The Marenon Chronicles Collection

Chapter Twenty-Seven





Saul traced the outline of the dragon imprinted on his wrist. The symbol meant everything to him. It meant that he was a part of something that would change the land forever. The Dunarians didn’t even know what kind of plot had been crafted against them. They had done well in the war against the Stühocs seventeen years before, but now the Stühocs were bringing everything they had. The plan started and ended with the seven Sleepers and he was proud to be one of them. He knew he was a possessed Human, but it didn’t bother him. In fact, it gave him great satisfaction. Most people didn’t understand what true possession was. Most thought that if one was possessed, that there was no more control over the actions or the body. This wasn’t true. Saul could make any decision he wanted. His possession allowed him to believe in a true cause, but most of all it opened his mind to the voice. Whatever was left of the old Saul before his possession was gone. He didn’t even remember most of his former self. He knew his spirit was still alive, but it wanted nothing more than to please the Stühoc Possessor. He was now Human and Stühoc. The voice inside his head gave him direction, told him what his next move should be. He didn’t remember where the voice came from, but he listened to it without question. It almost felt like a sixth sense, but more tangible, like someone else was in his mind at all times. Like he was possessed. Saul smiled.

After he had followed Silas and his group to the Gatekeeper’s old house on Blue Gate Mountain, he knew his mission would be better spent simply following the boy rather than just trying to kill him. Seeing him there confirmed that Silas’ quest for the Gatekeeper had begun. He knew Silas would find the Gatekeeper eventually and that he would lead Saul to him as well. Now, instead of tracking them down separately, he knew he could take out both Silas and the Gatekeeper at once.

But he might need help.

Though the Gatekeeper was weakening, that did not mean that his strength was completely diminished. The man was still powerful and Saul would have trouble defeating him by himself. The dragon that Saul rode wouldn’t be much help either. Maroke’s dragon hadn’t helped him in Mudavé.

He looked back at the creature that sat idly behind him, just on the other side of the hill. The dumb thing had nearly gotten him caught when flying over the Gated Passage, but he had been able to dive out of the Erellen’s sights quick enough. The dragon wasn’t known for its stealth.

He looked down at the wristband that had been given to him a long time ago. He hated the thing. Though he was one of the seven Sleepers, he still had to report to someone. As he sat on the hill overlooking the valley below him, his thoughts focused on the person he wanted to contact. He didn’t want the face to appear in front of him, so he kept his concentration at a minimum. Voice only.

“What is it?” The voice asked harshly.

“I’ve got the boy in my sight,” Saul said. “He’s with the girl, and they’re walking to a shack at the end of the valley. I think it’s the Gatekeeper’s.”

“Good,” the voice said. “Don’t make a move. We’ll bring a dragon.”

“I don’t need you to come,” Saul said.

“Going it alone didn’t work for you too well earlier did it? When you tried to kill Silas in the forest?”

Saul reached up and placed a hand on his aching left arm. Silas’ magical arrow had gone clean through. Saul had been surprised when he had reached to pull the arrow out and it suddenly disappeared from his arm. Nothing remained but the wound, bloody and torn. It had been days and Saul had tried to keep the wound from infection, but he felt it needed more attention.

“How long until you can get here?” Saul asked.

“We’ll be there before morning,” the voice said.

“What if they try to leave?”

“Keep following them and let us know. Otherwise, wait where you are.”

Saul took a moment to explain the valley’s location and advised him to fly in low and silent. The shack sat far away, but there was little sound in the valley, and any sort of commotion would be heard loud and clear.

Saul covered his wristband with his sleeve and sat back patiently. He hated Marcus. He hated Theron. He looked at the two of them as failures for their disastrous attempt to get the Medallion on Earth. They had been gone from Marenon for seventeen years, and when they had finally gotten the chance to catch Silas and steal the medallion, they had blown it. He didn’t need their help, but he would wait patiently. This is what the voice inside of him was telling him. Be patient. Wait for Marcus and Theron.

He shook his head. Sometimes the voice inside him went against what he thought he should be doing, but he would listen to it. He had to listen to it. The voice had told him to take off his mask in Hanzad and help Silas and the others find the way to the Dwelling Tree. It had been a big risk, but they had found the information that they needed, and now he watched them as they made their way to the shack. The risk had paid off. Now the voice was telling him to wait. Listening to the voice always paid off.

*****

Silas and Inga were both tired. They had traveled with little sleep, but the presence of Inga’s former master felt stronger than it ever had, so they continued without much rest. When they spotted the shack at the other end of the valley, they knew that he had to be there. There was no other place he could be. If it wasn’t Silandrin then they would be back at the beginning of their search, with no direction.

Inga had gone quiet for the past several hours. Silas knew it was nerves. Perhaps she was afraid to meet her old master face to face with so many unanswered questions. Maybe she was afraid this would be another dead end. Their direction had been so fleeting since the beginning. Everywhere they turned, they had run into some sort of problem, some sort of obstacle to overcome. Silas just wished that they could find the Gatekeeper and finally discover what they were to do next.

The afternoon sun was blocked by the gray, overcast sky, and the wind blowing through the valley felt damp and cold. Even in the summer months, the northern most part of Marenon could produce a biting chill. With one hand Silas used the staff of Uriah as a walking stick, and with the other he wrapped his dark cloak around him tightly. Inga also hugged her clothes around her, trying to keep warm. They would have been there much faster if they had stayed on the sarians, but Inga had wanted to walk. Silas assumed she just wasn’t ready to get there yet. Since the valley was empty of anything except grass, they quickly spotted the shack that lay far across the basin.

It was late in the afternoon by the time they made it to the hovel. From the outside it seemed abandoned, but Inga assured him that Silandrin was there. He had to be. Why else would her feelings be so strong? No smoke, no lights. The shack looked as cold as the outside air, but they knew what they had to do. They knew that it was time to face whoever was waiting for them on the inside.

Silas place a hand on Inga’s shoulder. “Do you want to wait out here for now?” he asked her.

She shook her head sharply. “No. If it is Silandrin, I know he’ll have a good reason for what he did. He has to.” She placed a trembling hand on Silas’ and squeezed. “Let’s go.”

That was all the command he needed. He was now faced with the truth that he too was scared to face what might be on the other side of that door. He could very well be learning things that he did not wish to know. He might be told that what lay before him was a path that would ultimately lead to his destruction. He had never imagined until this moment that being the Meshulan would mean that he might have to sacrifice himself. The thought made his legs freeze in place.

He sighed and took a deep breath, trying to suppress the growing pit inside his chest. One step at a time, they moved to the door. Silas took one last look at Inga, then raised his fist and knocked.

Before he had a chance to knock again, the door opened slowly and a pale, white-bearded face peered out to them.

Inga wasn’t able to suppress her shock, letting out a gasp, followed by a severe clap to her mouth to keep it shut. No matter how much she had prepared herself mentally for the sight of her former master, his appearance sent tears to her eyes.

“Inga,” the words escaped from Silandrin’s lips, barely a whisper. “Inga, what are you doing here?” He looked from her to Silas. “Oh my.”

Neither Inga, nor Silas said anything as they stared at Silandrin. They both felt stunned, not knowing what should be said. Silas decided to get to the real reason they were there in the first place.

“We’re searching for the Gatekeeper,” he said confidently.

The old man’s bushy eyebrows lowered as he looked at Silas. He swallowed hard and opened the door wider as an invitation for the two of them to enter.

“I am he.”