Free The Dreamer Stones by Elaina J Davidson

healing,
and heard her sigh relief.
    She should
drink something, he mused, looking up at her pale … no, severely
sunburnt face. He leaned over her, laid a soothing hand to her skin
and watched the red-hot glare fade. She moaned, turned and he let
her be. She needed rest more than water.
    Then there was
nothing left to do but sit in the shade of the pavilion, and
think.
    By his
estimate, they had been in this realm a week, though it felt like
one endless day. That first success was lost in the long walk to
nothing. No horsemen, no race, no pounding fear or heart. What was
he not seeing?
    Krikian would
be patient back on Luvanor, and also waiting.
    Where is my
patience? Time runs out for Valaris. Whatever must happen, must
happen soon.
    Valaris. He
had been away about two weeks. The darklings would attack soon.
Tymall did enough to spread doubt, and Margus would launch his
counter-attack. He should be there for that, if only to minimise
the impact on Valarian psyche. Tannil would not like it, but he
would use those measures, and then blame himself for the
aftermath.
    Would the
other, the mysterious nocturnal visitor, show himself then, when
horror could not be worse?
    Torrullin
groaned and lowered his face into his hands. It was pointless
second-guessing; it was also self-defeating. Finish this and get
back into the fray.
    He lifted his
head and stared over the endless plain.
    Lowen called
it the Hounding; what, exactly, did that mean? It had to be more
than a physical chase across the desert or it would have begun
before now. If it came now as dreamed, then he was at a
disadvantage. His feet hurt, he was exhausted, had no energy, but,
worse, had not the will to run anywhere for whatever reason. The
horsemen would win by default; he would simply sit here and watch
them come.
    And if it was
not a chase? He recalled Rosenroth’s cryptic claims about leaving
his innocence behind to stand empty at the abyss. He wondered what
that implied. How did one leave innocence behind … by running
across a desert?
    Innocence was
certainly not a description he would use to describe himself. Yet
the claim was produced. Had there been innocence in the unnamed
fear? Was there innocence in what was to come? Would the Hounding,
whatever it was, make it known to him?
    His thoughts
went round and around.
    He lay back,
careful not to disturb Lowen.
    This was a
fool’s mission. It was time to go home …
    He slept.
     
     
    An hour, a
day, a year?
    He awakened
and attempted to hold onto something clear in sleep, an answer
elusive in wakefulness, but it was lost to him.
    Sitting, he
drank water, and checked on Lowen. Asleep. He looked over the
desert. No change there either.
    Passing out
had returned to him energy and a will to finish it. He threw a
challenge out into the emptiness, begging the chase to come to him,
to be done, but nothing moved out there.
    What a scam.
Rosenroth spoke through his ancient and shrivelled balls.
    “If you
experience fear and doubt and an unwillingness to perpetrate the
ultimate evil, Enchanter, you retain a shred of innocence.”
    He turned his
body around to face her. She was awake and watching him from her
prone position.
    “Can you read
my mind now?” he asked, not surprised, but disconcerted.
    Her lips
tightened. “No, Torrullin. I merely know at this stage you must be
questioning validity.”
    He inclined
his head. “I’ll accept that … for now. What is my ultimate evil,
Lowen? What thing would destroy my so-called innocence?”
    She simply
looked at him.
    Ah. Tymall.
Killing his son was the ultimate evil, even though that son
deserved to die.
    Gods. In
leaving innocence behind, would it mean he could strike at his son?
Was that the point to this? The means not to care, just do what
needed done?
    His face was
ravaged when he faced her anew. “No-one can ask that of me.”
    She read his
thoughts in his face. “Torrullin, you must trust there’s an answer
beyond the obvious.”
    “What answer?”
He