Dragonhold (Book 2) by Brian Rathbone Page A

The construction was far rougher than what Durin had seen within Dragonhold or even Windhold.
    "I knew a smith who made art by pouring molten silver into anthills," Strom said as if to chase away the ever-impinging darkness. "This place reminds me of the many tunnels and chambers the ants create."
    Markers, presumably left by Catrin, saved them from exploring the entire place. Durin had to assume she was the one guiding them. Any other thought was just too frightening to bear.
    "I'm convinced this place is the work of Ain Giest," Osbourne said. Strom glared at him as if mentioning the name might summon the immortal madman himself.
    Durin wasn't certain he believed the old tales about Enoch and Ain Giest merging their consciousnesses and going mad, but someone built this impossible place. If Osbourne was correct, they were walking into the lair of the most notorious character in Godsland's history. Even the possibility gave Durin the crawls. They could do nothing to prepare and were essentially defenseless against whatever they encountered. Beyond the statuettes' light, darkness shifted and moved. Strom kept the figurines glowing low, afraid of discharging them too quickly, although there had been no perceptible lessening of the light they provided. Durin wished to see farther into the distance; not knowing if they were walking up on some ancient monster made his stomach hurt.
    "If it was Ain," Osbourne continued, "I believe we are safe. He was never malicious as much as he perceived the world differently than others. No one can say what it must have been like always having his grandfather in the back of his mind, controlling his breathing, heart rate, and other functions. His frailty was the price of Enoch's folly. He was the one who'd taught so many of his people to heal themselves, not knowing how dire the consequences would be."
    "No one should ever get into someone else's head," Strom said. "It's against nature and just wrong."
    Durin could see his point, knowing Strom's experience with Kyrien was a driving factor behind his stance on the matter. There were others, though, who had benefitted from direct communication with the mind of another, sometimes across great distances. Had Prios not spoken in Sinjin's mind, assassins might well have succeeded in killing him. Some things were dangerous and needed to be used with care was what Durin took away from the conversation.
    Ahead twisted carvings of trees materialized from the pervasive darkness. Winged gargoyles watched from glistening black branches as they moved deeper into a nightmare. Artfully carved, the trees may have once been accurate representations of nature. Now they looked as if they had been turned to wax, melted, then turned to stone. The creatures who occupied the upper branches were angular in comparison, lifelike images of things Durin prayed did not actually exist. And if they did, he hoped there were none within this place, which was horrible enough on its own.
    Shuffling noises up ahead made Durin want to run and hide. Strom stopped them with a raised hand, and all three were on full alert. The light they bore would make them stand out to anything living in that darkness and might even drive some away. Durin didn't want to consider which of the creatures he'd seen in the trees might have been real, especially since far more terrifying monstrosities waited deeper within the twisted forest. Wings and tails emerged from human-looking torsos. Durin thought he might faint if one moved.
    Nothing gave any indication of how large the forest was or if there were other tunnels leading out of the place.
    Strom continued forward, as if drawn by magic, and Durin wondered if it might be true. He knew better than to ask the man. Strom was uncomfortable with his powers, and asking him would only make him defensive about it. Better to let the big man lead and follow his instincts. Durin smiled. He was finally starting to understand how to work with other people. He'd