Gorgoroth (Haladras #2)

ONE

Skylar was falling...falling. He kept reaching for his jetwing, but it wasn't on his belt. Below him, he could see his father, Grim, and Endrick standing together. He could see them clearly. They were talking casually, completely oblivious to Skylar. They were standing in a sun-covered meadow. Suddenly, a shower of rocks darted past Skylar, straight toward the meadow, straight toward everyone on the ground. Skylar tried to yell, to warn them, but no heard his cries. He waved frantically. Still, they didn't so much as glance upward.

Then the rocks made impact, instantly crushing all who had been standing, burying the entire meadow.

Skylar cried out in horror.

The rocks kept raining down.

Skylar kept falling...falling.

He woke to screaming. His own screaming. He jerked upright in his bed, his body drenched in sweat. It was the same dream. Always the same dream.

He squinted and blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light. For a moment, he breathed in and out sharply, letting his racing heart slow down. Above him, he heard the whispered hiss of the ventilators activating. Its cool air touched his face, helping to dry the coat of sweat on his skin. From his casement window, the light of morning streamed in, casting a hashed pattern from the window's bars onto the floor. A quick glance at his chronometer assured him he had not overslept.

This was not a day for oversleeping.

A knock sounded at the door. It was his mother, he knew. She didn't even wait for him to respond, but came directly in and hurried over to his bedside. Her face bore that same look of concern as it had after the first time he had the dream. He thought perhaps that there was an added measure of anxiety in his mother's hazel eyes this time. She had worn that face more and more of late. All because of today, he knew.

She sat down gently on the side of his bed.

"Was it the dream again?" she said.

Skylar turned away towards his window. An inexplicable flash of anger had come over him.

"They never even look up," he said, his voice on edge. "Why don't they look up! And why can't I ever get to them?"

His mother mopped his damp forehand with a cloth.

"I don't know, Sky. But it was just a dream."

She always said that it was just a dream, as though trying to convince herself that it didn't mean anything.

"That's the third time it's happened in less than two weeks. Maybe you should postpone your journey until you're better."

"No, Mother. I won't wait any longer. I've felt so anxious about her lately. Perhaps setting off to find her will help the dreams stop."

Skylar noted the obvious disappointment in his mother's face. She didn't want him to go, not now, not ever. He could hardly blame her. The chances of finding his long-lost sister, whether she be dead or alive, were slim. But he had to try.

"No one is making you go look for her, you know?" his mother said after a moment's silence. "I don't believe your father would fault you for staying here and watching over the kingdom. That's what he wanted you to do, isn't it?"

How many times had they had this conversation before? One thing he knew for certain: this would be the last.

"Yes, but he also charged me to find her before he died. You were there. How can I not?"

She hesitated.

"Men on their death beds..." she began, trying to speak as delicately as possible, "sometimes say things. They can be delusional."