The Godling Chronicles : Bundle - Books 1-3 Page 17

  Finally, he got up and walked off into the night, careful not to wake her. He closed his eyes and breathed the cold air into his lungs.

  Remembering Kaylia’s lessons, he focused his mind on the darkness that surrounded him. The trees in this part of the hills were thick and numerous, so Gewey decided to practice moving through the shadows.

  It wasn’t long before he had forgotten Dina and lost himself in his training. The darkness opened itself up to him, showing him where to hide, how to move, and where to strike.

  “You move like an elf,” said a voice from behind him. Gewey spun around and saw a thin, old man dressed in animal skins and holding a gnarled tree branch as a walking stick. His long gray hair was tangled and unkempt, and his wiry beard fell down his chest. Gewey, realizing that he had left his sword back at the fire, took a quick step backwards.

  “Who are you?” he stammered.

  “The spirits tell me that you are something special,” the old man answered. “I wanted to see for myself.”

  “Spirits?” Gewey asked. “What spirits?”

  “They tell me you need my help,” he continued, as if Gewey hadn’t spoken. “Yes they do. They tell me things. Things you should know. Things you shouldn’t. They’re very clever.”

  “Tell me who you are,” Gewey demanded. “What do you want?”

  “He asks what we want, he does. What could we want? Nothing, that’s what. We have all we need. But you want something, don’t you? You want something very badly. Don’t worry. No, don’t you worry. You’ll have it. Yes indeed you will. I’ll give it.”

  “What will you give me?” Gewey asked, confused.

  “No, not yet,” said the old man. “Not now, but soon. Very soon.”

  The old man turned and walked away, disappearing behind a nearby tree. Gewey chased after him, but he was nowhere to be found. He searched for over an hour, but to no avail. It was as if the old man had vanished like a puff of smoke.

  When he went back to the camp, he woke Dina and told her what had happened.

  “Did he say anything else?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he answered.

  Dina thought for a while. “I don’t know,” she said finally. “The Spirit Hills are said to be an odd place - haunted even - but I’ve never heard of anything like this.”

  “What should we do?” Gewey wondered.

  “What can we do?” she replied. “I say we get some rest and see what happens. It doesn’t sound like whoever it was is finished with you, but I don’t see how we can do anything about that.”

  The next day, Gewey and Dina hardly spoke a word. The Spirit Hills seemed to be living up to their name; Gewey held tight to his sword, ready to strike at every snap of a twig, while Dina continually looked back and forth over her shoulder as if expecting to see ghosts emerge from every shadow. As they moved deeper into the hills, Gewey could feel the air becoming thicker. By mid-afternoon he was struggling to breathe.

  “We’re being watched,” Dina whispered.

  “From where?” Gewey asked.

  “Everywhere,” she replied. “I can feel their eyes on us.”

  Suddenly, a voice came from behind them. “Eyes, you say?” Gewey’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest. It was the old man. He was sitting on the ground under a tree they had just passed.

  “Not eyes,” said the old man. His voice was mirthful, and he was still wearing his animal skins. His walking stick lay across his lap. “No, not eyes. But they see you. Of course they do.”

  “Who sees us?” asked Gewey. “Who’s out there?”

  The old man laughed heartily. “A child of heaven you are,” said the old man to Gewey. “You walk the Spirit Hills. They see you. They love you. They want you to stay. But you mustn’t. No, no. They’ll keep you for themselves. But I’ll keep them away. Yes, I’ll threaten to leave them, I will. Leave them alone. No more old man Felsafell to talk to.”

  “Is that your name?” Gewey asked. “Felsafell?”

  “Yes, my name,” he answered. “I’m at your service. I’ll tell you what you seek to know. But first, you come. We sit and talk. So long since I’ve heard other voices. Welcome they are, to tired ears and blurry eyes.”

  Felsafell grabbed his walking stick and hopped to his feet. He walked past Gewey and Dina, beckoning them to follow. They looked at each other, confused.

