The Treasured One
The second brilliant book in the fantasy series set in an entirely new world from bestselling authors David and Leigh Eddings.They are called the Dreamers. They look like sleeping children. They are, in fact, Gods.Despite the literally earth-shattering climax of The Elder Gods, Dahlaine still does not regret having brought the Dreamers into the world of the Elder Gods. He only wishes he’d thought harder about the consequences.His sister Aracia fears the whole world will collapse in on itself if the Dreamers should all wake up and realize where they are. It’s bad enough with them dreaming the future, but at least it’s a future.Dahlain is pretty sure he’s safe from an ‘I-told-you-so’ from Aracia. The Dreamers give the Elder Gods a chance in the battle against the vicious Ruler of the Wasteland.Then spies of very short stature start cropping up in Veltan’s bucolic and peaceful domain.They look like people, or maybe they all look like the same person, but they are more sinister than that.Fortunately, Dahlaine is soon on the scene riding his thunderbolt. This second story of the sibling Gods is the story of the first god Dahlaine and his child Yaltar, who is so dangerous when asleep. And it is the story of the Treasured One, a mysterious presence who is controlling Yaltar’s dreams!
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The Treasured One
David and Leigh Eddings
Book Two of The Dreamers
HarperVoyager
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
Published by Voyager 2004
Copyright © David and Leigh Eddings 2004
The Author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
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Source ISBN: 9780007157617
Ebook Edition © MARCH 2010 ISBN: 9780007368075
Version: 2017-05-05
Table of Contents
During the course of my many cycles
INTERLUDE IN THE LAND OF DREAMS
It was a time of uncertainty in the nest of the Vlagh, for no word of success had yet reached the nest from the warrior-servants which had followed the burrows below the face of the ground toward the broad water which lies beneath the sunset.
All had gone as it should at first as the warrior-servants had moved down through the burrows toward the land of the sunset, killing the man-things of that land as they went, and the joy of our dear Vlagh had known no bounds, for once the land of the sunset was ours, there would be much to eat, and the Vlagh which had spawned us all could spawn still more, and our numbers would grow to beyond counting, and the overmind of which we are all a part would expand, for it grows larger and more complex with each new hatch.
Impatient was our Vlagh, for none of its servants of whatever form had yet brought word of victory, and without that assurance, our Vlagh could not spawn. Though our Vlagh reached out with its senses toward the land of the sunset to question the overmind about the success of the warriors of strange form, the overmind did not respond, and that was most unusual.
And as the days came and went, our Vlagh grew more and more
irritable as the need to spawn was frustrated by the lack of certainty. ‘Go!’ our Vlagh commanded the warrior-servants which protect the hidden nest. ‘Go and look, and then return and tell me that which I must know.’
Many warrior-servants of venomous fangs hurried away, and those of us which are the true servants who care for our Vlagh and the newborns sought to assure our dear Vlagh that all was as it should be.
But it was not so.
The venomous warriors of strange form returned to report that they could not find even one of those of our number which had followed the burrows beneath the face of the ground toward the broad water which lies beneath the sunset, nor had they even been able to find any trace of those burrows. More horrible still, they had felt no sense of the overmind in that region.
And the pain of our dear Vlagh knew no bounds, for the overmind had been greatly diminished, and it would remain so until the burrowers and the warriors with venomous fangs were found and their awareness was rejoined with the overmind.
Then there came to the nest of the Vlagh a burrower with missing limbs and deep burns in its shell, and the burrower spoke of hot light spewing up from the mountains and red liquid hotter than fire running down through the burrows below the face of the ground, consuming all that was in its path. And then the burrower said that which should never be said. ‘They are no more. The many which went through our hidden burrows toward the land of the sunset have all been consumed by the red liquid hotter than fire, and we are all made less because they are gone.’
And then the burrower’s task was complete, and it died.
And our beloved Vlagh shrieked in agony, for the word of the burrower had torn away the urge to spawn. And all of us were made less by those words, for the many were now fewer, and the lands beneath the sunset were now and forever beyond our reach. The grief of our Vlagh was beyond our understanding, and that grief brought us rage.
Now it came to pass that the servants with strange forms and venomous fangs which had gone forth to seek knowledge in the lands of the man-things conferred with one another. The seekers of knowledge are unlike the
