Dream Magic

by B. V. Larson

  What was that boy doing in the Fae sanctuary? On the surface of it, the motive was understandable enough. The boy had relatives there, by all accounts.

  But the situation ate at Brand. Time was wasting, and he had no idea how precious each minute might be. Hob had suggested the boy would ask him for something and it would be dangerous for Brand to help him. The way the Axe caused him to look at the situation, the goblin lord had been the first stranger found behaving oddly inside Castle Rabing today, and now Trev was the second.

  When his messengers told him Trev was in the sanctuary but that was all they’d learned, Brand couldn’t stand it any longer. He summoned a squadron of the mounted guardsmen and they went cantering for the wooded corner together with flapping blue cloaks. They dismounted at the edge of the trees and marched into the cool gloom beneath. There was no point in riding in like invaders. Being on foot, Brand hoped, would put outlanders at ease.

  But he could see as he penetrated into the grove his plans weren’t working out as intended. Strangely-shaped and bizarrely-colored eyes observed them from behind seemingly every tree trunk. As they walked deeper into the quiet wood it seemed to him that the growths were more dense. The wooded corner was almost as dank and still as the Deepwood. It had grown thick over the years and now sprawled over a fifth of the land within his walls. No wonder the peasants grumbled so loudly about it.

  He pressed forward, pushing aside branches that clawed and resisted his steps. No one came to greet him and his men. The guardsmen were no more at ease than the hiding locals. They kept silent, but their eyes were wide and they winced whenever a branch snapped or a bird twittered.

  Brand thought about the Axe on his back. He tried not to, but it was impossible to keep it from his mind. Would he draw it today again at some point, over some unexpected provocation? He didn’t know, but he could not stop thinking about it. He knew on one level that these thoughts were leaking to him from the Axe itself.

  After tasting such a thin gruel of blood at Old Hob’s throat, it now wanted a flood to glaze its fine blades. Like a drunkard, a taste of red wine only whetted a greater burning thirst for Ambros. Quenching that thirst would take a river of blood, if it could be done at all.

  His party finally met up with two Wee Folk guardians at the entrance to the village proper. The village was really only a circle of trees and huts, but the Fae took it seriously, so Brand tried to do the same.

  “What an honor,” said the first Wee One. She was a tiny female, but there was a needle-like sword on her belt.

  “Indeed, sister,” said the second, a wild-looking fellow wearing a hat of gray fur and rat-tails.

  Both of them bowed. Speaking in unison, they identified themselves as Ida and Aden.

  “I’m Lord Rabing,” Brand responded formally.

  The female known as Ida twittered. “We know who you are, Axeman! But we are wondering: what is it you seek here?”

  Brand’s lips twitched in irritation. Were these not his own lands? Was he not within his own walls? Perhaps letting these folk squat here for so long unmolested had been a mistake. It seemed they now believed he was intruding on their territory, rather than the other way around. They’d changed from polite guests to surly squatters.

  The Axe shifted on his back, and Brand rolled his shoulders uncomfortably to calm it. The Wee Folk watched him attentively, noticing the interplay. But they didn’t say anything further. They waited for him to speak.

  “I’m seeking one known as Trev,” Brand said. “Is he among you today?”

  “Trev?” said Aden, “The half-breed? Indeed, he is.”

  “May I ask you to lead me to him?”

  The two exchanged glances. “We had a bargain, Axeman,” said Ida.

  “What?” snapped Brand. “I’ve made a civil request, and I expect it to be honored. These are my lands, and you live here at my invitation.”

  “What you say is mostly true,” said Aden. “But we made a bargain, let me remind you. We are to live free and unmolested on this tiny sliver of land.”

  “Yes,” Brand said with difficulty. “That is the essence of our bargain. Now, I wish you to lead me to Trev. Immediately.”

  The two Wee Folk looked nervous, but determined. Behind him, Brand knew his men were watching the exchange with growing tension. There could never be perfect trust between the Fae and humanity. Both sides had suffered too much at the hands of the other over the centuries and they were too different in outlook to completely understand one another, even now.

  “If you would, kind sir,” began Ida, stepping forward, “swear not to arrest Trev, and we will do as you ask.”

  Brand’s brow furrowed into a storm. “Why must I so swear? What has he done to wrong me?”

  The two looked surprised. “Nothing, by our account. But humans are so picky. Perhaps, in your eyes, he has performed a crime. We are not sure.”

  Brand sighed loudly.

  “All right,” he said, waving his hands in defeat. “I do so swear, for this one day, I will not arrest Trev unless both your people and mine agree I should.”

  “Excellent!” said Aden, turning around and bounding away. “Then follow us!”

  They traveled through the village to the far side, where they came to a hut. There before it sat Kaavi. She was alone.

  “Kaavi?”

  “Brand!” she cried, springing up and running to him.

  Brand could not believe it. She had not aged a day. She was still as young and nubile as ever. Had she truly squatted here for years, doing nothing of note, while he sought to build a kingdom around her? He wasn’t sure how long she’d been here, but he was glad to see her.

  Telyn had made him swear not to seek her out, as there had been certain moments of unexpected contact between the two of them in the past. Brand had followed his wife’s wishes for years—but he still dreamt of Kaavi from time to time.

  “Have you come to visit me?” Kaavi asked. “It’s been so long. Is Telyn…still around?”

  Brand opened his mouth then closed it again. “She’s abroad right now, visiting Riverton I should think.”

