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

the memory is vivid, we can see what each other sees,’ a strained voice said.
    ‘Evil, greater even than that which destroyed our ancestral home, Unafay, moves upon Maioria,’ the High Elder said. ‘I see again our utter annihilation. Maioria will be no more, just as Unafay is no more. This is why the future is dark.’
    Marakon half opened his eyes, saw the sorrow and anguish upon the faces of those around him. ‘Yes. That’s why I fight. It’s all I can do. I wish I could tell you they will not come here, but that isn’t true.’ He closed his eyes again, not wanting to see their pain.  
    A black helmeted face flickered in his mind and his white eye burned behind its patch, making him gasp in pain. The eyes of Baelthrom were completely white as they glared at him from behind triangle slits. Fear grabbed hold of Marakon’s gut and clenched painfully. He was dimly aware of the gasps of terror around him. He clamped his hand over his white eye and gritted his teeth. Sometimes it did this, burned with pain as fierce as when he got the wound, and always he wanted to claw it out of his face.
    ‘I see him,’ a woman’s strangled voice said.
    Slowly the pain dimmed and he forced his good eye open. The image of Baelthrom went along with the pain. He gulped air into his lungs and wiped the sweat rolling down his forehead.
    The Elder woman opened her eyes, her face pale and drawn. ‘We must consult with Jarlain every day, and ask her to see with her vision. This enemy is unlike any we’ve ever known.’  
    The other Elders murmured their agreement. They looked at the floor in silence, frowns of worry on all their faces. Red Beard spoke and an enigmatic smile spread across the old man’s face, replacing his frown.
    ‘The Hidden Ones spoke to me whilst you were in the Drowning Wastes, Marakon half-elven. The goddess moves in mysterious ways, but it seems you and your knights, and we the Gurlanka share an ancient bond.’
    Marakon frowned and then realisation slowly dawned on him. ‘Unafay,’ he breathed. Speaking the name aloud with this growing understanding immediately brought a lump to his throat, he blinked through the mist covering his eyes. He remembered a land, a beautiful land of green hills and many lakes, warm summers and mild winters.
    ‘Yes,’ Red Beard said, and the others smiled. ‘We were very different then. But sometimes, for all our ancestors’ great advances, I think we are better now. Here we are more connected to Maioria and the Great Spirit of All than ever we have been. In our dreams we all share a memory of a bountiful land, and our hearts ache. The Hidden Ones showed me that you were a great leader, until the demons came.’
    Marakon nodded, his mind drifting in ancient memories. ‘ “In the Valley of Death terrible things happened,” ’ he murmured aloud the boatman’s words. ‘That is why we have returned.’
    ‘Your curse can never be fully lifted until you find the one that cursed you,’ an Elder woman said, concern furrowed her brow.
    ‘We will find him,’ Marakon said resolutely. ‘That is why we have returned.’
    ‘When the demons came, our land was lost,’ the High Elder said. Marakon nodded, he remembered that part all too well. ‘Their evil destroyed our minds, hearts and bodies in ways only demons know how. The land was poisoned and turned against us. Those of us that survived fled west across the sea. There we became one with the small groups of people we had once traded with. Now the peoples of Unafay survive along the coast of this new land where food is abundant, and we spread as far to the north as one can go. We, the Gurlanka, are the most southerly of the tribes. Here we came and here we remain to this day.’
    ‘Then you must warn the other tribes.’ Marakon leaned forward and wrung his hands. ‘Tell them there’s a threat more deadly than all the Seadevils combined. An enemy more dangerous than the demons who destroyed Unafay. You must try to unite