  “You mustn’t fear,” Felsafell assured them. “I mean no harm. The spirits will obey. They’ll leave you be. Come along now, quickly. An old man must eat and rest.”

  Reluctantly, Gewey and Dina followed. Felsafell led them through the hills and valleys for over an hour, until Gewey knew he was hopelessly lost. Finally, as they rounded one of the larger hills, they saw Felsafell’s house.

  It looked as if it were built entirely of small twigs and grass. There were two windows covered by cloth curtains, but there was no glass.

  Smoke rose from a chimney atop the steep thatched roof, and the air was filled with the scent of bread and meat. A small porch stretched from the front of the house, with three wicker chairs lined up beneath one of the windows.

  “We’re here, my friends,” said Felsafell. “Come in. Take food and rest. The spirits are quiet now. They are indeed.”

  Felsafell opened the door and showed them in. The interior was simple, much like Gewey’s own home. The walls were lined with tools and animal skins. In the fireplace was a spit where a wild pig slowly roasted. On the table were two large jugs and a loaf of fresh bread. Two beds sat in the corner of the room. A bedroll lay on the ground next to the fireplace.

  “Sit and eat,” Felsafell instructed. “Time for talk when our bellies are full. Sit and rest.”

  Gewey and Dina sat at the table while Felsafell ran to the corner and brought back three cups. He filled the cups with cider, then went to the roasting pig and began cutting off large slices and putting them on a platter.

  “A simple meal of meat and bread,” said Felsafell as he brought the platter to the table and sat down. “No fancy things, you know. But I have all that is needed.”

  “Thank you,” said Gewey graciously. “Roast pig and bread is most welcome.”

  Felsafell smiled broadly, showing a mouthful of crooked teeth.

  “Too kind,” he said. “I’ll try hard to speak as men do. So long with the ghosts and spirits. No voice but old Felsafell’s to keep me company.”

  “How long have you been here?” asked Dina, tearing off a piece of bread.

  “Questions later, dear friends,” Felsafell replied. “Questions after food and rest. An old man can travel far, but not forever. No he can’t.”

  After they ate, Felsafell poured a cup of cherry wine from the second jug and passed it around. For a while he closed his eyes, humming softly and holding the cup in both hands. Gewey noticed the light through the window beginning to dim as evening drew near.

  “Time for rest,” said Felsafell. “You take the beds. Old Felsafell sleeps by the fire. But don’t you worry. We will speak before the dawn.”

  Dina and Gewey lay down in the beds, which were remarkably soft and comfortable. Felsafell lay down on the bedroll in front of the fire and was fast asleep in seconds.

  “What do you think?” Gewey whispered. “Is he crazy?”

  “Maybe,” Dina answered. “But I don’t think he’s dangerous. Still, we should be wary.”

  Gewey nodded in agreement. He tried to stay awake, but it wasn’t long before a full stomach and a soft bed got the better of him.

  “Rested enough my friend,” said Felsafell, shaking Gewey softly. “Time for questions. Time for answers.”

  Felsafell walked across the room and opened the front door. “On the porch we’ll talk. All your answers are out here.”

  Gewey heard Felsafell walk across the porch and sit in one of the chairs. He took a deep breath and got out of bed. Dina was still sleeping soundly. He approached the open door and peered outside. Felsafell was seated, smoking a pipe and gazing into the night.


  “Time for answers, child of heaven,” he said.

  Chapter 15

  Gewey pulled out a chair across from Felsafell and sat down. The old man had a quirky smile. The pipe filled the night air with a sweet odor that reminded Gewey of his father, who had himself smoked a pipe on occasion. “It’s answers you seek,” Felsafell began. “Yet you don’t know all the questions.”

  “Why did you call me ‘child of heaven’?” asked Gewey. “What do you know about me?”

  “I know many things. The spirits are clever. They share with old Felsafell the things they know. Yes, they do indeed. They say the earthbound son of two shepherds comes to visit. They say he needs to know things. Things known by none.”

  “What do I need to know?” Gewey asked impatiently.

