Dreamless

by Jenniffer Wardell

  “If you don’t come with me, I’ll tell them I asked and you said no.” He held out a hand, voice teasing enough that it sounded like less of a threat. “Think of the guilt you’ll be sparing yourself if you just come now.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, but he could still see the spark. “Fine. Clearly, it’s the only way to get you to stop talking.”

  ~

  They made it out of the palace with admirable speed, pausing only to tell Bishop where Elena was going. Though Cam didn’t actually stop talking as they walked, he did try to restrain himself. He preferred to get Elena talking, anyway—it was a good distraction from worrying about the Tamara situation.

  The buildings in this part of town were old but well-cared for, marked by the generations of people who had lived there. They got several waves from people on the street, since they were both familiar faces. Normally, Cam would stop and chat, answering the inevitable questions about various family members, but today Elena had his full attention.

  When they got to the bakery, the only person they could see through the windows was Mrs. Feeney. Her head was down, and she was scrubbing the counter like she was trying to teach it a lesson.

  “Maybe her daughter’s hiding in the back,” Cam said, trying to shake the feeling that someone was about to jump out of the shadows at him. They’d both been in this bakery often enough to be considered regulars—to get nervous now was ridiculous. “Trying to catch me by surprise.”

  “Seriously?” Elena shot him a pitying look, then hooked her arm through his to pull him forward. “I have no idea how you managed to survive this long.”

  When they went inside, there were no suspicious sounds coming from the back room. Mrs. Feeney looked up at the sound of the door opening, the scowl on her face instantly clearing at the sight of Cam and Elena. “Your Highness! What a lovely surprise. Let me get you one of those cinnamon buns you like, free of charge. And Cameron! Here to pick up your dear mother’s harvest bread.” She dropped the cloth, bustling around with what Cam realized was just a little too much enthusiasm.

  Cam had spent enough of his childhood watching his mother to know that something had gone wrong. That made him start feeling guilty, even though there was no reason for it, and like most guilty people he compensated for it by being stupid. “Is Tamara around? I remember you mentioning that she might be by this week.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Elena shoot him a look that suggested he was insane. Mrs. Feeney, thankfully, was too busy scowling at a heart-shaped twist bread to notice. “She’s not feeling well,” the woman said, making her voice sound sweet again through sheer force of will. “Poor dear had to cancel the visit.”

  Anyone with half a brain could tell that the two women had fought, and that the only sensible solution was to stay completely silent and get out of there as quickly as possible. Cam’s mouth, however, had decided that being sensible was not on the day’s agenda. “It’s okay, Mrs. Feeney. I’m sure I’ll run into her next time.”

  This was, naturally, the wrong thing to say. “I cannot believe that girl!” Mrs. Feeney burst out, a sudden explosion of temper that actually had Elena taking a step back. “She’s seeing a pirate, can you believe it?” Ever the businesswoman, the old woman kept working as she continued the rant. “Oh, she tries to tell me it’s serious, and they’re really in love, but he’s a pirate.” There was a slapping sound as the harvest bread hit the paper. “What kind of future can they have?” The cinnamon bun hit harder, getting squished nearly flat in the process. Cam couldn’t help but wince. “People who spend their days pillaging on the high seas aren’t known for being steady, faithful spouses.” She grabbed one corner of the paper hard enough that the bun rolled off it entirely, skimming dangerously close along the edge of the counter. Mrs. Feeney didn’t seem to notice. “Takes this long to tell me, says I ‘wouldn’t understand.’ There’s nothing for me to understand! I’m not going to get grandchildren like this!”

  “Let me get that for you,” Elena cut in, dashing around the counter and grabbing the bun before Mrs. Feeney could take out any more of her frustration on it. Shooting Cam an amused look, she tossed the bun to him for safekeeping before rescuing the bread. Cam, fighting his own smile, stole a few extra papers out of the basket. Wrapping Elena’s poor damaged bun in one of them, he exchanged it for the loaf when Elena slipped back over to stand by him. “Maybe you should sit down, Mrs. Feeney.”

