’t cope with memories. One of the Elder women spoke.
    ‘We have seen in our future a sky without stars, a world without hope. You could say that we have seen in our future no future at all. Nothing. Have you seen our future, Marakon?’
    ‘No,’ he replied.
    They were silent at that. Then they all began to hold hands and when Red Beard and the woman beside him reached for his, he tentatively took them.
    ‘Then close your eyes and see,’ she said.
    He frowned and closed his eyes. What was it they were going to do? He was quite astonished. Behind his lids blackness stretched out around him. Not the enclosed dark that was normally there when he shut his eyes. No, this darkness was expansive, a huge open space of endless nothingness.  
    ‘I see nothing,’ he breathed, taken aback by what they were somehow able to show him.
    ‘And then in the darkness a light grows…’ she whispered.
    Indeed, in Marakon’s vision he saw an indigo orb appear as a speck of light. Then it either grew bigger or it was coming closer, for its soft blue light was expanding. Slowly that light revealed the gentle contours of desert sands under a night sky filled with stars. Everything was bathed in soft indigo light. A huge glistening trilithon stood in the centre of the desert, so alone and out of place. Then a robed figure formed before the doorway created by the three stones. Her face was hidden in a hood, the swathes of her robe moved gently in the breeze. He had a strange longing to go and stand beside her, to be in her presence.
    ‘… And she appears…’ the Elder said, her voice tinged with wonder. ‘She beckons to us.’
    Sure enough the robed figure lifted a slender luminous hand, and beckoned to him. He started towards her and strained to see within the folds of her hood, but all he could make out was a smooth pale chin and perfect lips.
    ‘… Then she is gone…’
    The vision ended abruptly. He opened his eyes, blinking.
    ‘Do you know what this means, half-elven?’ the Elder woman asked, her clear brown eyes looked into his.
    He shook his head. ‘I have never seen this. I have never even seen a place like this in the Old World.’ He wondered what it could mean for a moment and then spoke his ponderings aloud. ‘Before I came here I met a man, a man cursed to row a boat for eternity. He asked me whom I served, and I knew then when I had never known before that I had come to serve Zanufey the Night Goddess. I still don’t know why I told him that, only that I know it is true. Since then her messenger the raven has often been with us. All I can say is that I think she is Zanufey, and I think she is calling you, but for what I don’t know.’
    The Elder woman smiled. ‘Yes, that is indeed what we think. And that is what the Hidden Ones say. Zanu calls us. But why? We do not know either.’
    ‘All I can say for certain is that Baelthrom and his Maphraxies are coming to every corner of Maioria, the Known World and the Unknown,’ Marakon said, and leaned forwards. ‘I think that is why Zanufey is calling to all those who would help.’
    ‘Have you seen this… Baelthrom?’ the High Elder asked.
    Marakon shook his head. ‘Few have seen him. But all know what he looks like because some of his horde take a likeness to his form. They are called Dromoorai, and they ride atop Dread Dragons.’ He closed his eyes as memory of that last day with Bokaard flooded back to him. The screams of the Dread Dragons made his heart shudder now as it did then. The hands holding his clenched and sharp intakes of breath echoed around him. They can see what I see? He blinked open his eyes, everyone else had theirs shut so he closed them again.  
    ‘Yes,’ several Elders answered his unspoken thought aloud, further shocking him. ‘When we are joined like this and