Omensent: Princess Of Dragons (Book 5) (26 page)

"Do any of the futures you have read in the last few months stand out among the others?"

"One in particular." The old woman nodded with a frown. "This elf, as Petra's followers soon discovered, had an eventful future to look forward to, full of darkness and death. I saw many things that he might accomplish, the foremost of which being him standing over the broken and battered body of the queen."

"Let me guess, the elf was Yrinn, right?" Brody asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"It was." Hetta confirmed with a nod. "He first visited me over a century ago wanting his fortune read, which was fairly mundane, if my memory serves me correctly. He seemed quite displeased with his reading, and accused me of being a fraud." She frowned, causing her wrinkles to deepen. "I think he was expecting me to tell him that his attempt to usurp the throne would be successful, but I saw nothing of the kind. It was only a few weeks later that his treachery was discovered, and he was banished from the island by the queen."

"But he returned, didn't he?" Damion guessed, watching the old elven woman closely.

"Aye, he did." Hetta nodded. "He returned a few months ago and insisted that I read his future again, even though I told him that it was very unlikely to have changed." She frowned. "He continued to persist, so I finally gave in and agreed to read his future once more."

"And that's when you saw him standing over the queen's body?" Damion asked, his expression concerned.

"Among other things, yes." The old woman nodded. "His future had been altered. It was almost as though he were a completely different person." Her voice took on a scholarly tone again. "A person can easily change his future through the decisions he makes, though those decisions always eventually lead to the same conclusion. But Yrinn had changed his fate in such a way that it no longer even resembled what it once had been. That is something that I have never seen before." She shook her head. "He didn't seem surprised when I informed him that it had changed so dramatically, and refused to answer any of my questions of how his destiny had come to be altered. He merely wanted to know the details of what I saw, and then he thanked me for my help and disappeared. I haven't seen him since."

"And you say that you saw him standing over Queen Serena's broken body?" Brody looked grim. "That means that there is no way of saving her from being killed."

"No, it doesn't." The old witch disagreed. "Yrinn is living proof of that. If he was able to alter his fate, then everyone's destinies can be changed, even the queen's."

"But how was he able to alter his fate?" Brody demanded in frustration.

"Since the tapestry that destiny had laid out for us has become unraveled," She shot Damion another disapproving look. "it appears that our destinies are once again in the hands of the gods. I would guess that Hetris would be the one responsible for changing Yrinn's fate so dramatically. He must have found some way of gaining the dark god's approval, and was rewarded in such a manner that it altered his fate."

"Have there been any other elves who stand out among the others that you have read recently?" The huge warrior asked. "Something that may help us to find where Yrinn and his followers are hiding, perhaps?"

The old witch thought about it for a moment. "A number of elves have mentioned a cottage on Pine Lake. I gathered that it was some sort of meeting place."

"We've already paid a visit to that cottage." Brody informed her with a scowl. "All we found were a couple of blood elves, and the disturbing realization that even those closest to you can turn out to be your enemy."

Hetta stared at the elven ambassador for a moment, then said. "Let me see your hand." She took his hand in hers without waiting for him to respond, then turned it over and began to examine his palm. "Oh dear," She murmured sadly, looking up to Brody with sympathy in her eyes. "I'm truly sorry, my friend. No one should be forced to endure what you discovered in that cottage. And you cannot blame yourself for your reaction. Your brother chose to turn his back on those who loved him in the foolish hope of being rewarded by Hetris. And I know that the guilt that you feel is making you question your own decisions, but you should know that if you hadn't struck him down, he would have continued to wreak havoc upon the followers of Petra, killing numerous innocents in the hope of realizing his dream of wielding unholy power." She stared at him with grave expression. "In the end, he would have ended up slashing his own throat when he finally realized that he would never gain the powers that he so desired, and that he had destroyed everything that he loved for nothing." She slowly closed his hand, then patted it gently. "You did the right thing by killing him. You saved him from a terrible fate."

Brody, looking as though he were on the verge of tears, drew in a deep shuddering breath, then nodded. "Thank you, Hetta." He murmured in gratitude. "It helps to know that it was the right thing to do, though I doubt the guilt I feel will ever diminish."

