Free The Orb of Truth (The Horn King Series) by Brae Wyckoff

across the bottom. The box waited in the middle, with radiant beams of light sprouting in all directions. They were mesmerized, mouths agape. Bridazak sighed, and timidly approached. Cautiously, he stepped into the dry riverbed with a wall of water on each side of him. “What are you doing Bridazak?” he asked himself, but continued to traverse until there at his feet was the bright container. He slowly knelt down and picked it up. Holding it flat in his palms, he proceeded back to the shore where his friend remained motionless.
    “By all the gods of Ruauck-El,” Dulgin said in awe.
    The water was suddenly released as the walls fell. It collided and crashed to connect once again. Waves splashed on the banks and the original flow returned.
    Bridazak felt a strange peace come over him. The storm of emotions inside calmed.
    “I’m tired, Dulgin. We need to find a place to rest and get ourselves back on track for whatever lies ahead of us.”
    “This, whatever it is, is beyond us now.”
    “I understand, my friend. It is okay if you want to leave.”
    “Leave? I’m not about to leave. They killed our friend and almost got me. I will see this through alongside of you. They have messed with the wrong Dwarf.”
    Bridazak nodded gratefully. “What is in this thing?”
    “I don’t know, but now it has caught my interest. C’mon, let’s keep movin.”
    They walked in silence until they found a rocky area with a twenty-foot-high alcove nestled in the granite. It was a perfect location for shelter from the biting wind that swept through, and would give them a chance to get their bearings straight. The precipice of the naturally formed rock had a wide and flat dirt area that the weary travellers discerned others had used in the past. Remains of bones from an animal and a long forgotten fire pit were the markers, but no one had been here in quite some time. Dulgin began to scrape together loose wood in the area, mainly from the river’s edge. They would need to have a fire on this chilly night.
    The failing light produced a brilliant color spray of oranges and pinks on the sporadic clouds in the distance. Bridazak had watched many such sunsets with his lost friend throughout the years, and it stung deeply as he realized he was watching this painting unfold alone.
    “Spilfer, why couldn’t you be here to see this?” he whispered.
    The red-bearded Dwarf started the fire quickly, and then moved to unravel their bedrolls which were attached to the packs they carried. He tossed some dried rations to Bridazak, who was warming his hairy pads by the fire. Bridazak nodded his thanks but continued to stare deep into the flames. The wind howled around them, but only lightly touched their protected campsite. Lost in the light of the fire, the world he now lived in seemed a lifetime away from all he had known just a few days ago. He counted the previous events, grasping to restore some understanding: his dream, the mysterious creature hiding in the dark, Kiratta, the prophecy, Ember and then Mudd, and now, the ache at the loss of the only person he had ever known as a brother.
    “Hey! What about us?” A metallic voice sounded within Bridazak’s ears. He quickly scanned around and noticed that Dulgin was at the perimeter of their camp, kneeling down to grab from the pile of wood he had gathered.
    “Did you hear something, Dulgin?”
    He gave Bridazak a puzzled, squinty-eyed stare. “You okay, my friend? I only hear the wind,” he finally responded.
    “Stop talking to that ugly Dwarf over there and let us get a good look at you,” the same strange voice pronounced. Bridazak looked down and noticed the wrapping tucked in his belt—the one that Spilf had handed him before he was pulled through the magical gate. It suddenly wiggled and startled him. Dulgin noticed his friend’s jerky movement, and dropped the wood he had in his hands to reach for his axe.
    “What is it?” Dulgin asked.
    Bridazak didn’t respond, but instead