Lands of Daranor: Book 01 - DreamQuest Read online

  Tarthur, now in his element, looked around to make sure no one was watching, then darted up and grabbed the pie as he raced away on foot for the safety of the inner forest. On the way, he met Derlin and they congratulated themselves on a job well done, for they were sure not a soul had seen Tarthur. They were close, only one had, but for Tarthur it was the worst one of all. Stepping from the shadows of a nearby building, Morty chuckled and walked confidently into the kitchen.

  “Wow,” Tarthur groaned, delighted. “That pie was incredible. I’m almost envious of Morty for being able to eat that well.”

  Derlin nodded in agreement. It had been a good pie. But they had other things to worry about. “Now,” he began in a slightly irritated voice, “if there are no more objections then perhaps we can visit Zelin?”

  “None that I can think of.” Tarthur, being the forgetful type, had forgotten that he had to sweep out the blacksmith’s shop. But as he was away with the baron’s hunting party, no harm was done.

  The two soon completed the short walk to Zelin’s chambers. Krendon was a small town; everything was within a short five-minute walk of everything else. It was nice that way. Of course, the forest bordered almost everything, making it handy for the boys’ getaways.

  The dream had really disturbed Tarthur, however. How had the pen written in color? Was there magic at work? And the dream had seemed so real, not like the other times that he imagined that he had killed the Death Lord. This time he felt like he had actually done it, and the monsters... He pushed the thought from his mind.

  Zelin’s yard was neatly kept. Tarthur had a friend named Girn, who was in charge of managing the grounds for Zelin. Tarthur liked Girn, but he didn’t see him around much lately. He walked up the stairs leading to the wizard’s house. Zelin was extremely old and wise, and you only went to see him for the gravest problems. He was a kindly old man, adored by all the people. Tarthur lifted the knocker…

  * * *

  “They did what???!!!” Judith’s shriek filled the room, causing the other cooks to cower in fear. Morty’s smirk was unaffected.

  “That’s right,” he said. He had really gotten them this time. There would be no food for Tarthur and Derlin for a while. Just wait until his dad heard about this.

  “All my hard work gone to naught!” Judith bemoaned her loss. “Well, why didn’t you stop them, idiot boy?! I’ll beat you with this rolling pin to teach you a lesson.”

  Morty stood there calmly, unfazed by her temper. “Might I so humbly remind you that my father could have you thrown out into the streets to beg for food like a common cur?”

  Judith caught herself. Morty smiled as he saw the realization dawn on her. She knew was all too true. While Judith was on relatively good terms with the baron, he did legally own the entire town. It would not be worth it for her to risk everything.

  “You’re thinking about this in the wrong way,” he coaxed her. “Tarthur and Derlin are the ones to blame, for it was they who stole your magnificent pie. I, of course, attempted to dissuade them from their self-destructive course of action, but—alas, my efforts were fruitless. I told them what they were doing was wrong, but what did they do, but spit at me, and say, ‘take this spit to Judith, for if she were here I would likewise spit into her ugly face.’ They told me that they would take their snot and put it into your excellent soup—which, may I say you do a delightful job preparing—to make it taste better.”

  Judith was absolutely fuming by this time. Morty was having no trouble coaxing her on. “This is not to be borne by such a fine cook as yourself. Since the proper legal authorities are out of town presently, you yourself must deliver the beating, for the scoundrels deserve no less.”

  Taping the pastry roller in her hand expectantly, Judith stormed out of the kitchen, and Morty followed after to watch.

  * * *

  “Come in.” The voice came from inside before Tarthur let the knocker fall, even as the door swung inward by itself.

  The inside of the room was a sharp contrast with the neatly kept outside. Objects were scattered all over. There was an old rusty sword there, an unstrung harp here, and a scarecrow in the corner. Suddenly the scarecrow spoke.

