by Kyle West
I reached for Silence, and found my connection to the Xenofold readily enough. Strangely, however, it didn’t feel as strong as it used to . . . an effect of the dream, perhaps? I opened myself to it, until its power filled me fully. I could sense Isa’s connection, too, grabbing hold of it and connecting.
The link became stronger than either of us alone. Hopefully, the two of us would be enough to pull Fiona from the dream unharmed.
I sought Fiona’s own connection, but unlike Isa, her presence wasn’t easily detected. I was beginning to lose hope in my search when, at last, I found her, a fading light in the deepening darkness. That light would be gone in moments if nothing was done. If I couldn’t pull her back from the dream, I realized, Rakhim Shal would claim her just as surely as he had claimed Isaru.
We must be strong, Isa.
Perhaps we should get Shara . . . it will take too much power.
Fiona’s light was already darkening, almost to the point of being indiscernible against the blackness . . . a dying star winking out in the vast void. I knew there was no time to get additional help.
It’ll just have to be us, Isa. We can do this.
Okay, she thought.
And like that, we channeled the power of the Xenofold together, its strong current leaving directly from my hand and entering through Fiona’s. I let the river of light loose, directing it in a stream that plunged into the darkness of Fiona’s mind. I felt the strain of that power leaving me, and the strain it placed on Isa, who was bonded with me. But we had time still.
The silver stream rushed into the void, forming a bridge between the waking world and the world of dreams, the world in which Fiona’s consciousness now found itself. The stream was so bright that Fiona’s light was almost lost against it; I focused as hard as I could to maintain contact on Fiona’s consciousness, a consciousness that seemed to be slipping further away with each passing second.
And, suddenly, there was the sensation of connection . . . and then, of her being pulled.
The silver stream was nearly yanked away from me, like a rope suddenly being tugged too taut. Isa and I were slowly, but surely, being pulled down into the darkness with her, like rescuers going down with the drowned.
Hold on! I thought to Isa. Don’t let go!
I could hear Isa grunting from beside me, but she held on strong.
Fiona! Follow the light! Get out of there!
There was no response. I’d have to try harder.
I took a deep breath, and then gave it everything I had left . . . one final push that either would save her, or wouldn’t. The light streamed forward once more in an unrestrained burst, shining like a river of diamonds under fierce sunlight, blinding in its brilliance. The black was pushed back in one victorious, sudden sweep, and suddenly, I felt Fiona with us, rushing upstream toward the waking world.
Follow the light, Fiona!
When she reached us, only when I was sure she was back with her eyes opened, only then did I let go of Silence.
And when that power was gone, my legs went weak and my mind lost consciousness.
* * *
When I came to, I didn’t know how long I’d been out. I opened my eyes to see Isa and my mother both kneeling over me.
“She’s waking up,” Isa said.
I forced myself into a sitting position, the other two giving me space as I did so, which revealed Fiona sitting up in the bed, shaken but awake. Shara sat beside her, turning toward me now that I was up.
“How are you, Fiona?” I asked.
“I’m fine, now,” she said. “I’ve . . . been told I was trapped in a dream?”
“You remember nothing?”
“Of the dream, no,” she said. “Except . . . I still feel shaken.”
“How about you explain to us what happened?” my mother asked.
She and Isa helped me up, and pulled a chair for me to sit in. Once settled in, and once Shara was woken to hear this as well, my mother gave me a cup of warm tea to steady my nerves. I then explained everything as the tea started reviving me.
By the time I finished the story with me flying right into the light produced by the Hyperfold’s Point of Origin, everyone had gone quiet.
“Any ideas?” I asked.
Fiona cleared her throat. “First of all, I don’t remember anything . . . not even the intention of going to sleep to find you in my dreams. Prophecy . . . is a strange Gift. Usually it involves receiving prophecies from the Xenofold itself, and interpreting and responding to them appropriately.”
I knew that myself from my short training at the Sanctum.
“What you’re describing, however, goes beyond the bounds of mere prophecy,” Fiona said. “It’s as if you were in a whole other world, one that exists parallel to our own. I supposed I had breached that world as well.”
“Is there any record of such a thing?” Isa asked.
Fiona shook her head. “No. If I found you in that dream, then it had to have been by mistake. Perhaps it was a trap. Perhaps it was all conjured to separate the two of us, to isolate me, and . . .”
Fiona couldn’t bring herself to finish, so Shara did. “And turn you?”
Fiona nodded. “Yes. Maybe. If you and Isa hadn’t pulled me out, then I might not be talking to you right now.”
If that was true, then it was highly disturbing. It meant none of us would be safe, even in our sleep. At the very least, those with the Gift of Prophecy—namely, Fiona and myself—would have to be very careful. Isaru had said himself that he’d be waiting there, every night . . .
But something told me that there had been some significance to the flying into the Hyperfold’s light and the reason I felt so different now. I kept that part about feeling different to myself, mostly because I didn’t understand it. It was as if I had lost some memory of who I was, but I had lost so much that I couldn’t even remember what exactly was lost.
