Dreamer: The Eighth Key book 1

A Mouse in the witches den

Grumbling, the Fai stomped over towards the barn, where he had every intention of starting to bundle the wood up into his arms. After all, that old biddy was not going to let him back in without it, and he wanted to hurry. The thought of Diraimeir being alone with her did not sit well with him.

  Bending over low over the woodpile stacked up against the old barn, he caught a putrid scent. Foul and metallic, originating from within the derelict building. All he needed to do was lean in just a little bit to be able to peer inside from one of the many holes in the patched siding. With the last rays of the sun behind his back, hard-won light trickled into the building. It was just enough for Tathlyn to spy a mass off in the farthest corner. But it still wasn’t enough. It was too hard for him to see what it was yet, but Tathlyn got a bad feeling about it. Like everything else, it was out of place.

The Fai pried open the misshapen door with a great deal of effort, stalking forward as dread seeped into his very core. He found bodies. Maybe six in all. Judging by their remarkable condition, they had been killed as recently as four days prior. The observations from before flooded back into Tathlyn like an angry torrent of floodwater. I knew it. Everything made sense now. “Diraimeir!” He cried out, bee-lining toward the building.

How could I have been so stupid? He knew from the get-go they should have gone on their merry way and yet… I can’t believe I left that kid in the hands of that witch. I knew better than that. Just hold on, kid. I’m coming.

Tathlyn threw himself at the door so hard that it came off its hinges, and he fell straight through it. None too soon either. There the little nymph was, on the floor with a spilled glass of liquid near his hand, and that retched harpy over him. She was about to plunge a dagger into his chest and pluck out his heart. And what did Tathlyn do? He lunged at her, hitting her as hard as he could with his already aching body and wrestled the blade away from her. It was not easy to get that blasted thing either. She slashed at him with hellish fury as she cackled.

“What is he doing! Ignorant elf! Uatugy needs this heart for her own! She NEEDS IT!” She insisted, starting to claw at him with her other hand. There was not a snowballs chance in Bardridor Thatlyn would let her get away with this.

So those farmers hadn’t been enough? “You can’t have it!” He screamed at her, catching the blade in his hand with her next attack. His blood dripped down his arm slowly, oozing to splatter down upon Diraimeir’s unconscious face. “What did you do to him?” He demanded.

It was not a real poison intended to kill. “Uatugy needs his heart to beat still, she does. She needs it to be pried out of his chest. So Uatugy created a sedative. Yes. She will feast on it. She will eat her fill.” She told the Fai without much emotion at all.

What a disgusting creature. Only the damned commit such dark rituals and so openly. This will end here. This witch will not get her way. Tathlyn shucked the blade across the room as soon as he loosened it away from Uatugy’s clammy fingers. She was a fighter. Scratching and kicking at the Fai like a feral beast, the hag refused to relent. At this moment, it was her or them. Tathlyn stumbled on to his feet, landing a swift kick into the old bat’s stomach. She flew into the wall and, subsequently, into a lit oil lamp. Tathlyn watched in horror as Utaugy erupted into a blaze like she was made of oil and wood. Even this did not stop her from attempting to bring Tathlyn down. The Fai ducked while he scrambled to get as far away from the burning woman as he could, scooping up Diraimeir in the process to tuck him under his arm. Time to go.

The fire raged behind him, catching the old dried wood of the home with vigor. Tathlyn could no longer see the old biddy, but he could hear her cries of anguish. Not for the sake of her burning, but for the loss of the victims she nearly had in her clutches. “Stop… Poor old Utaugy. It’s not fair… It’s mine. It’s MINE!” These last words echoed after Tathlyn through the approaching twilight and cut straight through it. Then silence. Even the creatures of the night would not dare to utter a sound with such evil so near. Is nowhere safe?

Diraimeir was too cumbersome to hold on to the Fai. As the boy’s world faded in and out with each labored breath, Tathlyn mounted their trusted mare after pushing the boy up on to her saddle first. He was fortunate. He must have had only had a little of the laced drink. That’s all it would take to make him sluggish. I would hate to imagine what it would have been like if he had a full glass. Or if I hadn’t gotten to him in time. I won’t make such a mistake again. It was his job to protect the Illitar. The oracle. The dreams in the boy’s head were too valuable. At least to Chet and anyone else who once revered the goddess before her fall.

 Tathlyn tucked Diraimeir into one of Ch’nuino’s blankets before he wrapped up his sore hand. He had to stop the bleeding, using a strip of cloth torn from his own tunic. Tathlyn ran a hand through his hair. Diraimeir was proving to be quite the handful. He shook his head as the galloped away, just like Chet.