  “Welcome, boys, Tarthur and Derlin from the look of you. What brings such carefree youth as you to my dwelling?” Tarthur saw that what he had at first mistaken for a scarecrow was in fact Zelin himself. Now that he knew it was him, Tarthur had no idea how he had originally mistaken the wizard for just another part of the clutter. Embarrassed, he was unsure how to proceed.

  Zelin noticed him looking around at the mess. “Yes, people wonder why I don’t keep it tidy, but then I can never find anything when I want to. I think it’s much better this way.”

  Tarthur had to agree. He was never one to be accused of spending too much time to keep his room up to sanitary conditions. Zelin’s easy manner made him feel comfortable even though he had been there only a few minutes.

  “Well,” Tarthur began, “we’re here because of this.” He handed Zelin the scroll.

  Zelin carefully unwrapped it, and his face showed a look of mild surprise. He unrolled the whole thing, glanced over it, and then let it fall from his hands.

  The sternness in his voice startled Tarthur. “Where did you get this?”

  “I…I just had a dream. I was fighting the Death Lord, and then I killed him with my knife, and when I was running away I found it in a treasure chest and I copied it down.”

  “Did you read it in your dream?”

  “Yes, I did. And it caused huge waves to crash down on the monsters there, killing them all. That’s when Derlin woke me.”

  “Water waves, you say?”

  Tarthur nodded, and then unable to contain his excitement any longer, burst out. “What is it? Have we found something important and magical? What does it say?”

  Zelin raised his hand to ward off Tarthur’s questions. “I’m not sure. It may turn out to be something, and then again, it may turn out to be nothing. But for right now…can you boys fetch the farmer Addyean to me please? Tell him that it is important. I would rather speak with him for the moment.”

  “Okay,” Tarthur answered, a little perplexed. Then he shrugged it off. He was excited, yet also a little worried. What could the scroll say? He’d probably find out the answers to his questions soon. He hoped so at least.

  Tarthur and Derlin were good friends with Addyean, for while he was an adult, and therefore boring, he never was condescending when he spoke to them. He treated them just as he treated anyone else. He was a simple man, and had come to the village a few years ago to claim land after his father had passed away. Soon they were at his house, and not finding him there, they set out into the fields to look for him. Krendon was in the mountains, and there was not much level land for growing crops. Thus, it wasn’t long before they found him.

  “Hello, boys,” he greeted cheerfully. “I’m glad you came to help. We need that row over there done before lunch; we’re trying to finish harvesting this section today.”

  “Uh, actually, Addyean, we’re here because Zelin wants to talk to you.”

  Addyean stopped for a minute. “Me? What does Zelin want to talk to me for? Wait a minute, this better not be one of your crazy schemes. If you’re lying, you’ll harvest the whole field. Now, does Zelin really want to talk to me?”

  Tarthur nodded, going back in his mind and remembering that yes, Zelin did definitely want to talk to him. Harvesting the whole field would not be a good punishment.

  “I’ll answer the summons then,” Addyean replied. “You boys just stay here and work.”

  Tarthur was about to pick up the handle of the sickle, but oddly enough, the shabbily made article broke. Oh well, how could he harvest if he had no tools?

  * * *

  “But why? This makes absolutely no sense. Why would he summon him?” Addyean was frustrated. There were so many things that weren’t adding up.

  “Perhaps he considers him a threat, and wants to destroy him or e
nslave him before he can become strong enough?” Zelin was equally lost for ideas.

  Addyean thought for a while more. “Do mistakes ever happen? I mean, could it have been meant for someone else?”

  “It’s highly unlikely, but possible, yes. Most likely, it was completely random. Or, Tarthur could be working for him, and telling us of these stories of the Water Orb.”

  “I think that is improbable,” Addyean countered, while holding up his hand to admit the possibility. “But in any case, where do we go from here?”

  Zelin stared ahead almost as if he hadn’t heard. “What puzzles me is that Tarthur said he killed him, that he faded into the mist. Suppose he did defeat him there? This could be an unprecedented opportunity. That alone is worth following up.”

