We pause in the doorway of the kitchen. Mouli is passing sweet rolls to grubby little hands at the half-door, which is open to a small crowd of street children. Flitt darts between them all, diving to catch the bits of icing that drip from each roll as Mouli hands them out.
“Ah, ah,” Mouli says. “To the water bucket with you! Only clean hands get a treat. Go on. What’s that? Do I get a thank you? Good girl. All right, and one for your brother. You tell him I’m praying for him. Yes, dear.”
I grin and lean against Rian as we watch until the tray of rolls is empty, then I clear my throat and Mouli spins around, startled.
“Oh! By the stars! By the stars and moon and seas alive! Azi! Rian!” She tosses the tray onto the table with a clatter and rushes to throw her arms around us. “Look at you. Look at the sight of you both! Filthy! Oh!” she clucks her tongue and fusses over us in a way that I never thought I’d miss as much as I did. “You could have sent a note. I have nothing prepared for you. Oh, my. Oh, dear.” She wipes her hands on her apron all a fluster and smoothes her hair.
“Mouli, it’s all right. We’re only here for tonight. We just came to say hello,” Rian tries to calm her while I go to Flitt, who’s happily full of icing but still drained of her color. I bend to offer her my shoulder and she flies up and tucks herself into my collar.
“Isn’t it a little late at night to be passing out treats to children?” I ask her as I peer out at the last few who are licking icing from their fingers.
“Oh, they know to come after supper so nothing goes to waste,” she smiles at me and goes to the door. I chuckle to myself as I look at the empty tray and decide not to voice my doubts about how an entire tray of fresh-baked sweet rolls could possibly be considered supper leftovers.
“Go on home now,” Mouli leans out of the door. “Go in pairs, yes. Goodnight.” She closes up and looks us over again.
“Baths,” she says. “And then to bed, both of you.”
Despite the heavy guilt I feel for indulging in something so unnecessary at a time like this, I’m glad to give in to Mouli and soak for a while. It puts my mind at ease after all we’ve been through, and steels me for what’s to come. By the time I wash my armor and braid my hair I feel like I’ve been reborn.
Rian and I wait until she comes to say goodnight, and then he ducks into the Half-Realm and slips through the wall that separates our rooms. We lie in each other’s arms, whispering apologies and plans between kisses, allowing ourselves be as close as we want to be. As close as we can, that is, with Flitt tucked beside my head on my pillow. She’s sound asleep, and we’re careful not to wake her.
“She’s so white,” I whisper to Rian, who turns over to look at her.
“She just needs to rest,” he says. “That little move took a lot out of her.”
“It makes sense, though, fighting darkness with light,” I say. “It was a good idea, and it seemed to really cause him pain.”
“You’re right,” Rian says. He turns back to me with a grin and a glint in his eye. “You might say it was…brilliant.”
“Ha, ha,” I groan and shove him playfully. “Go to sleep, Rian.”
“You too,” he says between kisses to my shoulder. “I mean it, Azi. It’s safe to sleep. Promise.”
His words soothe a worry which I never voiced, one that had been nagging at me since Uncle told us we should rest. I haven’t slept since I was trapped in the Dreaming. With Rian’s arms around me in my own bed, I can’t think of a safer place to allow it. I trust in him and eventually I let myself drift to sleep.
The night passes without a dream, and I’m woken before the sun by Rian’s lips on mine, soft and warm.
“Wake up, Love,” he whispers. “I have something to ask you.”
I groan and stretch and roll away in protest, and he pulls me closer to him.
“I can’t ask you with your back to me,” he laughs softly. I rub my eyes open and catch a glimpse of a much more colorful Flitt still sleeping soundly on my pillow before I turn back to him.
“How long have you been lying awake thinking of questions to ask me?” I ask him, and he shrugs sheepishly and slips out from between the covers to kneel at the bedside.
“This is one I’ve been thinking about for a while.” His expression goes serious as he lays his fist, palm up, between us. I start to sit up but he stops me. “Don’t wake Flitt,” he whispers. “This is between us.” He takes my hand with his free one and gazes into my eyes as his thumb caresses my palm softly. He’s delaying, I can tell. Whatever he’s about to ask me, he’s nervous.