"So you can just look at someone's hand and see their future?" Shirk asked skeptically. "What does my hand tell you?" He held his palm out to the old woman, who gave it a cursory glance, then winkled her nose in disgust.

"It tells me that you haven't bothered to bathe in several weeks." She shook her head. "Palm reading only tells a small part of the story of one's life. For instance, you spent most of your childhood as a street beggar in Arleia before beginning a life as a cutthroat. Not an easy life, I would think."

"It wasn't." The bearded bandit confirmed, his expression troubled.

"But since joining forces with the Dragon Lord, your fortunes have improved dramatically, have they not? You have even managed to find love."

Shirk turned bright red beneath his beard, and coughed uncomfortably. "Did you see anything else?"

"As I said, palm reading only provides certain details, but there are other rituals that I can perform if you truly wish to know what fate has in store for you."

Shirk suddenly looked uncomfortable. "On second thought, I think I'll be happier not knowing."

"That's probably wise." Hetta smiled in amusement, then turned to Damion. "As for you, however, the spirits have said that you cannot leave this place until you have heard what they have to say."

"This can't be good." Damion frowned. "Every time that the gods or the spirits have something to say, I always regret hearing it."

"Nevertheless, you still need to hear their words," She glanced to the others. "and I'm afraid that their words are for the Dragon Lord's ears only."

Everyone looked to Damion expectantly.

"Is there anyplace that we can set up camp nearby?" The huge warrior asked after thinking it over.

"There is a clearing not far from here, at the edge of a small stream." The old witch nodded. "It's fairly secluded, so it's doubtful that anyone will stumble across you there."

The huge warrior looked to the others. "Go ahead and go find this clearing, and set up camp for the night. Make sure that you stay alert, though. There are still blood elves running around out there, and I'm fairly sure that word has gotten around by now that we have arrived on the island." He watched as they hurried off up the stairs, then turned to stare at the old witch expectantly.

Moving more quickly than he would have thought possible for an elf of her advanced age, the old witch cleared the table of the remains of their dinner, then retrieved a small chest from near the bed, which she placed before her. "Let's see what the cards have to say, shall we?" She withdrew a small deck of cards covered in strange symbols, which she shuffled several times and spread out on the table before her. "Yes, yes, I already know that." She murmured absently. "Everyone knows the story of how the Dragon Lord came to be. Now tell me something that I don't know." Her eyes suddenly widened in surprise. "Who was the elven maiden who once owned your heart? She seems to have played a large part in you becoming the man that you are today."

"Her name was Kariah." The huge warrior murmured, a bit disconcerted by the fact that the old witch had touched upon one of the most painful memories in his life. "She was killed many years ago, during the struggle to release the dragons from the Dragon Gem."

"And yet she still owns a small part of your heart, even after all this time. That's quite interesting. It says a lot about you." She peered back at the cards, and her expression grew puzzled. "This is odd. The cards are only showing me events from your past. They make no mention at all of what is to come." She frowned. "Let me try something else." She rummaged around in the chest for several moments, then withdrew a small bag. "Let's see what the bones say." She shook the bag vigorously for a moment, then dumped its contents onto the table. A number of tiny bones tumbled out of the bag and scattered across the top of the cards in a seemingly random pattern. "Oh my," The old woman murmured. "The eyes of many gods follow your every step as you make your way through the world." She told him in a harsh whisper. "Hate, envy, jealousy, it is obvious that they are all scheming against you."

"That doesn't really surprise me." Damion told her wryly. "I'm sure I've angered any number of the gods since I released the scarlet dragons into the world. What else do you see?"

The old woman stared at the bones again. "Your enemies know of your presence here on the island, and, even now, move against you. You must make sure that you remain vigilant, or you and your companions will fail." She scowled. "That's pretty obvious, I would think." She growled at the bones. "How about telling us something useful?" She stared at the bones for several more moments, then shook her head in disgust. "The bones won't reveal anything else to me. They seem to be having trouble reading you. That's never happened before."

"What could be causing the problem?"

