B008P7JX7Q EBOK
Authors: Usman Ijaz
CHILD
OF DREAMS
By
Usman Ijaz
Copyright
2012 - Usman Ijaz
All
rights reserved.
This
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of
the author`s imagination and used fictiously. Any resemblance to people, living
or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover
by Samra Muhktar
Prologue - Into the Heart of Darkness
7
Chapter 1 - The Call of Dreams
13
Chapter 5 - Leaving Port Hope
.
69
Chapter 7 - A Hail of Knives and Bullets
86
Chapter 10 - Assassin`s Road
.
112
Chapter 11 - Strangers in Bramble Woods
122
Chapter 12 - Crossing the Rye
.
135
Chapter 13 - The Lord of Hanna
.
154
Chapter 14 - The Dark Forest
163
Chapter 15 - The Tribe of the Woods
170
Chapter 16 - Down the River
184
Chapter 20 - An Old Friend
.
220
Chapter 22 - Fears in the Night
245
Chapter 23 - The Saddest Dusk (I)
257
Chapter 25 - The Darkest One
.
287
Chapter 27 - Now and Then, Here and There
.
315
Chapter 28 - A Meeting of Chance
.
329
Chapter 30 - The Road to Gale
.
349
Chapter 31 - On the Bridge
.
355
Chapter
32 - The Saddest Dusk (II)
362
Into the Heart of Darkness
1
The sky roared with thunder and lightning flashed,
illuminating the surrounding landscape for an instant before plunging the world
back into darkness. The grainy black soil was treacherous under Jonas’s feet,
often sending him skidding down the mountainside. But he picked himself up and
continued on. He had endured too much to reach this point to ever think of
turning back. He fought his way upward laboriously, under a sky that had not
shown a hint of light since he entered these dark lands days ago. The gear
strapped to his back slowed his progress. Jonas stared high up, wondering how
much longer he must continue like this and what he would find once he reached
the top. But the top could be leagues away for all he knew; he could barely see
two feet in front of him in the darkness.
He
stopped with his feet braced against a jutting rock and wiped the sweat off his
brow. The howling wind that raced down the mountainside streamed his cloak
around his legs. It was almost as though it were trying to force him back. The
wind also blew the black soil in his face, often blinding him if he was not
quick to shield his eyes. He stood there, bent over from the blanket rolls and
heavy pack containing his gear and supplies, breathing in the stale acrid air. The
urge to vomit had long passed all these endless nights ago, but he still longed
to breathe in air that did not smell and taste like ash.
His
long hair blew around his face as he scanned the surrounding land with gray
eyes, seeing the wasted ruins that he had come to believe was hell itself. Black
shrouded the world, land and sky alike. To the east mountains stabbed towards
the heavens, while to the west the barren land rolled away in dips and rises
without a sign of life. But he knew there was life in this place, life in
creatures and beings that looked dead and yet weren’t. To the north was the
forest he had come out of, and the same black, lifeless trees grew towards the
south. Nowhere did he see green things growing, or even a single speck of the
sun’s light. Everything remained shrouded in eternal shadows. Jonas shook his
head at his predicament. The journey to this point should have been easy for
one of his blood, but thus far he had found it painstakingly difficult.
He
thought of his family as he struggled upward, dead all these long years. He
forced himself to recall the night his mother had been killed, remembered the
sight of steel in the night and the screams that had followed. It had started
that night with his mother’s death, and it had ended years later with his
little sister lying in a dirty street.
Bastards! Cowards! They damned
themselves and their kind!
His hatred fueled him on, feeding him.
The
roiling sky overhead boomed with thunder and lightning flashed near the
mountains to the east. Jonas stared at the sky with a face that showed his
middle years, and thought the gods themselves must be trying to rip open the
sky.
If they are up there at all,
he thought with deep bitterness
.
The
sky was never silent in this place, he had found, but rather always roaring its
empty threats. It had caused him trouble sleeping at first, among the many
other difficulties this journey had provided, but he found that he was used to
the sound now. Pulling his cloak tighter around him, he continued up the slope,
all the while the wind strove to drive him back.
The
Hensi had not met him as he had thought they would. It made him wonder why they
had not come to him when they sensed him. Did they perhaps have any notion of
his intent? Could that be the reason they kept away and let him face these
perils alone?
