DREAMWIELDER Book 1 of The Dreamwielder Chronicles

Chapter 33: INTO DARKNESS

The ground leveled out before them, and they began passing the outermost buildings of the northeastern borough. The buildings were little more than dilapidated huts and sheds made of building scraps that rattled in the wind. Most were dark and lifeless, but a few had pitiful fires at their doorsteps where groups of people sat huddled together. If any of them noticed Talitha and Makarria passing by, they said nothing. The buildings gradually grew larger and more permanent-looking, and before long they were walking on a tar-paved road. Between the buildings, Makarria could still see Lightbringer's Keep though, and her attention was focused entirely on its dark visage. She followed Talitha wordlessly, not even noticing the steam powered rickshaws, the gas lanterns lighting their way, or the increasing number of city people crowding the streets. When Talitha finally brought them to a halt, they stood at the intersection of two large streets that was absolutely bustling with people making for the center of the city.

"Something's not right," Talitha muttered. "There are never this many people in the streets of Col Sargoth."

Makarria tore her eyes away from Lightbringer's Keep and took in her surroundings. She'd not been in enough cities to know what was normal or not. "Maybe it's because of the war. Could the Emperor be forcing people into his army?"

"He doesn't need them," Talitha said, shaking her head. She waved at an old woman passing by. "Excuse me, what's all the excitement about tonight?"

"Haven't you heard?" the old woman replied. "There's a public execution in the city square. The Emperor is killing the King and Queen of Valaróz."

"That's impossible," Talitha said, shaking her head. "We were told the Pallma line was killed off years ago."

"So we were. So we were. I guess we were told wrong."

"Wait," Makarria said. "My grandfather—"

"Hush now," Talitha interrupted, covering Makarria's mouth and waving the old woman away. "Thank you, Ma'am."

Makarria pushed Talitha's hand aside, annoyed she was being treated like a child. "Don't do that. What if it's my grandfather the Emperor has?"

"I don't see how that's possible. The last we heard, he was in Kal Pyrthin, preparing to sail for Valaróz. In all likelihood this is all just a ruse."

Makarria didn't believe it. The moment she had heard the old woman utter the word Valaróz, she knew something was wrong. She couldn't shake the feeling that her grandfather was in trouble. "I have to find out if it's him."

"Don't be rash," Talitha said, but Makarria was hearing none of it. She dashed off into the crowd of people and began making her way toward the center of the city. "Wait!" Talitha yelled, hurrying after her, but it was hopeless. Makarria was swallowed up by the crowd, and being shorter than most of the city people, she was impossible to spot. Still, Talitha forged her way forward, frantically looking for her.

A good distance ahead, Makarria wormed her way through the slow-moving crowd. When the street finally opened up into the city square, the crowd dispersed somewhat, and Makarria saw before her thousands of people mobbed around a huge platform in the middle of the square. She sprinted forward, and as she got closer she could see that two people were being held captive on the platform in pillories. By the time she got close enough to make out their faces, she was in the midst of the crowd and could see nothing. She shoved her way forward, frantically looking for a break in the mass of people. She spotted to her right a statue in the near distance and changed course toward it. Once there, she scrambled up onto the base platform of the statue and pivoted around to finally look upon the prisoners on the platform.

It was not her grandfather she saw.

She didn't know how or why her parents could be there, but it was them in the pillories, their hands and heads protruding from the cruel wooden framework, both of them badly beaten and shivering in the cold rain. Galen's face was hardly recognizable it was so bruised and swollen, and Prisca's nose was bleeding, her clothes tattered and sodden with blood. The crowd was jeering them with curses and insults, and those close enough threw rotten food and garbage at them or spat on their faces. As Makarria watched stunned, a man pulled himself onto the platform and grabbed one of Prisca's hands where it protruded from the large wood beam. He guffawed at the crowd, then yanked her fingers back with a savage twist, mangling her fingers into a broken mess. Prisca screamed out in pain, and at the base of the statue Makarria screamed. Both screams were lost in the yells of the crowd. Makarria tried to jump clear of the statue, but hundreds more people had crowded in around her, trapping her where she was. The man on the platform sauntered to where Galen was held, backhanded him across the face, and Makarria could take no more.

She closed her eyes and envisioned the pillories. She imagined them turning to sawdust and a great whirlwind blowing the dust into the crowd to chase everyone off. She felt the resistance in her core as she pushed the dream toward becoming reality. In her periphery, she heard her name and faltered for a moment. Makarria, no. It's a trap. Still in a trance, Makarria opened her eyes and saw Talitha there, trying to pull her away. Beyond Talitha, Makarria could still see her parents in the stockades, being kicked and spat upon. Again, she envisioned the pillories turning to sawdust...

A sudden gut-wrenching pain ripped the image from Makarria's mind. She opened her mouth to breathe but could not. The wind had been knocked out of her, and rough hands were pulling her from the statue. Someone smacked her across the face, and she was dragged to the ground to lie on her hands and knees. When air finally returned to her lungs and the tears cleared from eyes, she saw that she was surrounded by soldiers. Six of them surrounded Talitha, the tips of their pikes held inches from her throat.

The crowd, which moments before had been filling the city square with shouting, had gone completely silent.

In the silence, Makarria heard heavy footsteps approaching. She pulled herself to her feet and blinked the tears back from her eyes, as a giant of a man strode forward bearing a sword that was taller than Makarria. The very sight of him made Makarria's skin prickle with fear. It's him, she realized.

"Welcome to my fair city, Dreamwielder," Emperor Guderian said, coming to a halt before Makarria. "You've arrived right on time and saved your parents further public humiliation. They'll be happy, I'm sure, to return to the safety of the dungeon." The Emperor smiled thinly and winked at her. "I trust that you will be a polite guest during your time here. You and your sorceress friend, both. If either of you try any sort of magic again, you will be killed on the spot and I'll have your parents disemboweled,  then stoned to death to suffer for your crimes. Are we understood?"

Makarriacould only stare at him in stunned silence.