I took a sip of my tea. “That place . . . wherever it was . . . was dangerous. I have no doubt about that. I also have no doubt that it was real, and that Isaru was real. The Hyperfold and the Xenofold seem to intersect, somehow, though they are separate entities. Maybe they project into each other, and we can skim the center of both while being in neither. In other words, this could be a place where the Xenofold and Hyperfold have equal power. But we also learned something. We can affect things from here. But the reverse is also true. So can Shal, and so can Isaru.”
“You’re proposing going back?” Isa asked.
“Think about what almost happened to Fiona,” I said. “If she could possibly be pulled into the Hyperfold’s sphere though a dream like this, then that means it might be possible to get Isaru back in the same way.”
The others were quiet as they thought about it. Shara’s face was skeptical, while Isa’s was hopeful. Fiona chewed her lip, considering, while my mother just looked worried.
“I don’t know how,” I said, “but we have to believe there is a way, right? If we don’t believe it can be done, then what’s the point?”
“We need more answers,” Fiona said. “But where to get them? There are Seekers in the Sanctum who might know something about dreamwalking, or whatever it was we did. Perhaps that is a Lost Gift as well, or perhaps it’s a subset of Prophecy. Whatever the case, the Sanctum is on the wrong side of the coming war. If I were to return there for answers, there are no guarantees that I’d be able to get out again.”
“What about your uncle?” Shara asked.
“It’s true Sylva has a large library . . . probably the second largest in the Red Wild.” Fiona paused, considering. “It’s worth a try when we make our visit there, which we will surely do soon.”
“When will that be?” Isa asked.
“As soon as we can,” I said. “King Arius is still grieving over his brother’s death, and he still suspects Isaru of being involved. That can only work to our advantage when we tell him all the facts.”
“How soon is as soon as we can?” Shara asked.
&nbs
p; That was a good question. And I could tell from my mother’s expression that she didn’t like the idea of me leaving so soon. “You’ve barely rested, Shanti. What you had tonight does not count as sleep. I won’t let you do anything more until you’ve had more food and rest. If you keep pushing yourself like this, you’re going to burn out. Or even worse.”
“I agree,” Shara said. “There’s plenty of food here as well, which you’ll need to continue your healing. I vote for one more day of rest . . . for all of us.”
“I agree,” Isa said. “All I want is to sleep.”
When even Fiona agreed, I resigned myself to reality. “All right. One more day. Sleep, eat, meditate. Do whatever you need to do to refresh yourself tomorrow. We leave for Sylva the following day.”
In the following silence, something was still eating at me. Isaru wasn’t playing games, and Isaru would likely be working toward his goals even as all of us slept. I knew sleep was a need, but I didn’t want it to be.
“What about Pallos?” Isa asked. “Is he coming, too?”
“Yes, of course he is,” I said.
“Do you trust him now?” Shara asked.
I hesitated. “I trust him ninety percent. Besides, having him with us will help me rest easier. He’s probably a better pilot than I am by now.” I looked at everyone. “Anything else?” When no one answered. “All right. Everyone’s free until tomorrow morning. Spend your time wisely.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE REST OF THAT DAY was spent eating and sleeping on all our parts. That evening, before dinner, I went out to the yard to watch the priests at their training. They had risked their lives to come here, braving a dangerous journey all the way from the Ruins, and it felt wrong that I hadn’t acknowledged them as a group yet. Fiona, Shara, and Isa got some of the castle workers to load Odin with food and supplies for our journey while I oversaw the priests’ training.
All of them gathered here revealed their true numbers to be somewhere around two hundred priests and initiates, all moving in the fluid motions of a Waterform sequence that looked more like a dance than a sword form. Their bodies bent and contorted at seemingly inhuman levels of flexibility, and even the old men were as lithe as the younger ones. Their skill seemed to be even greater than that of the Seekers.
It was only when they reached the end of their sequences that High Priest Markas held up a hand, calling the assembly to attention. I noticed that I wasn’t the only spectator. A few faces watched from the sidelines that I hadn’t seen in months. One of them was Roland, the swarthy apprentice who ran the kitchens back in the Sanctum, and to my surprise, Alaric, the very same initiate I’d faced off against in the Spring Tournament what seemed ages ago. I didn’t see how it was possible, but he was even taller and wider than the last time I saw him, no less than six and a half feet high with trunk-like limbs and flaming red hair. He watched the proceedings with interest, only breaking his gaze now and again to look at me.
As Markas turned to face me, so did the entire assembly. Some two hundred pairs of eyes were on me . . . two hundred warriors who looked to me as their leader. I noticed others were joining the assembly from the wings, interested in what I had to say.
“I apologize for not coming out earlier,” I called, “but even I need to sleep.”
This brought about a few chuckles from the wings of the assembly, but none from the stoic priests themselves. Everyone here was aware of where I’d come from, so I didn’t need to further justify myself.
“It’s with deepest gratitude and humility that I address you now,” I said. “The reason you’ve joined me is a true reason. I’m Anna. Every bone in my body is her bone, the blood in my veins is her blood. Anna’s name may have changed over the centuries since her disappearance from the world, but that makes no difference. I am still her all the same.”
I gazed out at the crowd to make sure my voice was carrying in the open air. Thankfully, the wind wasn’t strong, and even some of the guards on the ramparts turned to pay heed.