  That seemed to catch her off guard. “Sit down?” The old woman blinked, as if the thought had never occurred to her. “I can’t sit down. I still have the counter to clean. And I haven’t finished your orders yet.” The words trailed off as she looked around, finally realizing that the bread was missing.

  Knowing it was his turn to help with the escape plan, Cam held out the loaf of bread he had finished wrapping behind his back. “No, see, you already took care of it.” He gave her his most reassuring smile, the kind he used when assuring supervisors that there had been absolutely no trouble on patrol that night. “Now we just need to pay you.”

  He was very careful not to sound amused, no matter how much fun he was having.

  Mrs. Feeney stared at the bread for a moment, as if trying to fill in the gaps in her memory, then gave Cam an exasperated look. “Here, let me have that,” she said, motioning to the loaf. “I can’t believe I nearly let this go out of the shop wrapped so poorly.” She set the bread on the squeaky clean counter, smoothing and re-wrapping the paper while Cam went for his money. He traded it for the newly wrapped bread with a mental sigh of relief.

  “And thank you so much for the bun, too,” Elena added, holding it up as evidence that part of the to-do list had been taken care of as well. Then she tucked it behind her back, before Mrs. Feeney could examine Cam’s wrap job too closely. “We’ll get out of your way now so you can get back to that counter.”

  They escaped without giving the other woman time to respond, ducking out the door and around the corner with a speed normally used to flee from people brandishing battle-axes. When they’d gone a sufficient distance that there was no chance of being either seen or heard, they both collapsed against someone’s garden wall and burst out laughing.

  When they were able to get some air back into their lungs, Elena wiped her eyes. “You’re right. That was—“ She paused here, inhaling for more breath as a lingering chuckle overcame her. “Absolutely terrifying. I don’t know how you could have survived it alone.”

  “Hey, I was right about needing backup. You were the one who thought to save the bread.” He straightened, letting himself bask a little in the feeling of having fun. The whole situation probably would have been as funny if he’d been alone, but he didn’t think he would have enjoyed it quite so much. “I’m pretty sure I was in shock. By the time I snapped out of it, the poor thing would have been flattened.”

  “Speaking of the bread, we really should be getting it to your parents.” She smoothed her hair with her free hand as they started off again, the glow of a really great joke not quite gone from her face. It was a good look for her. “If we’re really late, your family might start worrying that I’ve done something awful to you.”

  “We’ll just tell them we were accosted by pirates.”

  He was quite pleased when she laughed again.

  Chapter 9

  Shop Talk

  The Merricks lived on the edge of town, in a simple but well-loved home big enough to house all seven members of the family and a few guests. The yard was large enough for a garden, training area, and workshop, since even people who loved each other needed a little breathing room sometimes. Marie had told her that, during a quiet moment when a younger Elena had needed to escape the warm but overpowering bustle of some family event. The thought had been surprisingly comforting.

  When they got closer, Elena could hear the sounds of conversation through the open window. “They’ve already started, haven’t
they?” she asked, belatedly wondering if she should offer her bun as part of the meal or if they’d let her set it down on a counter. The polite thing to do would probably have been to eat it on the way here, but then she would have had less room for dinner. “Tell me you at least told them I’d be coming.”

  “That would be lying to you, which at this point just seems hypocritical,” Cam said cheerfully, pushing open the front door. Elena hesitated, trying to figure out the most polite way to crash a family dinner party, when he turned around gave her an exasperated look. “Come on. If we’re any slower Gabby will have finished off all the potato salad.” Then, before she could say anything, he grabbed her hand and pulled her inside.

  The sound of conversation enveloped her the minute she stepped into the house, a cheerful back-and-forth about cackling techniques, chocolate cake, and whether or not someone could have seconds. When she and Cam appeared in view of the table, however, they immediately had everyone’s attention.

