The Troven (Kingdom of Denall Book 1) Read Free

bird” the young man corrected. “There’s literally nothing left, so it couldn’t have been very big.”
    “Ahhh!” Edgar screamed as he turned around and punched a tree. Dune was pleased at how frustrated Edgar was getting at the loss of some of his traps, but he was also delighted at the prospect that perhaps they wouldn’t use so many next time they made camp. Getting established as a hunter in the small southern village of Eaton had taken several months, and still he had failed to get very close to this group of stone seekers. They were polite with other villagers, but seemed wary of Dune as a newcomer. The only time he was able to get information from them was when he tracked them like this while they were camping out, doing some hunting, or visiting nearby hamlets. Dune was beginning to think that there wasn’t much he could learn from this group, and he would soon set his own traps to capture them and turn them in.
    The stone seekers moved back to their campfire, with Edgar still grumbling about the loss of his magical traps. Dune circled around the edge of the clearing, ducking in and out of the darkest shadows. He cast a small spell of sound dampening on his feet before he got within earshot of their campfire.
    “We can’t be sure,” came the voice of a woman in her forties, not much older than Dune. “What if she comes back here? Many years ago she did live here.”
    “That’s just rumor. Nobody actually knows where she is,” Edgar responded. Not sure who they were talking about, Dune continued to listen from his secluded hiding place in the trees, careful not to touch any branches or make any noise. “Besides, it doesn’t matter,” he added. “We’ll be seeing all of them soon enough.”
    “What about the man from Norwell?” the young man asked. “We have to look into the blacksmith, and besides, it’s on the way.”
    Edgar audibly scoffed. “It’s just another dead end, like the cooper from Pike Point, or the carpenter from Gulpond. There’s nothing unique about a blacksmith staying up all night to work the forge, especially this close to the tournaments.”
    “What if it’s not just the tournament?” he protested.
    “It was your lead, you go look into it. I’m heading north.” Everyone around the fire remained silent for several minutes. Dune could hear Edgar’s loud, smacking lips as he chomped on his evening meal. He didn’t like how they were talking about a blacksmith in the capitol city of Norwell, but at least they seemed to have decided they would leave him alone.
    There was a shuffling of people as they pulled blankets over themselves and settled in for the night. Dune was about to leave when he heard the woman speak again. “You know what I wish?” she mused. “I wish I could see the look on that magician’s face when he goes back home.”
    Edgar laughed out loud, “That would be a sight, wouldn’t it, to watch that fool when he realizes he’s not as clever as he thinks?”
    Dune stood frozen in place. How did they find me? What did they do to my house?
    “Speaking of traps,” the young man added, “do we have anything else to keep us safe tonight?”
    “I’ve got something,” Edgar answered. “Everyone come here.” Dune watched as they all gathered around their leader. “It will trap anything that breathes in our camp, anything that’s not touching it when we activate it.” The three seekers touched the small artifact, and Dune quickly sucked in a deep breath.
    “There,” Edgar said. “Now go to sleep. Maybe we’ll have a few squirrels caught by morning.”
    Still holding his breath, Dune began walking away from the camp as quickly as he could. He didn’t know the radius of the trap, or how it would react to magic, so he kept walking in the dark shadows of the trees. After walking almost half-way around the clearing, his lungs were burning.
    “What was that?” the woman asked. Dune stopped moving, forcing his lips to remain closed, his lungs