Circle of Dreams Trilogy

by Linda McNabb

  “I want to be as good a runeweaver as that,” Tercel said as Calard stood up and walked away from the wheel without even checking what he had done.

  Zaine watched, fascinated to see that the wheel stayed in one piece when the driver grabbed hold of it and pushed it upright.

  “Good as new,” the driver said with a slap on the wheel. The splinter marks and lines where it had been split were still there, but they appeared to be glued together. The rune marks began to fade and within a dozen heartbeats they had disappeared completely. “Boys, help me lift the carriage to put it back on.”

  The wheel was replaced and they were back on the road within a few minutes. Zaine stared out the window, pretending to take great interest in the scenery, as he tried to understand what had just happened. How could drawing pictures on a wheel do what it had done? The runes Calard had drawn were in the first few pages of the book as well, and he had used nothing from further through it.

  “We’ll stop at the next town,” Calard called out the window to the driver, but, before he had even finished speaking, the carriage began to shake again.

  “Not another wheel?” Tercel asked in surprise as they all held on to whatever they could grab.

  The carriage stopped again, but this time it just slowed down gently so it definitely wasn’t a broken wheel.

  “What is it this time?” Calard threw open the door and jumped out, glaring at the driver as if it were all his fault. “What the …”

  Zaine stepped out the carriage and saw what Calard was looking at. The horses were loose of their reins and were racing off down the road.

  “Can he make new horses?” Zaine muttered a little sarcastically. Tercel frowned at him as he, too, jumped down to the dirt road.

  “Sorry sir, I don’t know how they got loose. The reins just seemed to snap.” The driver looked very apologetic and confused. “We’ll have to walk into the next town. It’s not far.”

  Zaine felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He turned, sure that someone was behind him, but there were only bushes and trees to be seen.

  “They just snapped …” Calard was rubbing his smooth chin as his eyes narrowed with suspicion. He turned to look directly at Zaine, and his gaze made Zaine uncomfortable. “Just how much runeweaving do you know?”

  “None,” Zaine replied honestly.

  “Really.” Calard didn’t sound convinced, and he leaned into the carriage and took out his canvas bag. He took the book of runes off Tercel and put it carefully into the bag before starting to walk up the road. “Driver, you stay here so that nothing gets stolen. We’ll send someone back with horses.”

  It took almost an hour for them to reach the next town and Tercel looked exhausted. Zaine assumed that he didn’t do much in the way of exercise. Calard rented them rooms at the inn, sent someone back to rescue the driver and carriage, and then requested that a table be set up outside in the street.

  “What’s he doing that for?” Zaine asked Tercel as they watched from a few feet away. It was the same set-up as it had been in his home town.

  “We’re on a search … I would have thought you would know that by now. He’s responsible for making sure we get more runeweavers to begin their training while they are still young.” Tercel seemed surprised, but he explained anyway. “If a child can open the book on the first attempt, they are well suited to training and Calard will take them with us.”

  “And if the child doesn’t want to go?” Zaine asked.

  “It’s never happened yet,” Tercel assured him. “Why would anyone not want to go to serve their king?”

  “He’s not my king,” Zaine replied bluntly, ignoring Tercel’s shocked stare. “Besides he’s not king yet.”

  He leaned against the wooden logs that formed the outside of the inn and watched the local children rushing up to try their hand at opening the book. All went away with a copper and it was late evening when no more came to the table.

  “Nobody here,” Calard said with a sigh as he tucked the book away, Zaine’s eyes following it longingly. “We’ll stay here the night and then go on.”

  “How many more towns?” Zaine asked. He had noticed that nobody was even watching him during the ‘testing’, and he planned on slipping away into the crowd next time.

  “This is the last one,” Tercel told him. Zaine frowned; he should have gone while he had the chance.

