Fable: Edge of the World Read Online Free Page A

king recalled his father’s speaking of Garth as one of the most powerful Will users he had ever heard of.
    “No, from Brightwall,” said Sabine, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yes, of
course
from Samarkand. Now, go on, boy. Tell these good people what you told me. It’s all right.”
    The youth lifted his haunted eyes to the king and said simply, “They are coming.”
    “Who is—” began Kalin, then fell silent. Laylah locked eyes with her, both of them clearly fearing the worst. Everyone else stared at the floor. No one wanted to speak, to give a concrete reality to what was now simply a horrible fear.
    Sabine nodded miserably, reading their expressions. “It’s as bad as you think. It took those who found him several days to get that much out of the poor lad. It seems that portentous statement is a direct quote. They spared him so we would know.”
    “Why?” asked Timmins. “Why warn us?”
    “To make us fear, Timmins,” the king said quietly.
    “They came from nowhere.” All eyes turned to the Samarkandian. He spoke in a hollow, empty voice. “We don’t know what happened. The roads were blocked against the attack, and all the gates in the wall around Zahadar were lowered. It was like—like …”
    “Being locked in a prison in your own city,” Laylah said quietly. The boy’s gaze jerked to her, and he stared at her raptly. “Under siege by shadows and whispers. Not a darkness like thatof the sky at night, filled with comforting stars. An absence of everything—and a presence of hate and fear and a delight in torment.” She strode over to the boy. He permitted her to take his hands though they remained limp in hers. “They told you things as they took all you loved. No rest, no respite.”
    He nodded slowly. His throat worked for a moment, then he continued. “No one ever got inside Zahadar. Anyone who attempted it would have been slaughtered.”
    “The ships we sent last year,” Kalin said to the king and Laylah. The king nodded, pressing his lips together. Samarkand and Aurora had traded with one another sporadically through the years. With the defeat of the darkness—at least they had all believed it to be defeated, he thought bitterly—and the new prosperity the alliance with Albion had brought to that desert land, the Auroran fleet had once again opened trade routes. No fewer than eight fully loaded ships had been sent to Samarkand and were never heard from again. It had been ill luck indeed, and a sore blow to the economy of Aurora, but no one had thought it more than that. It seemed they had been dreadfully wrong.
    “Some of us could bear it no longer.” The boy was speaking as if a dam had burst inside him, and his hands closed so tightly on Laylah’s that she winced slightly but did not let go. “We fled. Over forty of us started out. We even had protectors. Those were the ones they picked off first. We kept them at bay at night. They called the beasts in from the wilds to attack us during the day, and the winds—the winds …” His voice trailed off.
    “That’s more than he’s ever said before,” Sabine said.
    “He knows Aurorans,” said Kalin. “We are familiar to him in a way the rest of you are not.”
    “Let him rest,” ordered the king. “Sabine, I imagine yourmessenger brought him as soon as he showed up in your encampment. I do not discount your hospitality, but I think some rest and food here in the castle will help him.”
    “Agreed,” said Sabine. “He might tell us more afterward.”
    The king opened the door and beckoned the butler, Barrows, in. “Take this young fellow to one of the guest chambers. See that he has plenty of food and water on hand. And stay close—let me know if he awakens.”
    The boy’s eyes suddenly widened, and he clutched Sabine. “It’s all right,” said Sabine. “Go along with this fellow, then. You’re safe here.”
    The look in the youth’s eyes as he followed Barrows told the king that he didn’t feel safe