The Foretold
an excerpt

Greeley stood in the shadows, her back pressed tightly against the cold bite of the castle wall as she concentrated her thoughts on those of the voice of the terrain. Her natural born talents to commune with nature were weak since leaving the Gilded Wood, but still strong enough that with just a little concentration she’d been able to open an alternative entrance into subbasement of the castle proper to allow her friend easy access to the treasures hidden below.

As with any time she used her abilities, forcing nature to do things other than what it was so inclined to do, what it was already doing, was usually a difficult endeavor. If her concentration wavered too much, her entrance would close and she’d be unable to open another. It seemed that the natural world and the areas surrounding it only allowed a certain amount of persuasion before pushing back at the one trying to persuade it. If her alternate entrance closed, she’d not be able to open another around it. Sebastian would be trapped inside the castle deep inside the confined of its walls.

So, she kept her eyes stayed focused on the ground before her. She dared not peer into the dark expanse her impromptu hole in the ground or her companion deep within its dark recesses.

By his estimation, the item for which he searched should not have been far past the outer walls. Greeley had created a tunnel for him that sloped down, under and then back up, into what the pair hoped was the room he needed and not into, say, the sleep chambers of the little cities military.

She strained her small ears hoping that her fine hearing would catch the sound of him. Nothing. Not even the scrap of his boots on stone. She glanced down at the tiny communication link on her leather jacket. It’s green glow told her that it was active and the line between them was open and clear. Yet, she heard not a peep.

His lack of noise was a good thing, she conceded. It was just unsettling not know where, exactly, he was in their effort to procure the little item that was well hidden in the deep folds of the ancient cavern.

She sighed deeply but silently as she wondered, and not for the first time, how she’d come to be partners with a career thief. A career thief who also happened to be a human. She loathed humans. With there short lives, short tempers, and disrespect for the natural world around them they were a savage race with little to offer the planet around him

The human part, he couldn’t help, she knew but the rest of it was completely his choice of paths. He would be the death of her, she knew, but she was powerless to stop herself from helping him, from protecting him. He would be the death of her and would most likely smile the whole while, irritating her even at her very end.

Why he’d needed to do this deed just as the sun rose, she didn’t know. When she’d questioned it his only response was, “Why not?” She just hoped that he’d finish quickly, before her hiding place of shadows faded with the rising sun and exposed her for the entire little village to see.

It’s not like she was easy to hide. With her dark hiding place becoming smaller and smaller, her large frame would soon be exposed for all the world to see. She was a creature of the wood, and blended well, inherently with nature, but even she could not deny that with her green hair and seven feet of height, she stuck out like a bellowing dwarf in the middle of fairyland while in this land of the humans. Especially since she was hiding in the back end of the castle next to a hole that had previous not exsisted.

A loud resounding thump resonated to her through the tunnel and through her comm. link. It was followed by the harsh whispered echo of, “Bloody hell!” Both noises had her off the wall and almost to the entrance before she could stop herself. The entrance she created shuddered with her wavering concentration before she remembered her place and stepped back into the shadows. She quickly refocused her will and pulled her thoughts back to the task at hand. Her creation wavered still as the ground fought her to regain itself, but with a hard push of mental energy, she held it in place.

Though she knew he would have called for her if he had been in need, she couldn’t prevent a quiet whisper to him, just for reassurance while keeping her mind focused on his escape route. “Farewell, Sebastian?”

“Don’t mind me, love,” came his soft reply from the distance. “Just keep that door open. I’d not like to be suck in here.” His voice told her that he was, of course, not concerned. It remained, as always, cheery as it was commanding.
Had she been able to see him, she would have known in an instant that he was anything but cheery. He fought back the urge to cough despite another cloud of dust that puffed out around him, filling his nose and throat, threatening to choke the air from his lungs. He’d made enough noise to wake the dead as he struggled to open the damn thing. It was a wonder that the castle guard didn’t come bursting through. Greeley’s strength would have been useful at that moment, but she had other things to attend to.

He frowned and grimaced at his now dusty clothing and swore quiet profanely to anyone who happened to have the ability to read his thoughts. If someone had been reading his mind, at that moment, they would have blushed at his words.

Who would have thought that treasures such as these, even in a substandard castle such as this, would be left under what appeared to be, hundreds of years of dust. You’d think nobility would take better care of their items.
He needed to hurry along, so he ignored his sullied clothing, and redoubled his efforts. Things would have gone along much faster, but Greeley had refused to enter the underground chamber. She’d muttered something about disturbing the items of the dead and sacrilege as he’d entered the old place, but he hadn’t paused for clarification. Time was of the essence. He wanted to get in, get the item, and get out.

The only problem was, he couldn’t find the damn thing.

The information he’d paid dearly for was greatly lacking it seemed. From what he’d been told, the gem should have been inside the heavy stone box that he’d almost taken his toes off with. Once the dust had settled and an assurance that all his lowest digits were still in place he had nothing for his troubles.