  Calard moved away from the table. A few seconds later a creaking noise made Zaine look above him at the overhang of solid timber shading the entrance to the inn. Another creak had Tercel and Calard looking up as well. With the sudden realisation that the overhang was about to fall, they all dashed out into the street. The wood came crashing down heavily, splintering on the stone pavement that ran along the street, and smashing the table into small pieces.

  “Are you all okay?” The innkeeper rushed to the open door and stared in shock at the mass of broken wood that blocked his way out. “What in the name of the king happened here?”

  “I’ve a feeling I know,” Calard said with a glare in Zaine’s direction.

  A crowd began to gather and discuss loudly what would have happened if there had been anyone under it. They were mainly adults, and Zaine, not being over-tall for his age, found himself looking at shoulders and backs as they all crowded as close as they could to see what had happened.

  He couldn’t see Calard or Tercel, and with a jolt he realised that here was his chance. He wriggled past people, ducked under their arms and crawled between their legs – heading for an alleyway he had seen next to the inn.

  He reached the alleyway without anyone trying to stop him and ran as fast as he could. He didn’t care where it took him, so long as it was away from Calard. Reaching the end, Zaine looked at the narrow streets ahead, trying to decide which way to go. Deciding that he should head out of town, he turned down a smaller alley, hoping it would lead around the back of the main street and out of town.

  He moved as quickly as he could in the gathering dusk. Several times he heard voices up ahead and he slipped into the shadowed doorways that were probably the back entrances to most of the main street’s shops.

  The alleyway led him out to the edge of town, and he peered around the last of the buildings, wondering if it was a good idea to be running out in the open on the main road. Calard would be sure to be looking for him by now and the road out of town was probably where he would look first.

  Zaine slipped back into the alleyway and crouched in a doorway that didn’t look like it was used very often by the amount of spider webs all over it. He knew he couldn’t stay here, but he also knew that he had to wait for full dark before he made his escape.

  “I saw a lad run down here.” A voice drifted down the alleyway and Zaine’s heart started beating faster. He jumped up and decided that he would have to make a run for it after all. He took one last look out at the main road, where people were still out and about, and stepped out, his head down so that nobody could see his face.

  He forced himself to walk at a normal pace and without being noticed reached the end of the road where it joined the main north road. He was about to make a dash for a small copse of trees when he heard a shout ring out behind him.

  “There he is!”

  Zaine didn’t even pause to see who spoke – he ran! He remembered seeing a small forest not far from the town. He knew a dozen different ways to hide his tracks in a forest and not get lost himself.

  He was breathing hard by the time the forest came into sight and he could hear the steps behind him getting closer. Imagining Calard coming up behind him, Zaine pushed himself as hard as he could, and his lungs burned as he sucked in the cold evening air.

  He was only a few steps away from the safety of the trees when he felt a hand on the back of his shirt and was jerked off his feet. He kicked as hard as he could, but strong hands held him firmly.

  “Let go of me!” Zaine yelled in frustration. “I don’t want to be a runeweaver!”

  A hand clamp
ed over his mouth and Zaine twisted to get free.

  “Quiet!” a voice ordered softly. Zaine peered into the almost full darkness and his eyes went wide with surprise when he saw who had a hold of him.

  CHAPTER FIVE - NO TURNING BACK

  “Davyn!” Zaine exclaimed softly as the old herbmaster removed his hand, allowing him to speak.

  “You can run fast when you need to, can’t you?” Davyn said with a slight irritation in his voice.

  “I thought you were Calard,” Zaine explained and looked harder at his friend. Davyn looked different somehow, but Zaine couldn’t put his finger on it. His face was the same, sort of. He still wore the same clothes as he had always done, green trousers, pale shirt and a brown cloak. But …

  “We have to go into the forest. They saw which way you came. I was about to signal you to come over to where I was waiting, but you took off in the other direction.” Davyn walked off and pulled Zaine after him as he headed quickly for the trees.

