The Dream Sifter (The Depths of Memory Book 1)

by Bundy, Candice

  "That's a bit ridiculous, don't you think?" Rilte asked.

  "All for the safety of the Temple, my dear Journeyman." Bauleel winked. "Now let's see, it's been some time since I've visited this room ..."

  The Matriarch ransacked the dresser, pulling out various articles of clothing. "We can't leave here with you in that Technician-style pantsuit. Will this fit you?"

  Rilte looked at the mottled brown tunic and leather pants she offered him. "They should."

  "I'm afraid I don't keep extra men's shoes on hand, however. So your plain black shoes will have to do." Bauleel pulled out some clothing for herself constructed of the same mottled brown material.

  Rilte turned away from her and changed into the clothes. The cloth changed colors from brown to green to gray depending on how the light hit it.

  "There's something familiar about this fabric. Yet I can't quite place it."

  "I expect you will," Bauleel replied. "Can you help me with these boots?"

  Rilte turned and looked at Bauleel struggling with a boot while seated upon the couch. She wore a matching set of the tunic and pants she'd given him. Seeing the clothes on her, he knew immediately. "Wait a moment; these are Guardian's clothes!"

  "Yes, they are. Now, are you going to help me with this boot or just stand there and watch me fumble with this clasp?"

  Rilte knelt down and helped her with the boots, which were of the same colors but made of thick leather. "I don't understand. Why are we dressing as Guardians?"

  "Because, no one questions the movements of Guardians. Not even other Guardians," Bauleel explained with a wink.

  Rilte stood back up. "I get the impression you've been planning this escape for some time."

  "Well, not today's, in particular. I am known for the occasional excursion." She stood slowly, walked over to the mirror and braided her hair.

  "Where do you tell your staff you've gone?"

  "It's easy. I tell them I need to spend a day or two in quiet reflection, and they leave me alone. No one questions me."

  Bauleel tied her braid off with a leather band, and then walked over and sat down at the desk. She slid out an unlocked drawer and pulled out a backpack. She loaded a scanner, a compact style message terminal, a gun, and a small first-aid kit into the bag along with some other items he didn't recognize.

  "You're really going to just walk away, and never come back?" Rilte asked.

  Bauleel met his gaze unflinchingly. "Never is a long time. Perhaps I will return, if I can manage to get some things straightened out, but I doubt it. I'm tired of playing the Matriarch. It's exhausting and not without risks." She zipped up the backpack and hefted it over her shoulder.

  Rilte shook his head, not understanding the Matriarch's reasoning. If she wasn't coming back, would he be able to return to the Technician's wing? Then again, there wasn't much left to return to now.

  "Let me carry that for you."

  "Oh no, you get to carry the canteens and cloaks. They're located in the bottom dresser drawer."

  Rilte scratched the nape of his neck. "Is there anything you're not prepared for?"

  "Just your endless questions," Bauleel replied. She pulled a flashlight out of the backpack. "C'mon, we'd better get climbing."

  Rilte located the two full canteens and slung them over his back. He found a spare backpack, placed two of the Guardian cloaks into it, and then slid it over his shoulder.

  "Climbing?"

  Bauleel turned on the flashlight and lit up the far room with it, revealing a set of rising stairs cut directly into the rock.

  "How far?" he asked.

  "For how horrid I feel, way too far. Just hope you don't have to carry me," Bauleel said, and perhaps he would, if her body didn't cooperate. "Don't worry though, once we're at the top we can wait in the Temple orchards until nightfall, then we can leave without being seen. Besides, I need to write a few messages."

  "To your staff?"

  "Sadly, no. I worry about Camille, she has a wonderful heart and I'm guessing she's too dedicated and loyal to quit, which means Natre will work her to the bone. No one should have to put up with Natre's moods!"

  "I'm sure she will quit, if necessary. You trained her. She's got to have a good head on her shoulders."

  "That's kind of you, Rilte. Anyway, I have a few friends outside of the Temples who will expect to hear from me." Bauleel started climbing up the stairs. "I bet they're wondering what in the world I've been up to these past two weeks."