To hell with them
, he thought, and laughed suddenly, a
small sound in such a vast place. They were already in hell. A grim smile
spread over his lips as he trudged up the mountainside. He would prove them
wrong, and then he would find them and put an end to the traitorous bastards,
the same as those who had killed his family.
When
he saw the looming shapes above him Jonas abruptly drew to a halt. His heart
raced and his breath caught in his throat in his shock. For a moment he could
do nothing, frozen in place. Then he realized that the shapes above did not
move but rather stood defiantly against a backdrop of roiling clouds. And to
think he had nearly destroyed them out of surprise. He studied them for a long
while, waiting to make sure it was not a ruse. At last he climbed towards them.
The
large shapes rested on a plateau in the side of the mountain. They were formed
of giant slabs of stone piled smartly atop one another, constructed to look
like some crude guardian sentinels. Well over a dozen of the stone giants
covered the flat plateau. They faced outward in every direction, as though
keeping a wary eye on all sides. At first Jonas was so caught by them that it
was a shock to see the large hole in the mountainside at the rear of the
plateau. The inky darkness of the gaping cavern invited him forward and he obeyed
without question.
I’ve found it
. The thought passed through his mind
over and over.
He
felt as though the eyes of the statues were following him as he walked among
them. He kept a wary eye about him, half expecting them to come to life and
rush him. As he neared the mouth of the cavern, all thoughts of his
surroundings, of this dead land and its foul inhabitants and dangers fled. He
could only think of what he would find in the darkness before him.
Jonas
knelt before the welcoming dark and burrowed in his pack until he found a lamp.
He lit it with a sulfur match, and reflected on how perverse the small light
seemed in this place. The blackness before him seemed to swallow the small glow
of the lamp as he pushed his way into the cavern.
The
little light the lamp cast was not nearly enough for him to make out the
interior of the cavern. He walked among shadows, listening to the smallest
sounds. He did not know how long he walked through the snaking throat of the
cavern, often walking into the walls before righting himself, but before long
he began to wonder if his desire had doomed him, if he were not lost in this
dark. At one point he heard the sounds of some creature feasting noisily right
above him. That it was feasting he had no doubt, not with the sounds of tearing
flesh and suckling of bones and marrow. He was far from defenseless, but he did
not wish to find out how much his powers could protect him in this place -
already he had found that entering this land could mean his death.
Jonas
suddenly became aware that he could see the walls of the cavern and could see
his hand on the wall. Here the darkness was mixed with the barest hints of
light. He was closer. He looked back once, saw the familiar dark, and pushed
forward. The darkness seemed to recede with every step he took, replaced with a
dazzling light, and soon he found himself shielding his eyes against the sudden
bright assault.
He
stepped out into a wide cavern of blinding white light. It was brighter than
the sun at its peak, forcing him to cover his eyes and look through the slits
between his fingers. There were no shadows in the cavern but only whiteness,
pure whiteness. For a long time he could do nothing but stand beneath the
entrance and stare, suddenly feeling small compared to the dazzling beauty
before him. Even the motes of dust seemed to sparkle in the air. Color fled
before that light as it cast everything in its pale glow.
Then
he saw what he had been searching for.
In
the middle of the wide cavern the source of the light rested, brighter than the
surrounding light. Even looking at it from between his fingers hurt Jonas’s
eyes. He took a step toward it, and felt the light seep into him. The feeling
was so strange that he stopped abruptly. He could feel the light coursing
through him, filling him. He shut his eyes but he could still see and feel the
brilliance behind his lids. He fought to resist that purifying glow. He had an
uneasy feeling that it was trying to change him, to overwhelm him and turn him
from his path. But he had spent too long envisioning this moment, and of all
the outcomes, this had never been one he had foreseen.
“Get
out!” he shouted hoarsely. He fought with every ounce of will he had, but in
the end he thought the light left him of its own accord. He laughed aloud,
feeling victorious for the first time since setting foot into this
god-forgotten place. With his next step, an odd sensation filled him, as though
the flesh beneath his skin was about to jump out. He continued quickly, eyes
closed tightly and hands spread before him, feeling his way. Searing pain
filled him as the warmth around him increased. The pain started deep inside
him, but it soon felt as though he were aflame both inside and out.