Summoner of Storms by C. Greenwood

Author:C. Greenwood [Greenwood, C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy
Published: 2016-09-30T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A short time later, the three companions sat in the shadow of a great boulder and ate a meal of dried beef and oatcakes. Orrick had lost the pack containing their supplies in the mud pit, but luckily, Geveral had food enough to share.

The meal was a silent one. Tension had hung in the air ever since Orrick’s announcement that he wouldn’t support them in taking the scepter to the oracle.

As if the disagreement wasn’t enough, Eydis was privately struggling with a difficult decision. She knew it was her responsibility as mistress of masks to keep the Betrayer of Blood attached to her cause. The fate of Lythnia and all Earth Realm hung in the balance, and who knew but that Orrick would prove necessary in the coming battle against Rathnakar?

But at the same time, she had come to see Orrick as more than an ally. He was something like a friend. And that meant she had another duty too, a more personal one. When she had first met Orrick on the Isle of Bones, she had persuaded him to join in her quest by promising the information he so fiercely wanted in return for his service. He had upheld his end of that bargain, fighting alongside her at Asincourt and beyond. He had been true to his word, and now it was time she was true to hers.

After they finished eating, she took Orrick aside.

“I swore something to you once,” she reminded him. “I said I would tell you where to find the man you sought, the one who can prove you innocent of the betrayal of the Endguard fortress. You have kept your promise to me, and now I must do as much for you.”

Orrick grew alert, doubtless realizing he was about to receive the reward he had been waiting for.

Eydis hesitated even now. For in giving up the information he needed, she knew she was surrendering her only hold over him. No more would she, the oracle, or anyone else have the leverage to keep him involved in their cause.

But she owed him.

So before she could change her mind, she said, “The fellow you seek, this Arik the One-Eyed, is in a place of ash and fire. I don’t know its name, for I glimpsed him there only briefly in a vision. But I saw a one-eyed dwarf smashing his axe against a rock as if it were his enemy. The ground trembled around him and the air was thick with soot.”

Comprehension dawned in Orrick’s face. “You describe the Lostlands,” he said excitedly. “The fire and soot can only be from the volcanoes of that place.”

“There is more,” she said. “The dwarf was not alone but accompanied by a gray-skinned, dark-haired woman. A fearsome creature with glowing eyes and the fangs of a beast, she wielded a staff with light shooting from it like a weapon.”

“A vampire queen,” Orrick decided, as if he had encountered such creatures a thousand times before. “If Arik the One-Eyed is

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