The Orb of Truth (The Horn King Series) by Brae Wyckoff

that name when I meet new people, such as you.”
    She focused again on Bridazak, “Would you like for me to reveal your future? If I concentrate hard enough, I might find the answer that you seek.”
    “What do you mean? How do you know that I have a question?” he asked curiously.
    “You have an aura of confusion about you that I can sense.”
    “Actually, I do have a question on my mind. Maybe what you say might shed some light on the answer.” Thoughts of wonder burned inside, and every step they had taken brought a need to know what he carried even more. He tried to breathe calmly, but his heart pounded furiously. Moving closer, he sat upright and attentive in hope.
    Dulgin quietly gazed at the angelic, red-haired woman. He was suspicious of her, even though she had just miraculously healed him from the poison that was wreaking havoc inside his body. He glanced over at his companions. Spilf’s mouth was open, still held captive by her allure. Bridazak sat waiting for the mysterious woman’s prediction like a puppy waiting for its food. Dulgin had a feeling this female wasn’t all she played up to be, but he waited quietly as she began to tell his friend’s future. Her eyes were closed and her head cocked back, her hands resting on her knees. She was deep in meditation. The light of the lamp seemed to pulse, but not enough to alarm them. Her blue robe in the dim light appeared black at times. There were no symbols or family crest to identify any lineage or regime she may have belonged to. Everything was plain and simple, but at the same time, her beauty nullified the most magnificent thing you could think of. No blemish was on her face, no wrinkle, nothing out of sorts. She was as perfect as he imagined one could be.
    “There is someone coming,” she started. “Someone of great importance, and someone you will meet. Evil follows you wherever you may go, but destiny has awakened once again. In time, the truth will be revealed and this truth shall set you free.” Her eyes opened and she locked into Bridazak’s, “That is all that I am permitted to tell you.”
    “Who are you?” Bridazak questioned, knowing she was more than what she appeared to be.
    “I am someone full of regret, and though there is no hope for me, I have chosen my path.” She shifted her focus, “Dulgin, keep your suspicions high, for they might save you and your friends. Spilfer Teehle, you might spend your time in the shadows, but the brightness of your heart shines strong.” The woman suddenly faded away like a dream, disappearing right in front of them. The wagon stopped abruptly. Dulgin swung the heavy curtain aside, and discovered more time had passed than they realized; the deep of night was upon them, and the saturated air clung to their skin. The rest of the caravan was gone. Vanished.
    With the light from the oil lamp inside, Dulgin spotted a weathered wood sign that read Lonely Tear—One Millari, and an arrow that pointed the way. Hanging from the wooden post was a medallion on a chain. Bridazak hopped down and grabbed it from the aged marker to inspect it. A symbol of flames adorned the jewelry piece. A circle of gold encompassed the image. Bridazak placed it around his neck and then looked back at his friends, who still sat in the back of the cart, feeling foggy and stunned.
    “Let’s get moving,” Dulgin shook off the numb feeling. He made his way to the front of the coach, helped Spilf right behind him and then grabbed the reigns.
    “Thought you said you wouldn’t ride any horses,” Spilf stated.
    “I didn’t say anything about a wagon, just none of them four legged meat-walkers.”
    Bridazak smiled, “Let’s see what awaits us in Lonely Tear!” He climbed on with a renewed spirit.
    The Dwarf whipped the horses and they all jolted backwards. Within minutes they had reached the outer walls of the small town. Two guards, roused by the sound in the early morning darkness, stepped out and halted their