  “Your strength,” Felsafell replied. “You do not know it. From the earth it comes, and there you’ll find it. Your father left it there.”

  “My father? Do you know who he is?”

  Felsafell nodded. “A farmer, of course. Just like you. He left his land in your care. Search the earth and find your strength.”

  “I don’t understand,” Gewey said. “Where exactly should I search?”

  “Old Felsafell is not the source,” he answered. “The spirits are a tricky lot. What they say may not be what they mean. But more there is to tell before the dawn greets us. Though dawn is not what it used to be.”

  “Tell me, then,” Gewey urged him.

  Felsafell smiled. “Of course, the young are always full of haste. But hurry you must, for the darkness comes. It closes the eyes and deafens the ears. The spirits fear it will be their end. They see as their doom approaches.”

  “You’re talking about the Dark Knight. What do you know about him?”

  “The Cold One in his castle,” Felsafell continued. “He wants you. And he will have you. By his power you will fall. But fall you must, to open your eyes.”

  “You mean I’m beaten?” Gewey cried out. “I lose?”

  “Beaten, yes,” Felsafell affirmed.

  Gewey’s face dropped in despair. “What’s the point of all this if I can’t win? Why even tell me?”

  “Now you know,” said Felsafell. “You know what you didn’t. Will you stop? I think you will not. But more to tell before the dawn greets us. Would you hear it?”

  Gewey sighed and looked up at the old man. “Yes, I’ll hear it.”

  “Your friends are true,” he declared. “But be warned. One will leave this world. The one who is bravest will give all. This friend will save you with courage and love.”

  “Who will die?” Gewey demanded. “Tell me.”

  “I know not. If the spirits know, they refuse to say.”

  “But they must,” Gewey said in anguish. “You have to make them.”

  “I cannot,” he replied. “Love me they do indeed. I stay with them and talk to them when others flee. But I am not master here.”

  “Is there anything I can do?” begged Gewey.

  “There’s always something to be done,” he answered. “But change what is to be? I cannot say. The spirits are clever, but they only see. They do not push and pull the world as men and elves. But more there is to tell before dawn greets us. It comes soon, and as it comes, you must go.”

  “Tell me then,” Gewey said, “do my friends still live?”

  “Good news I have for you. Indeed they live, but be warned: the child of two worlds and the child of one. Their future is uncertain. By your words, you will see one live or die. You must see this approach before time runs out.”

  “I don’t understand,” Gewey implored.

  “You will when the time is right. Some secrets are not for me to tell. But soon enough you’ll see your friends. They wait for you.”

  “Where are they?”

  “They’re not far,” he said. “You need not search. They will find you. Take comfort. There is one more thing to tell that you must hear. The dawn is saying hello, and your time with old Felsafell is at an end.”

  Gewey leaned forward. “What is it?”

  “Before the time when good and evil take up arms, you must decide. To seek the friendship of your mother’s child, or leave to fate that child’s future.”

  “My mother?” Gewey exclaimed. “My mother didn’t have any other children. First, you tell me a friend will die saving me, and then you ramble on about my mother. You know what I think? I think you’re just a crazy old man.”

  Gewey got up and stormed off the porch. He stopped after a few yards and gazed toward the forest. The dawn light was beginning to filter through the trees, revealing a light mist that covered the surrounding hills.

  “Old, for sure,” Felsafell called out, laughing. “Crazy, yes. But that changes nothing. No, it does not. You know what I say is no lie. Deny it as you wish; it matters not to me. My time nears its end and old bones will rest at last. But come inside and take repast. You must go before the dawn turns to day.”

  Gewey stifled his anger and followed Felsafell inside. Dina was just waking. Gewey thought she looked beautiful as she sat up and stretched her arms.

  “Good morning,” she said. “You slept well, I hope?”

  “Yes,” Gewey replied. “But we need to get moving soon. I think I’ve had enough of this place.”

  Dina looked concerned. “Did something happen?”

  “Nothing important,” Gewey answered. “But I want to get out of these hills by tomorrow.”