  The two were full of questions, firing them off back and forth so fast that the other would never have had a chance to answer them, if indeed he could. Zelin made an exception for Addyean’s next question. “What was with the gigantic wave, anyway?”

  “I think that he may have somehow stumbled onto the spell that controls the Water Orb. Are the boys skilled with forest lore?” Addyean nodded, not quite understanding.

  “Good,” Zelin replied. “Girn!” With this call, a young, quiet, shaggy-haired boy burst in from another room. “Girn, you are familiar with the boys Tarthur and Derlin, are you not?”

  The young boy nodded. Addyean looked at the shy boy. Girn had lost both his parents when he was little, and he almost never spoke. His speed was unmatched in the village, and this made him a valuable asset as an apprentice. He worked hard, and Zelin had picked him out personally.

  “Go to Yrean, the tailor and tell him to make two traveling cloaks, forest green, and have Judith prepare a couple of sacks of food. Get at least a week’s worth.” Zelin scribbled his instructions on a scroll, tied it neatly, and handed it to Girn. Zelin flipped him a shiny coin, which Girn caught as he raced out the door.

  * * *

  “I wonder what it could be,” Tarthur said aloud, the excitement starting to affect him. “Probably I’ve discovered some important secret of the world. Don’t worry, Derlin, when I’m a famous hero, I won’t forget you.”

  “Zelin looked worried, Tarthur. I don’t know him that well, but he seemed like something serious could be wrong. And why won’t they tell us anything?”

  Tarthur shrugged. “Maybe they really don’t know. We’ll probably have to go to one of the big cities to find out. Maybe we’ll even get to meet the king. He’ll say, ‘Tarthur, I award you this medal of bravery for exceptional courage. Why, you could fight the Death Lord in your sleep. And so you did! I think I’ll make you a Royal Knight of the highest order.’”

  “Well, something important must be happening. Look, someone is running this way.” Derlin pointed as a figure still too far away to be recognized charged at them.

  “Wait a minute…is that…oh no! Run, Derlin!” Coming at them at breakneck speed, waving a rolling pin viciously through the air, was none other than Judith herself. They tried to escape, but it was too late.

  “I’ll beat you little cretins senseless! Look at what’s happening to the youth these days! You better be able to grow new legs, because I’m going to break the ones you have, and then we’ll see what you have to say about my soup!”

  “You will not trouble us,” Derlin stood up. “We are on private business with Zelin.”

  It would be a lie to say that Judith was not incredibly startled. It didn’t look to Tarthur so much that she accepted their excuse but more that she was just shocked. “Zelin, what do you two thieving liars have to do with him?”

  “We are NOT liars,” Derlin countered. “And you practically forced us to steal that pie by starving Tarthur.”

  “And a good pie it was!” Tarthur broke in.

  “Quiet,” Derlin reprimanded. “I was winning the argument.”

  All three were cut short by the appearance of Girn.

  “I…I b…bear a summons.” Tarthur could tell that forming the words was difficult for Girn. He turned to collect Tarthur and Derlin, and to bring them with him.

  “Now, wait just a minute,” Judith was not about to just let them go. “There must be something going on here.”

  Girn nodded. “Y…you are all…also to make them a…a wallet of food. By…tomorrow.” Judith could not believe her ears, but Girn showed her the piece of paper telling exactly what was to be done, signed by Zelin himself. By the way she left, Tarthur assumed that Judith resolved to take it up with the baron later when he returned.

  As the boys walked silently to Zelin’s house, Tarthur’s mind focused on the last thing Girn had said—they were getting food packed for them. That could only mean one thing, that they were to go on a journey. But where?

  They soon arrived at Zelin’s house, and walked silently into the room.

  Zelin and Addyean sat in a pair of stiff-backed chairs, and Tarthur and Derlin took the two remaining chairs. Girn left to go take care of the cloaks. As there were only four chairs, he could see he was not invited.

