The Dry Well

Coming in November 2016

desert sandstorm

 

If you have finished reading ‘Shadows of the Trees‘ you will be asking; ‘but where is Raðenn?’

Look for the further adventures of Saranna in

The Dry Well – Coming next in the Skorn series from Eluth Publishing

desert_city_by_gamefan84 Possible Sen-Mar
This image by gamefan84 gives some impression of the approach to the Northgate of Sen-Mar

The Dry Well  is a sequel to Shadows of the Trees. It is set in IssKor, a desert land in the south, where a cruel and oppressive priesthood hides the secret of the dry well and the silent god from the people.   Behind the Temple Walls …..

temple wall

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Dry Well; Prologue

 

There was burning sand beneath his feet.  Light speared upward from the sand, a blue shimmer obscured the horizon and a yellow glare wavered overhead.  He looked down, trying to move rapidly to ease the burning of his feet.  But he fell, scorching his hands and knees.

He began to crawl forward, but found no shade.  His tears dried up, his lips were cracked and sore.  Sand stung his face; he whimpered.  He fell into darkness.

Dreaming of coolness beneath island trees, he strove to see the face of the woman who turned away from him.  He thought she was weeping.  In the dream, water sounds were everywhere; the swooshing of waves upon the shore, the splashing of fountains and waterfalls.  He plodded towards a deep brown pool beneath a cliff face straggled with fern.  The woman was gone.  He could not reach the water. 

A rough hand grasped his hair and a warm trickle dampened his stretched lips.  A cracked voice hissed in his ear, ‘Look at me, destroyer. Look at me.’

 He opened his eyes and the sun blazed into them. Turning his head he saw an old woman’s face close to his.  She laughed softly and tilted against his lips a small glass bottle.  He swallowed the precious drops of moisture greedily.  He tried to speak, but the old woman was chanting, crooning, closing her eyes and swaying while she pulled his hair viciously with one hand and in the other gripped the ancient bottle. 

‘I want more,’ he whispered.

The old one opened her eyes; her song was ended.  Dizziness swept over him and he thought the sky was turning above.  The sun dwindled away into the blue, and the face of the old woman was less and less distinct.  He made one desperate effort to twist away from her grasp, but found himself falling, falling out of the light and the heat into a place where silence wrapped around him and he lost all memory of day.