"I don't know. As I said, it has never happened before." She sighed. "There's nothing else I can do, except use my seer stone." She reached into the chest and withdrew the largest pearl that Damion had ever seen. It was enormous, almost the size of a coconut, with an iridescent surface which shifted colors hypnotically in the candlelight. "This is my seer stone." She told him, gently placing the massive pearl onto a tiny wooden pedestal in the center of the table. "It allows the spirits to speak to me, and shows me things that will come to pass."

Damion chose not to comment, but merely watched as the elderly elven woman began to stare into the huge pearl's shifting surface.

"Interesting." Hetta murmured after a moment. "You truly are an unusual one, aren't you? The shadows seem to flock around you, making you hard to see." She drew closer to the pearl. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you didn't have any future laid out before you." She murmured finally. "But that would be impossible. All mortals are bound to fate, though who controls that fate may change from time to time. A man without a fate would be able to write his own destiny, and that's something that the gods won't allow."

"Which is probably why so many of them are watching me." Damion grunted sourly. "I was once told that I was a man without a destiny."

"Who told you this?"

"Gwynth of the Gods." The huge warrior informed her grimly. "She said that destiny had no hold over me, and that all those whom I come into contact with have their destinies irreversibly altered."

"Gwynth of the Gods told you that?" The old woman stared at Damion in shock. "As far as I'm aware, there has never been someone who dwelt outside of destiny's influence. I can see why you make the gods so nervous!"

"So what you're saying is that you can't see into my future?"

"I'm afraid not." Hetta told him helplessly. "The spirits are usually able to read one's fate and pass it on to me, but they can't read something that hasn't been laid out by destiny or the gods. Since neither have no control over your fate, the spirits have nothing to read."

"Can your ancestors' spirits help us locate Yrinn and the blood elves?"

"I may be able to help you there." The old witch quickly scooped the tiny bones into her hands, shook them up a bit, and then cast them back down onto the table. "Oh my!" She gasped, her expression growing worried. "I see deception at every turn. The blood elves will stop at nothing to prevent you from disrupting their plans." She frowned, causing her already deep wrinkles to deepen even further. "And I see treachery. Treachery most foul. There are other reasons that you were brought here, reasons that have nothing at all to do with the followers of Hetris."

"What do you mean? Who has other reasons?"

"I cannot say." The old witch shook her head. "There are too many minds behind the treachery. All I know is that someone has other reasons for wanting you here, reasons which have nothing to do with blood elves." She peered closer at the bones. "I also see the tree city of Oakenvale. There is someone there that can help you in your quest to locate Yrinn."

"Who?"

"I'm not certain. There seems to be a fog of confusion which surrounds them." Hetta frowned. "But you'll know them when you meet them."

"Do you see anything else?"

The old witch stared at the bones for another moment, and then shook her head again. "Nothing. I'm afraid that's all I can tell you. I hope it helps you with your search."

"It's more than we previously had to go on." Damion told her, producing a small pouch of coins from his belt and placing it onto the table before the elderly elven woman. "Thank you for your hospitality, Hetta, and for your help." He started to rise to his feet, but paused when the old witch held up one hand.

"We're not finished yet, Dragon Lord." She informed him, motioning for him to retake his seat. "That was just my attempt to read your future. I still need to give you the message that the spirits wished me to convey."

"And what message is that?" Damion asked, dropping back down into his seat.

Hetta stared at him for a long moment, then closed her eyes, and drew in a deep shuddering breath. "What you have done, cannot be undone." She told him in a voice that suddenly sounded as though a chorus of hundreds were speaking the same words through her mouth. "The path that you travel will only lead to destruction. The only hope to restore the balance that has been upset, is for you to make the sacrifice that you have always known that you would have to make. Only then can the balance be restored."

Other books

Death of a Nurse by M. C. Beaton
Always by Lynsay Sands
Zip by Ellie Rollins
The Leopard Sword by Michael Cadnum
Trickery by Sabrina York
Smuggler's Lair by Virginia Henley
Three Wishes by Deborah Kreiser
Armadillo by William Boyd
Between Dusk and Dawn by Lynn Emery