  “You’re not old!” Zaine said, as he suddenly realised what was different. Davyn wasn’t hunched over any more and the heavy lines on his face were gone completely. He looked like a man in his fourth decade.

  “We’ve no time for that right now,” Davyn replied. “They won’t be far behind us.”

  Zaine hurried after him and they ran deep into the forest with Davyn leading the way. When they had gone a fair distance they backtracked and walked in their own footprints, then headed off to the west, covering their escape with a small branch to wipe out their footprints.

  They ran through the forest without pausing and came out of the trees near a small hill about an hour later. Davyn led them up the hill, and when they reached the top he turned and looked down at the forest.

  “We’ll be able to watch them from up here,” he said, barely even puffing from their long run.

  “Won’t they see us too easily?” Zaine asked. The rising sliver of moon cast a gentle glow over the landscape.

  “Not for long,” Davyn replied. He picked up a stick and began scratching runes in the dirt. Zaine watched with interest as he saw a pattern begin to emerge. It was a long, complicated pattern, but when he spoke the words that identified them he realised it was a lot simpler than he thought. He hadn’t realised that he was saying the words aloud until Davyn stopped and stared at him.

  “You know these runes?” he demanded in a shocked voice.

  “Umm …” Zaine didn’t want to admit that he did, but it seemed that he had no other choice. He did not want to lie to his friend anymore, so he just nodded and waited to see what Davyn would do.

  “You finish it then. Make it a circle around the tree, large enough for us to sit in with comfort.” He wasn’t joking by the serious look on his face.

  Davyn handed Zaine the stick and stood back several steps. Zaine looked a little uncertainly at the old – young – herbmaster before stepping up to the partially completed circle of runes. He drew the first sequence of runes slowly and carefully, but the next ones came more quickly and easily. In just a few minutes he had the circle complete, and he stepped back to check that there were no gaps between any of them.

  “Will that do it?” Zaine asked as he put the stick down and turned to Davyn. The herbmaster didn’t answer for a minute as he walked the inside of the circle and examined each rune carefully.

  “How long have you been runeweaving?” Davyn’s face was serious but not angry, and his tone held no hint of any trouble Zaine’s answer might bring.

  “That’s the first one,” Zaine answered honestly. He felt strangely happy at completing the circle. As if a part of him had finally found what it was looking for. Unfortunately, Davyn didn’t appear to share his joy.

  “Your first rune circle is an invisibility cloak?” The herbmaster’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief.

  “Look, there’s people down there,” Zaine said, pointing down to the forest, hoping that he could divert Davyn’s attention away from runes for a while.

  “There are rather a lot of them,” Davyn commented as he sank down to sit cross-legged inside the circle of runes. “Does he know how much you can do?”

  “No, he only saw me do about five pages.” Zaine sighed, as the subject was obviously not going to go away. “But he thought it was me who caused all the problems today.”

  “That was me,” Davyn admitted. “I wasn’t sure you were going to make it out from under that roof in time. You waited long enough.”

  “Sorry, I was busy trying to think of a way to escape. I don’t want to be a runeweaver.” Zaine sat down and rested his chin on his knees as he watched the lights from the lanterns moving around down in the forest.

  “You might not have a choice in the matter …” Davyn said sadly, “… if you can do as many pages as I think you can.” He drew the green leather-covered book out from his cloak and held it out for Zaine to take.

  Zaine stayed motionless. He hugged his knees and his chin dug into them as he stared at the book. Here it was, right in front of him, and being offered to him. All he had to do was reach out a hand and he could take it. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he tried to battle the desire to take the book. If he took the book, Davyn would see how much he could do and his fate would be sealed. He didn’t want to be a runeweaver, but he did want to touch the book. He wanted to so badly that he found his hand stretching out to it even as his mind screamed not to.

  “These runes are from the first ten pages,” Davyn said as he pointed to the circle around them. “Can you go further than that?”

