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

nose, pitted and almost three inches in length. Smaller than the Ordakians, he was only three feet tall. He wore earth-toned clothing, leather boots adorned with strange writings, shiny gold bracers around his arms, and a small, thin, dark brown cape that was slung over his left shoulder. The Deep Gnome glared at them with a cocky confidence.
    “Who are you?” Bridazak asked suspiciously.
    “My name is Mudd, but you can call me Aloysius Davadander Ashenkoombi, for short.”
    The Dwarf and Daks looked at each other, bewildered and confused.
    “I don’t like him,” whispered Dulgin.
    “And I don’t care,” the mysterious Gnome grinned, apparently hearing the Dwarf’s comment from across the room.
    “What do you want?” asked Bridazak.
    “I wanted to see with my own eyes the ones that are causing so much grief.”
    “Grief with whom?” Dulgin questioned as he took a step forward.
    “Yes, an interesting question indeed,” he sighed, “You have no idea what is happening, do you?”
    “No, we don’t. But we would appreciate some answers,” chimed Bridazak as he moved into the sitting room and sat on the end of one of the benches. His friends followed, but did not sit.
    “Things are changing rapidly—things that no one can stop. You, Bridazak, have awakened the destiny of this realm. The prophecy has been unleashed. I have seen much over my thousand years, and have found that men of all races are springs without water and mists driven by a storm. The blackest darkness is reserved for most, but for what they were not told, they will see, and what they have not heard, they will understand.” Mudd narrowed his eye slits while staring intently toward Bridazak.
    “Since you know who I am, are you the one Ember spoke of?” asked the Ordakian.
    “Not even close, but interesting that you should mention her name. She told you of him, didn’t she? Now I see that she has granted you protection, for what it is worth,” Mudd pointed at the medallion around Bridazak’s neck.
    “What is it worth?” Spilf’s interest piqued at the thought of getting a few more coins in their purses.
    “Worthless to those it was not given to, and no help in preventing me from locating you. What matters now is the time of the prophecy. It has called out for centuries, but none have heard, until now. I will give you a word of advice before I depart. Keep moving, because as I found you, so can others. You can stay in my room, if you dare, and the key I leave behind opens more than one door.” The mysterious gnome became blurry and slowly transformed into a ghostly image. He produced a soft aura as he rose from the chair and hovered.
    “The creatures of this world never cease to amaze me. We will see if you are one of them.” Mudd flew up higher and then soared down toward the group. They ducked and watched the apparition as he plummeted into the roaring fire. A burst of flame erupted, and then reduced to its original dying embers. Spilf noticed a glint of gold, and upon inspection, discovered a golden key on the chair where Mudd sat.
    Bridazak sighed as he put his hands over his face. “What have I gotten us into?” He reached for the box again, but thought better of exposing it, remembering Mudd’s warning. It didn’t matter though, as he found that just the thought of it calmed him and returned a warm feeling to his otherwise nervous soul.
    Spilf retrieved the key with a room number etched into it. He looked back at his friends, waiting for someone to say what to do next.
    “Come on little-ones. Let’s rest for a few hours before we leave,” Dulgin spoke solemnly. Silent in their walk, they trudged up the stairs to room number four. The sound of the Dwarf’s boots echoed on the hardened wood floor, and mingled with the slight stomping sound of the Daks’ hairy feet. They entered a large suite that overlooked the bay and all of its beauty, but it was the three beds in the room that had snared their desires. Their eyes were