When Ravens Call: The Fourth Book in the Small Gods Epic Fantasy Series (The Books of the Small Gods by Bruce Blake (ebook reader with highlight function TXT) 📕

I'm back under the dome of black sand.

His chest swelled with relief while disappointment insinuated itself in his mind. Did this mean he'd experienced a false vision of the world? An illusion created by his panic or that he'd dreamed when he slipped into sleep without realizing?

It appeared so real.

He recalled the cool air on his face as he fell, the overwhelming awe. Could those excitements visit him during dream or illusion? He'd awoken from dreams before with feelings of loss or concern, but did he ever experience them in the midst of the vision?

Rilum shifted again, the crunch of his boots in the sand highlighting the lack of other sounds—no crash of waves, no swirling of surf or howl of wind. It brought Teryk back from his memories to the present.

"Rilum," he said, relieved the man lived.

"Where are we?" the sailor asked, voice hoarse and scratchy.

"Safe. I think."

"Safe where? Where be the stars?"

The prince sighed. "What do you last remember?"

A moment of near-silence passed, then the whisper of cloth scratching against cloth. He imagined his companion rubbing his eyes, attempting to vanquish the cobwebs of sleep from his head. A deep sigh followed.

"The thing eatin' the cap'n. Not much after."

"We abandoned the raft and made it to shore. While you slept, stars fell from the sky. One hit the sea and created a huge wave, but the beach came to life." He hesitated, swallowed. "To protect us. A dome formed of black silt enshrouds us now."

Teryk finished speaking and shook his head. It sounded so unreal when he spoke it aloud. The doubt he'd allowed to creep in about the veracity of his view of the world solidified. None of this could happen. Stars didn't plummet from the sky. Sand didn't move in the manner of a living thing, nor did it take the form of a woman. He didn't tell his companion the most unbelievable part.

"It—" Rilum interrupted himself to swallow hard, his throat clicking. "It don't make sense."

Teryk's head sank until his chin touched his chest. "No, it doesn't. I have no idea where we are."

As the last word left his mouth, the sand over their heads parted, letting in a shaft of what might have been sunlight, but the prince couldn't be sure. He threw his forearm up in front of his eyes to keep it from blinding him. Rilum groaned as though the brightness hurt.

With the light came warmth. It began from above, beating down on them with the intensity of the hottest day of third season, then it spread around them. Teryk glanced to his left and saw the wall of sand falling away, folding upon itself and opening on a meadow. The prince lowered his arm, his eyes becoming accustomed to what he now knew to be sunlight. Had they been under the black sand's protection long enough for night to become daytime? It didn't seem possible, but the triviality of time meant little in the face of another question.

Where did the beach go?

"I thought you said we'd swam to shore."

"I..." Any explanation Teryk might give escaped him.

The last of the sandy dome fell away. Instead of creating a swath of darkness on the emerald grass, it disappeared as though either the earth or the air swallowed it. One more mystery to which he'd never find an answer.

His gaze wandered across the meadow and found it dotted with wildflowers of many colors: red, yellow, orange, purple, blue. In the distance, the ground rose into hills and trees sprouted, small at first, then farther away reaching high toward the sky. No matter which direction he surveyed, the view remained unchanged.

"We're in a valley," Teryk said finally. He shifted to face Rilum. "Is it familiar to you?"

The sailor's eyes darted, taking in the landscape. His expression gave the prince the answer before he parted his lips to speak.

"I spent near my entire life walking the decks of the ships of merchants and kings. The land I've seen is whatever be at the ports I visited."

Teryk thought he detected a note of regret in his companion's voice, but he chose not to mention it. Sitting in the middle of an unknown meadow didn't seem the time nor the place to delve into what made Rilum Seaman sad. Not when a prophecy threatened the fall of man.

The prince stood. The ground beneath them remained a disk of black sand laced with gold, as soft and sugary as when they'd found their way to the shore. Two strides separated him from the edge of the misplaced piece of beach; he took those steps, stopping before his feet left the circle.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Teryk didn't bother looking back. The sound of Rilum's words made him realize he heard no other noises—not a sigh of wind, a chirp of birds, or the buzz of insects. A chill ran along his arms, covering the flesh with bumps.

"I'm not sure, but what's the point in staying here?"

"How do you know? We got here without intending. Maybe if we stay, we'll get somewhere else we don't mean to go."

"What if the place we end up isn't a pleasant grassy field? What if it's the top of a snowy mountain? The middle of the ocean?" He recalled his vision as he floated high above the world and the vast blue-green sea covering the majority of its surface.

It wasn't real.

He returned his attention to the meadow stretching out toward him. What happened to the sounds? Did nature ever sit so still and silent? If he concentrated enough, he thought he might pick out Rilum's heartbeat competing with his own.

Teryk diverted his gaze to his feet. The width of a finger separated the toes of the boots they'd provided him