  It was silent for a moment, and then Tarthur could contain himself no longer. “So, do you know what it is? I mean, we’re going on a quest, right? I bet it’s something important.” Derlin seemed embarrassed and gave his friend a look that told him he better shut up quickly.

  “I will begin by telling you a story,” Zelin said calmly. “It is a story about the beginning. When the world was young, the Creator established a delicate equilibrium, a balance that existed between all things. Everything was good, and so he rested. The power in the world was divided into four elemental forces, which separated on the first day. All creatures could share in them, but eventually each element grew close to a special group. Air dwelt with the eagles that nest in the high reaches of the Rune Mountains, Fire to the firebeasts that perished long ago, Earth went to all creatures, and Water to the mermen.”

  “One day, there was a man named Frehu. He was a righteous man; he gave to the poor, and helped build some of the towns that are in existence today. Yet, he saw the power of the elements and he wanted to control them. Fool!” Zelin cried out. “He delved in lore that he should not have. He sought to control the elements by enchaining them. The spell he used was permanent. Fire, he imprisoned in a single tongue of flame that never goes out. Earth was locked in a grain of sand. Air is kept in a feather from Firewing, the mighty eagle. Lastly, Water forever flows in a glistening orb. He fashioned four spells that would allow the user to unleash this awesome power.”

  “When he enchained the elements, the Creator saw what was happening and took part of his world away into what has now become the Eternal Vale. The rest of the world is where we live today. He sealed off the Eternal Vale with a Wall of Glass, so none may enter. Still, Frehu tried to enter, and in the end his own power collapsed inward on him, destroying him completely. Yet for all this, the trouble was not over, for Frehu had an apprentice named Darhyn.” At this name, Tarthur felt a shiver run down his spine and thought that the room had become a shade darker. “Darhyn hated what had been done to his master, but he was patient. He built up strength for hundreds of years. Eventually he took control of two of the elements, Fire and Water, and began to wage war.”

  “Many valiant people fought against him, and eventually he was defeated, but not destroyed. He sleeps in a palace in the Savannah Plain. For some reason or another, he called you, and we believe that you may have found the spell that controls the Water Orb.”

  “So, what do we do now?” Tarthur wondered.

  “That,” Zelin replied, “is what Addyean and I have been trying to decide. Unfortunately, we have more questions than answers. We may have a great chance, we may have nothing, and then again, we may be walking into a trap. We must find out more. And we must keep this a secret. The four of us present know, and Girn, Judith, and Yrean know something is happening. I would like to keep that number as small as possible, which is why I am sending you boys alone. You will not be missed much around here l
ike Addyean or I will, and you can travel swiftly and secretly. Go see the mermen. They, if anyone, will know about this event and they will know something more about the Water Orb spell. My friend Tustor, the merwizard, will be able to tell you if it is authentic or if it is just some strange thing that was hidden in the Death Lord’s castle. You may tell him, but no one else. There are powerful beings in this world that can sense the use of magic, and have ways of prying into your hearts. This must be kept secret, at least until we find out more.”

  Tarthur was excited. “Where are the shoals? When do we leave?”

  “It’s not far from here, only two days’ walk north, so I’m not expecting any problems.”

  Tarthur was surprised. Mermen only lived two days north? His master, the blacksmith, didn’t even believe that mermen existed. If he had known that, he and Derlin would have tried to visit them before.

  “You should be ready to leave in the morning, before first light.” Addyean spoke. “If there is anything you need in the way of provisions, I’ll take care of it. I want to remind you boys that this is certainly a serious thing. You should go, find out what you can, and return right away. We are putting a lot of trust in you; I don’t want anything to happen.”

  Tarthur nodded. “You can count on us, sir.”

  SUNRISE

  There weren’t any goodbyes said the next morning. The boys simply gathered their belongings and set out before the sun had come out to warm the land with its rays.