“What is it?” I ask gently. “You know I’d tell you anything, Rian. Don’t be nervous.”
“I know,” he looks down at his closed hand. “It’s just…I’ve known you all my life, Azi. You’ve always been by my side. And the more we face together, the more I realize how much you mean to me. When you fell in the tavern, I thought I lost you. I was terrified. I can’t imagine my life—”
Screams outside my window interrupt him mid-sentence. Together we leap from the bed to throw open the shutters and are struck by the acrid smell of smoke. In the distance toward the city gates, flames lick toward the sky.
“That’s Midmarket,” he says.
“Oh, Rian, the low houses!” I peer out into the smoke and flames toward the rooftops where the poorer folks make their home in the city.
“Get dressed,” he says to me. “We’ll go help.”
Hastily, I tuck my night dress into a pair of trousers and dash outside with Rian toward the flames. Closer to them, it’s chaos. Children and women are huddled along the street away from the fire coughing and crying, while men hoist buckets from the nearby well. Two Mages stand close to the flames, shouting spells that spray water from their palms to calm the raging fires. I run to the bucket line to help while Rian separates to join the other Mages.
I pass bucket after bucket, my fingers stinging from the bitter cold and icy water that splashes over me, and I fall into the soothing rhythm of it. The sun is just peeking up over the sea wall. It casts long shadows across the cobbles. Shadows that creep toward me, whispering words that make no sense. They slip over my arms, caressing me, luring me. I try to ignore them and focus on the buckets. The fire is nearly out. Thick pillars of smoke billow into the pink morning sky. All around us I hear the cries of those who’ve lost everything.
“You shouldn’t have hidden from me,” Jacek’s voice echoes in my head and the bucket slips from my numb fingers and crashes to the ground, drenching me and the man beside me.
“All right, lass,” he says gruffly. “Keep going, it’s almost out.”
I get the next bucket and the next as I survey the damage left in the fire’s wake. The entire market and a half dozen low houses beyond are reduced to charcoal and soot. The Mages manage to snuff out the remaining flames, and by the time the buckets stop coming my entire body is trembling. This is my fault, all of it. Somehow, Jacek caused this because of me. I find Rian working with a group of Mages to try to restore what they can.
“It’s a complete loss,” he says to me. “Smashed or broken we can easily restore, but burned?” he shakes his head. “There’s nothing we can do. Thankfully no one was hurt.” I stretch my arms around him and hold him and try not to lose my composure in the middle of the street. “They can rebuild. Don’t worry. The king has reserves for matters like this, and the Mages can easily…” he trails off as I look up at him. “It was him, wasn’t it?”
I nod, and his eyes go wide as he takes my hand and starts to run. We weave past displaced families and splash through sooty puddles toward home, to the safety of the guild hall. He pushes me through the door first and as soon as he does I feel the shift of the wards that Uncle placed here last night. Wards to hide me, to protect me. To keep Jacek out.
It makes sense that Rian would want me to be here and safe, but Jacek’s words echo in my mind. If hiding from him means another attack on innocents, I’d rather be out in the open. I turn to Rian to
tell him so, but a light at the top of the stairs distracts me. It glitters and splashes colors all along the wall as Flitt emerges looking much like herself again.
“What happened? I woke up and you were gone,” she wrinkles her nose at us. “You smell like smoke, ugh. How’d you get all dirty? And what are you wearing, Azi?”
“There was a fire,” Rian answers her absently before turning to me. “He was trying to draw you out. He knows you’re a hero, he knows you’d rush to help.”
“What am I going to do?” I ask him. “If I stay hidden, I risk more of that.” I point toward the outside. “But if I’m out in the open, he’ll be able to see anything I’ve seen.”
“Not so,” Flitt says matter-of-factly. “He just did that to scare you last night. I’ve been thinking it over. The Dreamwalker may seem powerful, but he has limits. For example, he can’t reach across planes to gather memories. You know yourself that he has to look into your eyes. He can only make suggestions. Last night he didn’t see anything. He just suggested to you that he was looking in order to trick you into being scared. That made it easier for him to lure you away. Just like when he made you think you’d drunk some poisoned cider. It was only a thought he put into your head to make you vulnerable. There wasn’t anything in the cup, really. Well, aside from cider, obviously.”