  "I don't doubt that," Rilte replied, following her. "Especially if they know you half as well as I do."

  *

  #BEGIN TRANSMISSION#

  #ROUTING CODE: ALL ANEMOI IDS, VARIOUS COM LOCATIONS, OUTBOUND ONLY#

  #ENCRYPTION: HIGH#

  #PRIORITY: HIGH#

  Greetings to the Anemoi,

  In case you haven't already heard through other channels, we've had a recent incident at the Technician's Guild here at Raven's Call. After Matriarch Bauleel was incommunicado for two weeks, I stepped in and assumed her post, and thus discovered the unfortunate condition of the Technician Guild halls.

  I have already written to Chieftess Raza considering the escape of one Terem Zebio. I will trust in her to relay all necessary details.

  Most importantly, only seven Technicians remain at Raven's Call after this tragedy, so my first priority is to restore the Technician Guild as quickly as possible. I am scouring the rosters of our local schools to find the brightest minds, but I'm afraid that I must make an unusual request if the Guild here is to not only survive, but also in fact thrive.

  I humbly request Matriarch Heilen of Resounding Cliffs Temple discuss with her local Guild the possibility of permanently relocating a segment of their seasoned members here to assist with the rebuilding and direct future research efforts. In addition, if Chieftess Raza could spare a few Guardians to assist with their relocation efforts I'd be much obliged.

  Please know your efforts will assist not only myself, but also the entirety of the Az'Un during this most difficult of times.

  Respectfully,

  Matriarch Natre

  P.S. Bauleel dearest, if you're out there listening, could you please let us all know you're doing all right?

  #END TRANSMISSION#

  *

  #BEGIN TRANSMISSION#

  #ROUTING CODE: GUARDIAN SEPT, ALL OUTPOST & ROAMING COM IDS, OUTBOUND ONLY #

  #ENCRYPTION: HIGH#

  #PRIORITY: ALERT#

  Guardians,

  Approximately two weeks ago the Technicians Sept at Raven's Call Temple suffered a containment breech. A stable mutation escaped and decimated the Sept and then escaped from the compound. Over five dozen lives were lost.

  City and outpost managers are to allocate all available resources and perform an extensive audit of all persons within their zones within the next three days. All Guardians are to search in pairs, and report their locations back to headquarters at dawn and dusk.

  No exceptions.

  If these scheduling changes mean travelers are inconvenienced and have to wait a few days, so be it. This is now everyone's top priority.

  All Guardians on ranger operations will perform ongoing level three sweeps of their assigned regions from now forward until the threat is found and eliminated. For those who serve at an outpost, please enable your personal locator beacons to immediately signal in the case of your death.

  Pictures and data files on the suspect are attached. His name was Terem Zebio, of the Zebio Sept in Raven's Call. It is possible he is hiding out in the surrounding forest or he may have traveled some distance already. Guardians stationed at Raven's Call should take extra care in case he attempts to contact the Zebio Sept.

  Most importantly, once you acquire the target, do not engage without backup. Assume once identified he will attack.

  Chieftess Raza

  #END TRANSMISSION#

  CHAPTER FORTY

  "Well?" the Guardian asked. "Don't just stand there. I deserve an answer, an
d I want it now."

  Before she had a chance to answer Rai was distracted by a prickly sensation ran up her back and neck. He's trying to read me! "Hey, stop that!" Rai demanded, sure the Guardian was the cause.

  The sensation abated. "Explain yourself. Otherwise I'll get what I need to know, one way or the other."

  Had anyone she'd read been aware of that similar prickly sensation? She considered returning the favor, but worried he'd know immediately if she tried.

  "I'll explain, you just knocked the wind out of me." Rai rubbed the back of her head.

  "Oh please. You're made of tougher mettle than that."

  Such familiarity. "Why don't we go in and sit down?" Rai said, unaware of what lay in the room beyond. He didn't know how much she knew, and she'd play that card as far as it would take her.

  The Guardian stared, and for a moment, Rai thought she'd lost the gambit. "Whatever. I can always make up an excuse to the Durmah if we run late."

