“He respects the gods. Fear them? No. Why should he fear that which does not walk among us? Besides, he serves Ilumni. Why should he fear the brother of his god?”
“Dangerous words should the gods hear, traveler. All the gods should be feared. Anger one and our world ends.” The herder licked his lips, and peered around as if he expected something to jump from the air itself. Ryne chuckled inwardly at the man’s superstitions. When nothing happened, the herder let out a relieved breath.
Sakari gestured to the adjoining mountain. “Last time we were within the Clouds, we sought and found the Svenzar on those slopes. This time they are not there.”
“Yes. Rumor says when they could not find your master, Amuni’s Children unleashed death upon the Svenzar.” The herder’s jaw hardened as he spoke. “The Svenzar fled and called all the Sven back to the safety of Stone.”
The air about the herder shifted for a brief moment. His aura wavered before it became solid again. In that second, the man appeared different to Ryne. The herder’s body bore dirt and stone in place of his flesh.
“He’s a Sven,” Ryne said. He strode toward the man, ignoring the sudden rumble from the rockhound.
“My master will speak to you now,” Sakari said. “You should call off your pet. My master knows what you are.”
Sweat ran down the herder’s forehead. The liquid left a trail like water trickling over parched earth. He reached for his sword.
“That is not a wise choice, Sven.” Sakari’s tone never changed.
The Sven hooted to the rockhound.
With a snarl, the beast lurched into a hunched position, forepaws forward, back up, and tail rigid. Not once did Ryne look in the hound’s direction as he continued toward the Sven.
“I shall save you from yourself and my master. You will thank me one day.” Sakari turned to the rockhound.
Several hoots issued from Sakari in perfect imitation of the Sven. The hound whined and looked confused. It stared at Ryne for a moment more, then the beast stalked down the slope, slipping through grass and brush toward the evergreen tree line.
The Sven opened his mouth, and his hand touched his sword. Before he could unsheathe the weapon, Sakari’s foot thudded against the herder’s temple. The man dropped to the ground.
“I told you I would save you,” Sakari said in the same flat voice.
Ryne stood over the Sven. In the Sven’s own language, which was more musical rumbles than speech, he said, “I can see your Form, as you can see the elements within me. Drop the disguise and the pretenses. Take me to the Svenzar. They summoned me.”
The man’s aura wavered again. This time when the shift happened, his real form remained.
A creature of gray, hewn stone, with small cracks filled with soil, lay on the ground among the grass. It looked as if a stonemason had put together a life-like statue carved from myriad pieces of rock using dirt for mortar. Strong, wet earth smells drifted up from the Sven.
“How is it you speak my tongue, man of many swirls?” The Sven’s voice was a deep rumble of rhythmic thunder.
Ryne shrugged, answering in Sven. “I speak every tongue. Whether a gift or a curse, I can’t say.”
The Sven righted himself. It was not so much that he stood, as the ground writhed about his feet and under his body, until he shifted upright and like some great pillar, he grew from the earth.
“Sakari.” Ryne turned his body so he could see Mariel on the trail above.
“Yes?”
Ryne gave a subtle nod to where the woman now crouched even closer. She’d inched near enough for him to read her. Light sparkled from her aura in varying, dancing patterns. He would always remember her now. “I don’t wish for her to see any more than necessary. Send the hound after her.”
Sakari bowed and hooted several times.
The rockhound bounded out from the trees and sprang toward the woman, dirt and grass flying into the air as its powerful legs and claws propelled the beast forward. In long, leaping strides, the hound covered half the distance to Mariel before she reacted.
When she did, it was with astounding speed. Her head snapped toward the hound, and she snatched at her sword, sprinting to her left and up the hill. But the hound closed in faster still, its huge body a brown and green blur that matched the surroundings. There was no way she could escape.
Just as the beast stretched within a few feet of the fleeing woman, she turned abruptly to face it, skidding through dirt and shale, her arms windmilling with the movement. Before Mariel’s body came to a full stop, the beast pounced, its jaws stretched wide, rows of white fangs closing quickly. In the middle of her slide, Mariel pushed up, somersaulting into the air and over the onrushing rockhound. Unable to stop its momentum, it crashed to the ground with a solid stone on stone thump, kicking up dust in its wake. Mariel landed, sprinted down the hill, and disappeared below a dip in the land. With a growl, the rockhound gathered itself, shook its body, and lurched after her.
Ryne could only arch an eyebrow at the display.
A basso musical laugh echoed from the Sven who now stood nine feet tall. The stoneform grabbed his stomach in his mirth, vibrations passing through him with every rumbling peal, dirt and rock chips falling from his body. The Sven’s eyes were smiling red pits, and his mouth nothing more than a curved slit. He had no nose or ears. His entire countenance now resembled cracked marble, shiny in some places and dull in others.
“She runs well for one so small,” the Sven said between breaths.
Ryne smiled. “Come. Take me to the Svenzar.”
The Sven nodded, and his laughter subsided. As he climbed the slope, his feet trampled grass and brush in their way. The foliage sprouted upright soon after each passing step.
They followed the twisting trail for several miles, past glens and running springs. A few times, they passed roaring waterfalls that cascaded from some unseen height. Overhead, ominous thunderheads still threatened. The white cliff they soon reached soared up into the dark blanket above. Vines and moss climbed the walls, and flowers in rainbow-like colors grew in erratic patterns all along its surface. A slit showed in the cliff face.
“Pass through here. The Svenzar will meet you on the other side.” With that, the Sven touched the cliff, melting into it as if he walked through a curtain of rock.
Ryne glanced at Sakari, who shrugged. After a deep breath, Ryne stepped into the slit.
All sense of balance and direction fled him, and he felt as if he fell a great distance in the dark. The bottom of his stomach dropped.
A few moments later, they stood in water up to their ankles within an area enclosed by four cliff walls. Small pebbles and rocks lined the ground. Of the slit, no sign remained.
Ryne’s eyes widened at the sight around him. Sakari stood beside him, his face passive. Moss, lichen, and flowers carpeted the cliff faces. Birds with brilliant plumages sang and soared from wall to wall, and large insects flitted and buzzed. Thousands of feet above, waterfalls dropped from each precipice with a muffled rumble, their foamy waters ending in midair, but somehow light mist still brushed Ryne’s face.
More shocking than the sight though was what he felt. Even without his Matersense he could feel the elements buffeting around him. He knew of only two other Entoses. Never did he expect to find one here in the Nevermore Heights. How many more were there in the world?
As the thought raced through his mind, the essences grew more violent. They crashed around him in a pull so strong he almost reached out to them. In response, his lust rose in a red-hot wave and attempted to surge to the surface to greet the primordial forces. He battered the rush until it calmed into a gentle flow lapping against a distant shore. A shudder passed through him as the heat subsided.
Sakari’s hand tapping Ryne’s arm brought his focus back to what lay before them. From the opposite wall grew a gigantic granite creature. Easily three times Ryne’s height, its carved body of sharp planes stretched half as wide as it was tall and its feet disappeared beneath the waters of a calm pond, pristine white lilies floating undisturbed upon the water’s surface.