Free Faith Of The Dragon Tamer (Book 2) by Cole Pain Page A

Bentzen. Then a hollow curse escaped his lips.
    All eyes turned to him. Bentzen smiled, managed a wave, and fell. Galvin caught him before he hit the ground. The world swayed. The faces surrounding him were fuzzy. Galvin’s deep voice yelled for water. Almost immediately cool water entered Bentzen’s mouth. He drank greedily. He hadn’t had water in days.
    He mumbled for more. He heard someone say not to give him too much. Someone else started washing the wounds on his arms. He tried to shake them off but he only managed to flop his arms like a fish out of water. More water entered his mouth. He drank again, this time not as quickly, hoping they would let him have more if he slowed his pace. They did not.
    He heaved a sigh as cool salve was applied to his arms. They were healing him. He didn’t want to be healed. He deserved death.
    “One of the Collective captured Renee and Marva. He’s taking them to Ista. Tol is dead, he died in my arms from the pain. I don’t deserve to live. Let me die. Please let me die.”
    - - -
    Ren woke, disoriented and confused. Every limb ached; every muscle throbbed. He twisted to get a better view of his surroundings. He was in the middle of a forest path, encased by tall spindly trees. Vines clung to their trunks, threatening to choke them. Some of the branches were already shriveled, the vines cutting off their vein of water.
    Nothing looked familiar.
    Ren rubbed his neck. A sharp pain shot through him. Then he felt the welts.
    Visions of the stark white hand flashed through his mind. It had choked him, burnt him. Ren felt around his neck. The claw marks were real. The welts were real.
    The images were real.
    Truth above all . He had to trust the Oracle’s commands. He had to betray his mother, deny his love, and destroy his soul. He had no choice. If he disobeyed worse would happen.
    He needed to see his friends. He desperately needed to feel the touch of another human being. He stood and looked around him. There was no clearing, no remaining rubble, no large trees, and no air of life.
    The Oracle was no more. Not one stone remained.
    It was turning dark. Ren started down the path, knowing his friends would be worried. His mind turned to the paintings, the words, the stone faces, the hand, and soon he was running to escape the things he had seen, what he had to do, and who he was.
    The wind picked up. Tree branches thrashed down, blocking his path and slashing his skin. They cut him time and again, but he welcomed the pain. With each cut the physical pain demanded his concentration and steered him away from the emotional pain. But after each assault the internal pain seemed to escalate, giving his soul to bleed. He ran faster, pushing on until he saw the light of a fire in a distant clearing.
    He heard the familiar sounds and smells of camp: Neki’s sarcastic laughter, Markum’s soft voice, Galvin’s worried speech, the smell of boiling tea, burnt wood, and roasted game.
    A debate was taking place. Neki said they should search for him. Galvin agreed, saying he had been gone too long. Markum refuted. Sometimes the Oracle kept people for weeks, he insisted. They shouldn’t worry yet. Besides, Markum said, if he hadn’t emerged the Oracle still had him and there was nothing they could do. Despite Markum’s words his voice was fraught with concern.
    Weeks?
    How long had he been gone?
    Ren stumbled into the clearing, startling them all. Galvin caught him before he fell.
    Ren barely heard Galvin’s demand to bring food and water, that he had lost weight. Ren thought about the air of life. It had kept him alive. At the mention of water, real water, his stomach rumbled.
    “How long?” he whispered.
    “Ten days. You’ve been gone ten days.”
    Ten days? How could he have lost that much time?
    Markum put a bowl of stew before him. Ren picked it up and slowly began to eat. It tasted bland. The air of life had been so sweet nothing could compare, but as his stomach began to fill the