  He walked into the room and flicked on a switch. Rai followed, amazed by what she saw. This was not simply some ordinary supply warehouse, which would have had boxes and bags of supplies orderly stacked in piles and heaps. Instead, it was evident to Rai that this was, at least at some point in time, someone's living space.

  In the middle of the room, two semi-circular indigo couches framed a low green marble table. A large, white, translucent, sphere-shaped fixture hung from the ceiling, illuminating the entire room with soft light. Subtle sky blue tones and wisps of clouds filled the painted domed ceiling. The overall effect was visually striking. No expense had been spared.

  Off to the right was a small kitchen, including a table, sink, stove, small refrigeration unit, and storage cabinets hewn from what appeared to be local lumber. How could this place exist out here in the middle of nowhere? What was it used for, and by whom?

  At the far left of the room stood a large computer terminal, similar to the old-style ones Rai had seen pictures of in the history schoolbooks at Kiya's Grace. A large black padded chair sat in front of a u-shaped black console. A tall clear display screen rimmed the edge of the console, giving it a somewhat fishbowl-like appearance. The terminal wasn't active, and Rai noticed a starburst-shaped crack in the center of the screen, as if a human fist had damaged it.

  Two doors on the opposite side of the room and a dark hallway beyond the kitchenette beckoned Rai to explore further, but she doubted the Guardian's humor extended that far.

  He sat down on one of the couches. "Are you going to sit or just stand there admiring your decor?"

  My decor? This place was once mine. She took a seat on the couch across from him, somehow hoping the space and table might provide protection. From him, or her past? Rai wasn't so sure anymore. How did she know him? How well? Was it possible for your body to explode from the internal pressure in your mind? None of this made any sense. How could she, at only sixteen years of age, have had this life?

  "I'm on the verge of losing my patience with you, Kilawren."

  "Where should I start?"

  "Start by explaining how much you remember, when you shouldn't be able to recall anything from your past."

  "Well, I remember everything after waking up in the crèche at the Temple in Raven's Call, clear as a bell."

  He glowered at her for a moment. She was altogether too familiar with that expression on his face. "And before that?" He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

  "It depends."

  "On?" The dangerous edge to his mood focused wholly on her, daring her to retreat.

  "Will you kill me if I'm honest?"

  The tension in his shoulders softened. "I've been keeping you alive so far."

  Rai took a leap of faith. None of this made sense, and yet there he was, staring her down. He knew her, was it too much to hope they'd once been friends and that he was willing to help her? He wasn't acting like someone out to hurt her. She'd have to trust he'd help her, and be honest with him. Rai wished she could remember his name.

  "Most of what I've remembered has come through my dreams. Or, more accurately, my nightmares."

  "You're saying it's through the dreamland of your subconscious that you've come it this far?" Rai nodded. "That's amazing. Yet you've made it here," he gestured to the room, "and to this forest, managing to drag your adoptive family along with you. Honestly, that's a bit hard for me to swallow."

  Rai shrugged. "It's the truth. Between the dreams and the ... unusual ... senses I have, I guess you can say I've had a hard time taking things at face value."

  "I told Bau you were too clever and resourceful for your own good, not that she listened."

  Bau? Who's that? "Thanks, I think."

  "Describe these dreams to me." Rai didn't get the impression he'd settle for less than thorough accounts. What did she have to lose?

  Rai described the dreams, in the order she'd experienced them. She recounted hooded figures chasing her through the glens of Harper's Sorrow--and how they'd called her a traitor. The Guardian listened in silence with a tormented expression on his face. She described dreaming of finding thallium salts in the storehouse, and waking to that very smell on the air at the Stime Sept's farm. She also described remembering the name of Jeweled Cove in Headmaster John's history class, and dreaming about how a large bird had attacked and eviscerated her on the shore. That particular story, especially when she talked about the lady dying on the beach, caused the Guardian to frown.

  It was good to talk about her nightmares to someone who'd known her, and yet at the end she felt exposed and vulnerable to a man who she still didn't remember. Again, Rai noticed the familiar prickling sensation and became irritated, wondering how long he'd been snooping in her thoughts.