While she chatters on, she plays idly with a silver band. Its blue stones flash and glint in her light as she twirls it over her wrist like an acrobat’s hoop. When she realizes it has caught my eye, she shoves it behind her back and slowly floats backward toward Rian, who plucks it away with annoyance.
“You shouldn’t play with that,” he says under his breath.
“Well, you shouldn’t have left it lying around in the bed where she could find it,” she whispers back, blows a raspberry, and shoots through the window, probably on her way to the kitchen to see what Mouli is cooking up.
Before Rian can bring up the ring and his unfinished question, I give him a quick kiss and excuse myself to go upstairs and dress. My heart is racing, and I’m not sure whether it’s from the firefight or Jacek or what came before that. I imagine the ring around Flitt’s wrist. I wish I had gotten a better look at it. Still, if he had asked me…
I shake my head and don my armor, taking care to fasten my sword tightly in its harness. The action reminds me of the girl we left in Kythshire, Saesa. Jacek’s sister. The blood tie who could possibly set him free. What if he saw her in my memories? What if he knows she’s hiding there? Could he find her? Could he use me to get to her?
Thoughts of him make my blood boil. He’s attacked my city now, he’s set fire to innocent people’s homes. I know that Tib has been given the title of Dreamstalker, but here in the quiet of my room, all alone, I vow to myself that my sword will be the last to drive through him, and my eyes will be the last he looks into as his life drains away.
Rian raps on the hatch between our rooms and I nearly jump out of my skin. I slide open the little door and peer into the mess of his room.
“Didn’t Mouli straighten up for you?” I ask him, eyeing the piles of clothes on the floor and the disheveled bedcovers. He grins and shrugs.
“It doesn’t feel like home if it’s not a mess,” he laughs. “Actually, I was looking for something.”
“Did you find it?” I ask him.
“Yes.” He holds up an elegant looking dagger that I’m sure is of elvish make. He swishes it from side to side rather amateurishly. “Just in case.”
I narrow my eyes. “Do you even know how to use that?”
“What’s there to know? Stab, stab.” He thrusts it forward with a flourish and accidentally drops it.
“Rian…” I shake my head and laugh as he ducks down to retrieve it.
“Relax, Azi,” he chuckles. “It’s for Tib. I noticed he had a fondness for sharp things, and this one has a kick to it. Ready?”
“Where did you get it?” I ask him later in the corridor as we walk together to the hall.
“Da gave it to me a long time ago, back before Master Gaethon chose me for the Academy. I think he was hoping I’d be a scout like him one day. I never could get the hang of the bow, though. And you know I’m not so fond of the sight of blood.”
“No, you’re much more comfortable exploding things,” I say as we enter the hall together. Uncle is waiting for us at the table, where Mouli has laid a spread of breakfast fit for a king. Flitt is there too, half-buried in a bowl of sweetnuts.
“Hi Azi!” she says brightly. She waves to me and glances at my finger and turns to Rian with a pout. He shakes his head at her and presses a finger to his lips. “Typical,” she mumbles.
“What?” I push to both of them.
“Nothing!” they reply in unison.
“I feel bad letting it go to waste,” I say of the breakfast after a moment watching the two of them exchange a heated, silent conversation, “but I don’t want to wait. Can we just go?” I look from Rian to Uncle, who nods.
“After the events of this morning, I heartily agree,” he says. “But first,” he turns to me, “Take this, Azaeli. It was carved of the stone of Gelvindan, of the peaks of Hesta, the mountains of Hywilkin. It’s said to have been dipped in the golden waters of the North and imbued with warding powers.”
He lowers the talisman into my waiting hand and I immediately feel the shift of protection around me. I look it over curiously. Flitt comes to perch on my wrist and look it over, too. The stone is deep green marbled with streaks of cream white and flecks of coral. It’s carved into the shape of an open mouth, with a tongue that curls out over sharpened teeth.
“Yep,” she says, “Definitely powerful.” She wrinkles her nose and darts back to her bowl of nuts.