  Zaine wasn’t really listening. He was staring at the book and tracing the rune with well-practiced ease. He flicked over the runes so fast that one hand was turning the pages as quickly as the other traced the runes. He knew he was well past the tenth page, but he was so engrossed that he did not look up. He vaguely heard the herbmaster’s sharp intake of breath when he reached the eightieth page, but he continued on, feeling a rush of pleasure as each page turned. He continued smoothly until he reached the hundredth page. He knew this was the one he had struggled with for so long, and he just stared in amazement as he traced the runes and it flicked over like all the others had done.

  “I did it!” Zaine exclaimed loudly. He looked up at Davyn in delight, but the expression on the herbmaster’s face drained away his pleasure. He felt his cheeks begin to colour and he wished he hadn’t succeeded after all. “I was stuck on that page for ages …”

  Davyn still did not speak. He stared at Zaine with a blank look of disbelief that gave him the look of a simple-minded man. Zaine squirmed uncomfortably and then handed the book back to his friend.

  “I’m sorry,” he said as Davyn took the book and looked at it, still open to the next page, and then back at Zaine. “I should have told you when you asked last time.”

  “How long?” Davyn’s voice sounded hoarse and thick, as if he had a sore throat.

  “I was stuck for at least a whole moon cycle,” Zaine replied, hoping that it was a good answer. He did not want to upset the herbmaster any more than he had already done.

  “No, I meant how long since you found the book?” Davyn shut the book softly and slipped it back into his cloak.

  “Five years,” Zaine admitted softly.

  “You learnt more than any other runeweaver could learn in fifty years … and you did it in five?” Davyn’s voice was rising with each word, and as he finished he jumped to his feet and began pacing around the inside of the rune circle.

  “Fifty years?” Zaine repeated in surprise.

  “I made a promise … An oath … And now …”

  Davyn was muttering to himself, seemingly unaware that Zaine had spoken. He continued to pace, looking up every now and then to stare sharply at Zaine. Finally, the herbmaster sank back down opposite Zaine, looking at him with unblinking eyes that were rimmed with tears.

  “Why are you younger now?” Zaine asked. He hoped the question might stop the herbmaster staring at him so intently.

  “What?” Da
vyn blinked and frowned as his concentration was broken.

  “You used to look like an old man,” Zaine prompted.

  “When you reach page eighty you become a life-master and never age again,” Davyn said slowly. “But you can look older by drawing a rune circle around yourself on your skin.”

  “Page eighty?” Zaine said with a slight gulp. No wonder he looked young for his age. He had reached that page almost a year ago. “You mean I’ll never look older until I die?”

  “No, that’s not what I meant.” Davyn looked apologetically at him. Then he pretended to take great interest in the hard-packed earth on which they sat. After a few minutes, he looked up again, obviously unsure what words to use to explain what he meant. “You’ll never look older … but you’ll never die either.”

  Zaine just stared at Davyn in shock.

  “I was supposed to make sure you were kept well away from any runes and anyone on a search for runeweavers. It was my job, my oath … and I failed.” Davyn sounded so sad and depressed that Zaine managed to drag himself out of his shock.

  “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help it. The book just seemed to call me to it,” Zaine explained. “I knew it was wrong and that you had hidden it for a reason. It’s my fault, not yours.”

  “When you drew this circle,” Davyn pointed to the rune circle, “I thought you would know the first ten or twelve pages … but I never imagined you would have surpassed all the living masters.”

  “So what do I do now?” The thought of having to go off with Calard after all filled him with dread.

  “I don’t have the time to hide you somewhere and it would be too risky to leave you back in the village. Calard is bound to keep looking for you since runeweavers are so scarce now. I’ll have to take you with me to Willow Castle while I decide what to do.” Davyn was staring out into the dim moonlight. “Your mother will be so angry with me when she finds out about this.”

  “My mother?” Zaine felt the blood drain from his face in a split second and his heart skipped a beat. “You know my mother?”