There were other treasures about. A necklace here in a dirt-matted case. A fine sword there, its metal dull in the torchlight and layer of grim. The city wasn’t a big one, its lands not even big enough to warrant a place on most maps. Its lack of gold, jewels and other pretty things was really quite sad.
“Damn,” he whispered soft enough to forgo an echo.

“Make haste. The day dawns and my control weakens with each moment,” Greeley’s voice came from his link. It didn’t echo but it startled him enough to make him jump a little. He’d much rather talk to her face to face than have this whispered conversations over the annoying, albeit useful device. Better yet, he would have really liked to have her in the hole with him to help speed his search and cushion the sounds of it.

“Patience. It’s a virtue, you know,” he whispered back, with several fading echoes for his effort. His frown deepened with each repetition of his voice on his ears. At this rate the entire castle would wake and come see what all the fuss was about. And where would that leave him.

Preferring not to spend, even a moment, in the castle dungeon he quickly scanned the small room, looking for hiding places previously unnoticed. Immediately, nothing caught his attention. As he looked around the state of the treasure room he wondered if the dungeon would fair any better.

He shuddered at the thought and looked around the room. “I’ll skin that liar alive for this lie,” he promised himself and that soon to be sorry, Rotock of Felisize. “Guaranteed coin my ass.”

“Sebastian?” the voice over the comm. asked.

“Alls well, just conversing with myself. Since someone refused to accompany me. Don’t mind my lonely ramblings.”

Just as he’d given up hope and turned to leave the ever-pressing weight of the castle over his head and all around him, he spotted it.

“Clever,” he muttered. “Who knew that farming bumpkins could be so clever?” He bent low to examine the large stone on which the large box he’d opened had sat on. It was unremarkable, covered with several inches of thick dust, and the perfect spot to hide a precious gem.

He ran a hand over the front of the stone, pushing away the blanket of dust to reveal a thin almost imperceptible crack. Pulling a dagger from his boot he worked that crack until it he found what he was looking for. A keyhole. Maybe not a real keyhole, but it mattered not to the thief.

From a pack on his thigh he pulled out the tools of his trade, tiny little tools only useful in the hands of a good thief. Seconds later and the tiny hidden chamber slid open and presented him its reward.

Before reaching in to pluck out his prize, he wiped his hands on his soft pants, for once not caring of the dirty and grim. He just hadn’t the heart to touch a thing of such beauty with hands covered in filth. Now, to him, that was sacrilegious. With clean hands he finally held the bright stone.

As the stone warmed in his hands to began to glow with a soft light. In the dim of his torchlight it sparked with an inner fire. He turned it over and over, marveling in its color. A fire red, orange the color of the setting sun, yellow so bright it hurt his eyes to behold. He concentrated on it and it pulsated with an inner life. So sunstones really did exist? And they really obeyed the thoughts of its hold? Interesting.

He stared at it too long it seemed and had forgotten to breath.

“Sebastian? The time is now. The ground resists my command. You must retreat!” Greeley’s words snapped him from his trance. He took a deep shuddering breath, blinked his drying eyes and sprinted the many yards to the steep hole he’d climbed down just twenty minutes.

Without a thought, bent low he crawled on his hands and knees through the rabbit hole Greeley had created for him. More aptly a thief’s hole at this point.
Ignoring the dirt under his nails and the grass that was staining his knees he climbed quickly as possible on his hands and knees. In the wake of his new source of light, still clutched in one hand, his torch still lay now and forever, were he’d placed it upon entering the place. No matter. It would burn itself out eventually without additional fuel or anything to combust since it seemed that no one had ventured into that room in quite some time. There was no fear of wild fire in the cold, dark, musky room in the ground. There was no immediate fear of discovery either, it seemed.

Just as his feet pulled clear, or possibly the instant before, Greeley released her hold on the land that she strained to control. The hole collapsed in on itself. Actually collapse didn’t aptly describe it.

The hole swelled up and out, a fountain of stone, rock, dark ground and roots. It swelled and pulsated with an unseen life before falling in on itself with an eerie beauty. Even in its complete silence, Sebastian swore he could hear the booming noise of stone, earth, root and grass as it fell back into place, resettling back into flawless perfection. No one would know the place had been touched so perfect the ground lay again.

Sebastian turned to congratulate his Gaihm friend on her wonderful talents and share with her his prize, when her sharp intake of breath snapped his head to her, his free hand ripping his gun from his holster, swiveling quickly, his gun leading as he in anticipation of an unseen attack. Instead he saw Greeley’s wide in shock as she stared at him. He lowered his weapon, hand still gripping it, unsure of his safety just yet.

He frowned at her in confusion and mild concern as Greeley’s bright green eyes looking at him in unbridled anger. “Is that it?” she asked her voice deadly calm as she stared down at Sebastian, her hand hovering dangerously close to the hilt of her sword.

“I should end you now, bury you and that stone back where you found it.”