  Felsafell had already laid out two bowls of porridge and cups of water. “Eat first,” he insisted. “But eat fast. You must go if you would see your friends.”

  Gewey and Dina ate breakfast and gathered their packs. As they left the cottage, Felsafell handed each of them a loaf of bread and a few slices of roast pork wrapped in cloth. They thanked him, though Gewey was still clearly upset by their conversation.

  “Head west from here,” Felsafell instructed. “The path you find will lead you safely away. Farewell.”

  Gewey nodded but said nothing more before setting off in the direction Felsafell had told them. Dina followed close behind, humming sweetly.

  “What’s that song?” asked Gewey. “It sounds familiar.”

  “I doubt you know it,” she said. “My mother sang it to me when I was very young.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “She died when I was a small girl,” she said sadly. “I don’t remember much about her.”

  “I’m sorry,” Gewey replied. “My mother died when I was young, too.”

  “No sad talk this morning,” she said, smiling brightly. “Did the old man talk to you?”

  “Yes,” Gewey said, shaking his head. “Turns out he was just a crazy old man.”

  “Really? I’m not so sure. There’s something about him.”

  “Did he speak to you?” Gewey asked.

  Dina nodded. “He woke me up in the middle of the night while you were still sleeping. He knew things - things nobody else knows.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Nothing I want to tell right now,” she answered. “Some of his words were troubling, and I would prefer to have a pleasant morning.”

  “I agree,” Gewey said. He tried to put it out of his mind, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what Felsafell had told him. He would fall to the power of the Dark Knight. Even worse, one of his friends would die. He swore he wouldn’t let that happen.

  They found the trail Felsafell had told them about and headed south. The rest of the day was uneventful. Gewey kept their conversation light, saying nothing of his talk with the old man. The trail seemed to defy the rugged terrain, staying level and smooth, and by the evening they had managed to cover many miles. They decided not to camp and instead continued on; they were both still remarkably full of energy. Gewey attributed it to sleeping in a soft bed and eating a hearty breakfast, but Dina told him she thought it was the spirits urging them on.

  “I think they’re trying to help us,” she remarked. “It’s almost like they’re g
iving me strength.”

  “I don’t know,” said Gewey. “But I do feel rested.”

  “At your age, you should always feel rested,” she teased.

  “How old are you?” Gewey snapped. “You can’t be much older than I am.”

  “You’d be surprised,” she laughed. “I’m older than I look.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “No it’s not,” she said with a wry smile. “But you never ask a lady her age.”

  The night air was near freezing, but Gewey and Dina didn’t seem to notice. They walked cheerfully down the trail, talking and laughing.

  Daybreak came and went, and still neither of them felt any hint of fatigue. They were nearing the southern end of the Spirit Hills, and Dina guessed that the road leading west to the hillside village of Vine Run was less than half a day away.

  “Once we reach the road, it’s a straight shot to the village,” Dina explained. “If we hurry, we should get there by midday tomorrow.”

  This lifted Gewey’s spirits. He hoped Lee would be waiting in the village so he could talk to him about what Felsafell had said.

  By noon they had reached the road and headed west. The path was cut straight through the hills, and spanned as wide as thirty feet in some places. As they traveled, Gewey saw immense stone carvings of ancient kings lining the road. Some of these stood more than twenty feet high. They sat down to eat in the shadow of one of these massive carvings.

  “Do you know who put them here?” Gewey asked.

  “This is the Old Road of Santismal,” Dina stated. “Long ago this was the heart of a great kingdom, and this road cut right through the middle of it. It’s said that the Kingdom of Santismal was the richest and most powerful the world had ever seen.”

  “What happened to it?” he asked, gazing at the weathered statue.

  “Some say war, others say famine.” Dina shrugged. “No one really knows. All that’s left are a few scattered ruins and this road. Some parts are still paved in stone, but most of it has been washed away by time.”

  Gewey marveled at the thought of a massive paved road and the work it must have taken to build it, not to mention the effort it would take to transport the statues.