“Thank you,” I say to Uncle, who gives a cordial nod before turning to Rian.
“And now,” Uncle says, “the Mentor will enlighten the Master.” There’s a glint of amused interest in his eye as he takes Rian’s offered elbow. I link my arm through Rian’s free one.
“Azi’s better at it, actually,” Rian says. “Do you want to?”
“Is that so?” Uncle asks, turning to me with a look of utter surprise.
“I don’t think I should this time,” I say to Rian. “You have better focus.” To be honest, I’m nervous about drawing too much attention to myself in the Half-Realm. If Jacek found us because of me, I don’t think I could live with myself.
“Alright. We’re going fast, then,” Rian says. “Brace yourselves.” He speaks the words that pull us away into the Half-Realm and then I feel the ground fall away beneath my feet.
“Meet you there,” Flitt calls after us as we plummet, and I cling to Rian’s arm with both hands. It’s not long at all, only a breath or two, before we land with a thud in the darkness.
Chapter Thirty: Ice and Shadow
Azi
At first I’m half-panicked thinking we took a wrong turn or got pulled into Jacek’s nightmare, but then Rian pushes aside a heavy curtain and the early morning sun splashes over Bryse, Cort, Elliot, and Tib, who groan in protest.
“Still sleeping. Can you believe that?” Rian says, ducking away from a pillow thrown by Bryse.
“Not at all surprised,” Uncle says in his usual droll tone. He flicks his finger and the pillow plunges back to Bryse and smacks him right in the face.
“Hey,” he grumbles and jumps up to exact his revenge, but when he sees Uncle he stands down. “Sorry, Gaethon. Didn’t expect it was you.” His shoulders slump slightly and he scratches his head and yawns.
“Good,” says Tib with a strange level of authority to his voice as he sits up in bed. “You’re all here. It’s time to go. We’ll need everyone’s help to reach Valenor.” He scowls and glares into an unoccupied corner of the room. “Cut it out,” he says under his breath, “I’m through talking for you.”
“First things first,” Uncle says with a suspicious eye on Tib. “Azaeli, go and fetch the others so we can inform them of His Majesty’s wishes.”
I do as Uncle asks, and return with Mum and Mya to find that my father has joined them along with Donal and Dacva. In the previously unoccupied corner, Uncle is standing against the wall. His eyes are half-closed and glowing with a familiar golden light.
“Uncle Gaethon?” I whisper and start to go to him, but Rian stops me.
“He’s getting Mevyn to trust him,” he explains. “He’s showing him.”
“Showing him what?” I ask.
“Everything,” Rian says. He closes the doors and windows and sets the wards. Once everything is secure, Rian and I recount the meeting with the king and the events that happened afterward while Uncle keeps on in his quiet exchange with Mevyn.
“I’m glad His Majesty said as much,” Mya looks at each of us in turn as she speaks. “It seems the King has set his priorities. Our first course will be to put a stop to this Dreamwalker. Once he’s out of the way, we’ll be able to determine for sure how much the prince has acted of his own accord. Agreed?
“Agreed,” says everyone except for Tib, who seems to be having an internal struggle.
“Do what you want,” he heads for the door. “I’m going to find my sister.” His fists are clenched at his sides, and he glances at Mevyn and Uncle’s corner. His feet shuffle a little oddly and then he winces and steps out.
“He’s a spitfire, that one,” says Bryse after the door closes with a soft click. “Touched in the head, I still say.”
“It’s not his fault. I’ll go after him,” I say. “I know Mevyn needs him.”
The boy moves quickly, I’ll give him that. He’s already out of the inn and halfway down the main village street before I catch up with him. It makes me nervous being outside of the warded tavern. I pray that Jacek doesn’t find me.
When I call after him, Tib quickens his pace until we both break into a full-out run. He’s faster than I am in my armor, and he gains twice as much ground. Just when I start to worry I might lose him, he starts to slow. His feet drag heavily as we reach the outskirts of the village. At first I think perhaps he’s tiring, but then he stops and grasps one leg as though trying to pry his foot out of the mud. When he’s unable to, he folds himself in two and drops to his knees in the middle of the street.
Call of Sunteri (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 2) Page 34
