Darkin: The Prophecy of the Key (The Darkin Saga Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

it. “And the ghost, you saw it in your kitchen, you were saying…”
    “No, I heard the noise in my kitchen. When I came into the kitchen there was nothing there but a great mess—my flour had been spilled, along with my milk, all over the floor. Pieces of grainloaf were scattered; it was terrible. Then, from the corner of my eye, I caught him. Saw him through my kitchen window—running away through the meadow, faster than a horse I’ll reckon. He’d already taken off—must have known about Melthang coming to have a piece of him.”
    “Thank you Mr. Grames! And there you have it, good folk of Rislind. Is there any need for more accounts? I think not, and that we should decide upon our course of action now,” the mayor said, ushering the unwilling Crumpet off the stage.
    “Yea!” the unified crowd roared.
     
    The rest of the day Mayor Doings collaborated with the other respected elders of the village, deciding the best course of action to take. Even though there were some who still didn’t believe the ghost stories, and put it down as senility on the part of those who had seen it, the overwhelming consensus was to make a small party of the strongest fighters and send them into the woods at night by torchlight, as soon as possible. Pursaiones had objected, stating that she believed they should wait and see if the sightings continued, or if any harmful intent was detected of the ghost—but her objection was shot down quickly by those who remembered the days of the kidnappings by Zesm the Rancor, over seventeen years earlier.
    Against their wills, Taisle and Pursaiones were set to lead the party into the woods, as soon as the sun waned and the moons rose. The decision had been made by Doings that another night of waiting was a gamble he was not willing to take with his citizens’ lives. There were seven chosen to head into the forest at dusk, each among the most respected of Rislind’s militia. The day carried on with an eerie sense of foreboding, and many wondered if anything at all would come of the trip into the foothills; still others wandered if the party would come back alive.
    The sun fell much too fast for the citizens of Rislind, and as dusk settled upon the secluded meadow, a heightened grip of fear could be felt, perpetuated by the stories of Crumpet Grames and Bellawart Brewboil. At last, Mayor Doings congregated with the party of chosen adventurers, preparing to watch them depart from the gate of the village. Some of the crowd from the morning gathered to watch, but many locked themselves inside their homes, as Mayor Doings had advised.
    “Good luck brave Rislind warriors! We trust in your valor to vanquish this demon spirit once and for all!” Doings said.
    “I would want that as much as you, but don’t get your hopes very high, Mayor Doings—I don’t expect to see anything tonight,” Taisle replied. The party of seven mounted their waiting steeds, each strapped with an unlighted torch, and set off over the several acres of flowering meadow that separated the isolated town gates from the edge of the Northerly Foothills. Night fell, and the Rislind range overtook the horizon as they rode hard and fast toward its dim wooded edge. It wasn’t long before they reached the line of the forest, where the meadow began to slope gradually up, a path to the first trail.
    “Alright then, let’s get this over,” Taisle commanded, and Pursaiones led them into the woods.
     

IV: THE LAST FREE CITY OF HEMLIN
     
    Krem sat with his friends as Erguile led the gathered warriors through an homage to Gaigas for the food they were about to eat. It had been over a month since the emergency meeting of the Grand Council in Erol Drunne. The star had been the matter of discussion then, but in the recent weeks its importance had been thrust aside, as news that Zesm had begun an invasion into Arkenshyr’s northern neighbor, Hemlin, had traveled across the Kalm Ocean.
    The matter of the growing star was forgotten, as