  “Elena! Cam didn’t tell me you were coming!” Marie stood up, pulling Elena out of Cam’s grip and into a hug. “What a wonderful surprise. It’s been too long since we’ve had you over for dinner.”

  “Robbie, get your brother a chair,” Alan said, squeezing Elena’s hand and ushering her into an available seat. “Elena, dig in. You don’t eat enough.”

  “You haven’t seen her with cinnamon toast,” Cam chipped in, sounding completely unconcerned about the fact that she’d just stolen his seat. He took the wrapped bun out of her hand, setting it down on a sideboard as Robbie came back in with another chair. “It’s as bad as Gabby and potato salad.”

  “I helped make it today. It’s delicious,” Gabby piped in, adding another helping onto her own plate before pushing the bowl towards Elena. “You can have some, but not all of it. Mom said I get all the leftovers.”

  “If there are any,” Robbie added, scooting his sister over so there would be room for Cam’s chair. They both took their seats, reaching for the cheese-covered vegetables a second after Cam had already snatched them away. “Fine, then. Dish me some while you have it.”

  “Fair enough.” Cam gave both of them big helpings, then passed the dish across the table to Elena.

  Noticing that the serving dishes were piling up around her, Elena started filling up her plate. The move earned a smile of approval from Marie, who added a piece of chicken to Elena’s growing collection of food. “Here. You can’t just eat Alan’s part of the meal.”

  “Dad’s really careful about chopping things, so he does the inside stuff,” Gabby explained, as if Elena hadn’t already been aware of the family’s cooking arrangements. Then again, maybe the girl simply liked explaining things. “Mom’s more of a free spirit.”

  “Besides,” Alan added, sending a secret smile across the table to his wife. “She likes the fire.”

  “Of course I do.” Marie grinned back at him. “You can have so much fun with it.”

  “People, please,” Cam cut in, the humor evident on his face. “Not in front of the children.”

  “Are you using physical or mental ages to define children?” Robbie argued, looking so serious Elena suspected the expression must be its own joke. “Because if it’s mental ages, that includes everyone at the table but Elena.”

  The conversation settled back into a rhythm as everyone began eating again, giving Elena time to re-acclimatize herself. She’d been to the Merricks’ at least a few times every year since Alan had become her guard, but it was still a little disorienting to step into the world they made. They talked more to each other in a single hour than she and her mother did in an entire week. Maybe even a month.

  She felt both Alan and Marie watching her out of the corners of their eyes, giving her the time she needed. They always did, waiting for whatever secret signal they used when they decided she’d finally relaxed. When they saw it, Marie smiled at her again. “It’s been too long since we’ve had the chance to sit down and really talk, Elena. How have you been?”

  Marie knew about the blackouts, which meant Elena thankfully didn’t have to mention them. “Same as usual, really. Dr. Flyte says hello.”

  “I’ll have to give him a mirror call.” The two sometimes talked about Marie’s students, many of whom went on to top positions with the city guard. She’d tried to talk them into joining the castle guard, if only so that Alan would stop complaining so much. Given the castle guard’s reputation, however, they’d all refused to take the bait. “How about Cam? Hopefully he hasn’t been causing you too much trouble.”

  Elena glanced over at Cam, who was debating with his brother the question of who had been given the worst childhood chores and didn’t seem to be paying any attention. “No. He’s been good.” She didn’t mention the not-quite-fight with the muscle Nigel had hired, not certain how much Cam had told his parents. “We had some disagreements at first, but he’s very skilled at his job.”

  “Ah.” There was laughter in Marie’s eyes, and Elena suspected she’d heard a far less polite version of the story. Honestly, Alan could have told her—she had started yelling at Cam from essentially the moment he arrived. Still, it wasn’t her right to talk about any of that with his parents, no matter what she threatened or teased Cam with in private. Besides, she hadn’t lied—Cam should appreciate that, if nothing else.