  "Pardon me. Force of habit." The sensation stopped at once. "My name's Graeber, by the way." He watched for her reaction.

  "Thanks, Graeber." Rai shifted uncomfortably. The name struck a chord with her, but she couldn't quite place it. She tried to read him, but got nothing. He didn't even react to her attempt. It appeared he was much better at this.

  "I'm amazed at the detail of your dreams. It's an unfortunate complication, and one I'm afraid causes difficulties to our charade."

  The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. "What do you mean, charade? You mean my amnesia?"

  He raked a hand through his hair, exposing his face. Exposing the raw emotion he no longer tried to keep hidden. "I'm sorry. I know this hasn't been easy on you."

  "That's an understatement. Look, if you know how to cure my amnesia, do it. Do it now."

  "I'm afraid I can't do that."

  "Can't, or won't?" He met her gaze, sorrow evident in his eyes, and said nothing. "Don't I get a say in what happens to me?"

  "You already have, you just don't remember it."

  Once again, Rai felt like he'd knocked the wind out of her. "You're implying I chose to make myself an amnesiac?" He nodded. "What possible purpose does that serve?"

  "It kept you hidden, and alive." Rai searched his expression for any sign of his typical insincerity, and found none.

  "That doesn't make any sense, Graeber!" Rai stood up and walked around the room. "How does forgetting my past hide me? None of this makes any sense! Not this place, not you, nothing!"

  Graber stood and blocked her pacing. "Look, I don't have time to explain right now, but trust me, you made the choice to walk away from your past, and it has kept you safer."

  "How in the world can you expect me to trust you?"

  He made a low, growling noise. "What alternatives do you have? Right now, I'm the best chance you have of staying alive."

  "The Durmah stand by me."

  Graeber shook his head. "You don't understand the scope ..."

  "Explain it to me!"

  Graeber walked toward her, as if he sensed she was about to bolt. "Stay calm, all right? I'm trying to figure a way to salvage this situation."

  "Look, even if I did once decide to hide myself away, now I want to know why, and how
."

  "No, the less you know the better." He held a finger to his lips, gesturing for her silence. "Understand this: without your memories your personality has shifted, and thus your signature reads. The more you remember, the more you return to that previous you, and that previous signature. It's absolutely imperative that not happen."

  "Why?"

  "Because, if any of those hooded figures from your dreams reads the real you, are able to recognize you, they'll kill you without hesitation." He spoke in a whisper, commanding her attention.

  "The dreams were real?" Graeber nodded agreement. An icy shiver ran up her spine. "Why did they want me dead?"

  "You were a part of their group, our group, and you broke the rules. They wanted to stop you, and to make sure that no one else followed your example. So they ordered your death, to ensure you'd never be a problem for them ever again."

  Rai remembered the voices in her nightmare calling her traitor. "Does this group have a name?"

  He hesitated a moment. "The Anemoi."

  This meant nothing to Rai, and yet it was good to have a name for one's enemies. "Why aren't I dead? In my dream, I remember them catching me, and then I wake up."

  "They did catch you. They beat you nearly to death. When the time came, your sister and I asked if we could cremate your body ourselves, and thus finish the job."

  I have a sister? Rai wanted to ask more about her, but it would have to wait. "Hold on, so you and my sister are also members of this 'Anemoi' group?"

  "Yes. We're all three members."

  "So how does the Anemoi relate to the Septs and everything?"

  "It doesn't, and I'm not going to explain any more about them to you. However, you should know all of the special abilities you have, like reading others and your enhanced eyesight and hearing, every member of the Anemoi has those as well. This is why you must be very careful not to read others or otherwise display any signs of your gifts. If they catch you doing it, they'll know you're one of them."

  "But when they encounter me, why wouldn't they just look at me and say, 'hey, there's that girl we wanted dead and dusted'?"

  "Because, when we took you away we healed you, shifted your appearance, and removed your memories. The process took many months, but it has kept your appearance and your signature from revealing your true identity."