“I came into this world Shanti Roshar. I’m her, too. But how can there be two people in one?” I gave a rhetorical pause. “That’s a question I’ve been grappling with these past few months, but the truth is . . . as much as I am Anna, I’m also Shanti. You may call me either. When I returned to the world, it was without memories of my past life. As time has gone on, I have remembered more and more. This ship you see, the Odin . . . I did not learn how to fly that in this life. My memories from my past life have taught me to pilot it. Likewise, my fighting abilities are not my own. The very forms you’re practicing now have their roots over four hundred years in the past. Roots Anna laid down when she founded the Seekers, an order sworn to keep the truth of the past alive and Anna’s vision for the future intact. No doubt, you’re wondering what that future is. Don’t worry, I’m here to tell you.”
If everyone was quiet before, now they were very quiet.
“You’ve called yourself the Sphere Priests, but the time for that name has passed. You are all Seekers now, just as at the time the order was split following the fall of Hyperborea. Your first task has been completed; you have sought me out, and you have found me. You have joined me at the head of the road, and now we are looking out at it together. The road is dangerous and dark, but nonetheless we must travel down it. Some of us, perhaps all of us, will die on the journey. But I invite you to take that journey with me now, as dangerous as it is. Such is your fate as a Seeker. You know this already . . . or you would not have joined me. As a Seeker or as a priest, you are taught to never fear death as part of the immortal code that every initiate learns by heart.
“With that in mind, your task at this moment is to remain here in the Stronghold, guarding it from all enemies. Lord Harrow’s men are not but a week’s march from here, and Kalear will need to be defended if it is to serve as our base in the future. I won’t lie to you; Isaru and the Sanctum are likely going to join forces, and together, they would be an all but unstoppable adversary.” I pointed toward Odin. “My friends and I, Seekers all, are flying to Sylva tomorrow to reach out a hand of friendship to King Arius of the Makai. We have a lot of common ground, and if all goes well, by tomorrow, we will be in alliance with them.”
Several let out at cheers at this, even if the task had yet to be accomplished. I hoped I’d be able to deliver that. Perhaps it was wrong to say at this moment, but I wanted those who fought for me to have something to look forward to.
“The Seekers are the key to fulfilling Anna’s Prophecy,” I said. “All of you are true Seekers, and those who don’t follow me aren’t. It’s as simple as that. Together, I know we can win this fight. Anna knew something in the past that we don’t know today. Much has been lost. But one thing is sure. The Second Darkness is coming. Xenofall is coming. Even now, Odium is heading right for us . . . and if we are to have any hope of stopping him, we must work together to unite the Elekai as a single people. That is our number one goal.”
Several called out their agreement, but the majority kept their silence. Because they disagreed, or because they were still listening?
“The Elder Dragons have returned to the world,” I said. “I’m doing my best to work with them to challenge Isaru’s power more directly.”
“Anna!” Roland cried, drawing his katana and thrusting it in the air.
Several others took up his call, followed by the guards on the wall and the castle workers who had come to watch. High Priest Markas looked at me, a small smile on his face. He drew his sword and thrust it skyward.
“Anna Reborn!” he called.
And then, everyone was yelling it. The entire courtyard was a clamor, and the thunder of voices pummeled into me. Their voices unified into one, finding each other and chanting: “Anna, Anna, Anna!”
The great cheer rose in the air. A cheer which seemed to me premature, but it showed one thing. They were following me, and not only that, they were counting on me. I had hardly even done anything yet to prove myself to these people. T
hey had only heard the stories, and they desperately wanted to believe those stories.
I couldn’t let them down.
* * *
Sylva was only two hundred miles from Kalear, so reaching it took less than an hour in the Odin. The same journey by foot would have taken at least a couple of weeks, perhaps even more striking across the Wild rather than taking the roads.
The vast Webwood spread out in every direction, covering hills, valleys, the tops of mesas and buttes. Long ago, in Anna’s day, this land had been desert . . . but ever since the spread of the Red Wild, the land was lush and untamed. There were small islands of civilization in the sea of forest; hamlets, villages, even a few cities built entirely in the treetops of high Silverwoods. But none of them were Sylva, said by many to be even more beautiful than Haven.
It was late morning when what seemed to be a clump of trees rose above the surrounding forest. None of these trees were half as tall as Haven, but there was at least a dozen, larger than most other Silverwoods. The trees twisted and interlocked together, as if they were all one organism, the tallest being in the middle. The silver bark and boughs glistened in the light, while pink, shimmering leaves drank in the sun.
“That’s Sylva,” Fiona said. “It feels like it’s been ages since I’ve been here.”
Fiona had last visited Sylva while Isaru and I were still studying in the Sanctum.
“I don’t see where we can land,” Pallos said.
Fiona frowned, seeing the difficulty. “You’ll have to fly the ship away, Pallos. The Webwood ends about fifty miles to the east.”
“Does he really have to park the ship so far?” I asked.
Fiona nodded. “I’m afraid so. The trees grow too thickly, and most meadows are used for farming. Fifty miles are nothing to Odin.”