  Before she could decide what else she could safely add to her answer, Elena felt someone watching her. Turning, she caught Cam sending her a look that was somewhere between disbelief and what appeared to be worry. She sent back an expression meant to ask him what the problem was, but he just shook his head and returned his attention to the meal. Alan and Marie were now watching both of them, and to Elena’s frustration they seemed to have a far better sense of what had just happened than she did.

  Wanting to distract them, she turned to Alan. “Have we heard anything more about Nigel?”

  The older man’s face darkened. “Cam told us about the local muscle he hired. No one’s spotted him in the city limits, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

  “The city guard’s had to cut back on witch assistance due to budget cuts,” said Marie.“He may still be using an invisibility spell, which would make him difficult to find during the sweeps they’ve been making.”

  “I’m finishing up a set of charms they can use to pick up that specific spell,” Robbie added surprising Elena. She’d studied some witchcraft over the years, and giving a non-magic user the ability to detect invisibility was definitely not one of the standard charms. In fact, she wasn’t sure it was a standard spell. “If he’s still here, they should help the patrols find him.”

  Elena nodded, watching Cam’s younger brother. She remembered Cam telling her how excited Robbie would be to hear about her adaptations to the broom spell, and she wondered why he had stopped asking her about magic. She couldn’t imagine his curiosity had waned, and in her experience a Merrick was never too afraid to ask a person anything.

  Maybe he, too, had been trying to be polite.

  “Cam tells me you’re in your third year of studying witchcraft with Dame Beacham,” Elena said, directing her attention to Robbie. “I’ve never worked with her personally, but I did know her mentor, Dame Kadrey, before she died. I’ve heard that Dame Beacham is just as skilled and exacting a teacher. You must be a rare student for her to have continued working with you for so long.”

  Robbie’s eyes went wide at the unexpected compliment, and he even blushed a little before clearing his throat. “I—it’s an honor to work with her.” He hesitated, his eyes surprisingly hopeful. “I have a lab out back, where I’m finishing up the charms.”

  He didn’t say anything else, but Elena used almost-questions often enough to recognize when one was being directed at her. She hesitated, knowing that it would be safer to pretend she hadn’t heard it. Private workrooms were a line of familiarity, and it would do no one any good if she crossed this one.


  But surely it wouldn’t do too much harm to simply talk a little shop with someone. It was unlikely she would live long enough to take on a student—it would be nice to pass on at least a few of the tricks she’d learned to someone so eager to learn. “I would love to see it, if there’s time after dinner,” she told him, taking another sip of her drink before glancing at Alan and Marie for approval. “Cam mentioned you might also be interested in some work I’ve done adapting a witch’s broom spell to a flying harness.”

  Robbie’s face lit as Alan nodded. He seemed pleased, as any good father likely would be when someone took an interest in his children. “We’ll make Cam help with the dishes.”

  “I’ll do it!” Gabby piped in, trying to sneak in another serving of potato salad. When Marie stopped her with a stern look, she gave her mom a sheepish grin and put the spoon back in the bowl.

  “You can’t. You’ve been banned from dishes ever since the juggling thing.” Cam sighed theatrically, but there was definite approval in his eyes. Possibly, she realized, because this was the first sign she’d given that she’d actually listened to him about anything. “Okay, fine. I’ll do it.”

  Marie’s smile included everyone at the table. “It touches a mother’s heart to see her children sacrifice like that.”

  ~

  As soon as Robbie swallowed his last mouthful, he hurried outside so he could “get everything ready.” Elena offered to help with the dishes, but Marie told her to sit down and relax. Cam schooled his face into an expression of exaggerated suffering as his mother teasingly dragged him into the kitchen, and Elena wiggled her fingers at him as he disappeared.

  Gabby disappeared, no longer interested once there was no potato salad to hold her attention. That left only her and Alan at the table, and as soon as they were alone he turned that focused gaze of his in her direction. “So, how’s Cam doing?” he asked quietly. “Honest answer, not what you’d say to please the parents. It’ll be awhile before my leg is fully up to speed.”