  “Oh. Would it be…an extended visit?”

  Brand didn’t know quite what to say. Kaavi was wasting no time in embarrassing him. Already, his guardsmen out in the lane were whispering among themselves. If this conversation should get back to Telyn, even a hint of such talk…

  “Kaavi, I’m looking for Trev.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Not for me?”

  “I’m always happy to see you, but—”

  “But you haven’t found time to come down here for years and do just that. How long is a girl supposed to wait?”

  There was a guffaw out upon the roadway behind him. Brand reddened.

  “Is Trev here or not, good lady?”

  Kaavi made a show of looking around her tiny camp. “I don’t see him.”

  Brand sighed. Kaavi stirred her tea and poured two tiny cups.

  “Here, sip with me for a moment. Perhaps we can help one another.”

  “All right,” he said.

  Brand turned and ordered his guardsmen back to their barracks. Darkness was falling at last, and since he’d agreed not to arrest Trev, he thought it would be easier to get to the bottom of things if he sent his troops away. They left with a mixture of relief and disappointment. Then he sat with Kaavi and sipped her tea.

  “Why are you hiding Trev from me?” he asked her.

  “Why did you bring soldiers with you from your castle?”

  They looked at one another, and finally Brand nodded. “You’re protecting him. In my experience, a man who needs protection is not an innocent man.”

  “That depends on who is pursuing him, and why.”

  Brand rolled his eyes. “I’ve sworn not to arrest him today unless both you and I think it should be done. Is that not guarantee enough? Bring him forward so I may speak with him.

  Kaavi furrowed her pretty eyebrows together, and Brand thought she was going to continue ev
ading him. But at that moment, Trev produced himself and joined the other two at the fire.

  “May I have another cup of your tea, Auntie? I like it very much.”

  “Only half,” she said, pouring it out and handing it to him.

  Brand looked at Trev in surprise. He’d grown so much. He’d been a child the last time he’d seen him, and now he was taller than Puck had been.

  “You look like your father and mother both,” Brand said.

  “That’s not uncommon in such situations,” Trev said seriously.

  Brand laughed. This broke some of the tension between the three, and the two Fae joined him, laughing with him.

  Brand paused to look at the cup in his hand. The walnut husk was empty. What had that tiny draught been? Could it have cooled his mind? He wanted another drink and almost asked for it. Kaavi was stirring her kettle slowly and glancing at him, smiling.

  Brand opened his mouth, but then closed it again. She’d only given her own kinsman half a cup in his presence. He figured one cup was enough for now. His mood was elevated, but he wanted to be able to think, should the need arise. He set the walnut husk down on a rock, and Kaavi glanced at it in disappointment.

  “Let’s talk seriously, Trev. Why have you come to Castle Rabing today?”

  “I’m on a quest, and I came to ask for help.”

  These words concerned Brand. Could it be that Old Hob had spoken the truth? His first inclination was to offer the boy any aid he could provide—but Hob had warned him, and he was wary.

  “Tell me about your quest,” Brand said.

  “I can’t do that.”

  Brand’s face fell. “And why not?”

  “Because you might try to stop me.”

  “How can I help you if you won’t tell me what you want?”

  “I can ask you questions, and you can answer them.”

  Brand nodded. “All right. Ask. But I must warn you that I may not answer you, and if I do, you might not like what I say.”

  “That’s part of the danger with questions, isn’t it?”

  “Just so!” said Kaavi suddenly.

  Brand looked at her. She was sipping a third cup of her tea, and it seemed to be affecting her now. Her eyes were slightly glassy and unfocussed, but she seemed fully aware of her surroundings. Brand surmised she’d grown accustomed to her own brew.

  Brand looked back at Trev. “Ask.”

  “Where would you seek a Jewel of Power?”

  Brand narrowed his eyes. “Seek to possess it, you mean? They all have masters, do they not? Oberon wields the Red since Piskin died. I wield the Amber, and Tomkin still masters Lavatis. Then there is Pyros, which Gudrin never parts with, and that leaves only the Green which presumably is owned by Myrrdin, wherever he’s gotten himself off to. But those aren’t the Jewels you’re interested in, are they?”

  “No,” Trev said. “Those you’ve listed have owners.” Trev looked at Brand expectantly.

  “Well, there is of course the Lavender. Old Hob still has that—does he not?”

  “I would think you could answer that better than I. The word is he visited here today and you two spoke in private.”

  “Only after you frightened your own guardsmen half to death!” Kaavi exclaimed unexpectedly. She gave a whoop of laughter.

  Brand smiled at her. She was becoming drunk, he thought. She returned his gaze frankly, and it took an effort of will for him to rip his eyes from her fine face and turn them back to Trev again.

  “Are you inquiring about Osang?” Brand asked Trev. “Old Hob’s one true love?”

  “No,” Trev shook his head again. “What of the others?”

  Brand thought for a moment. “That leaves only the Dark Jewels. The White, the Quicksilver—and the Black.” Brand stood up in sudden alarm. He almost reached for his Axe, but managed to control his fingers when they were two inches from the handle.

  “The Black!” he shouted. “You know where it lies still, in the Riverton crypt. You were there when we laid it to rest with all those it had killed. Unless you are trying to tell me it has moved, or you seek it!”

  Brand had been hoping to catch him, perhaps making him look sheepish, but he could tell that wasn’t going to happen. There was too much shameless elf-blood in the boy’s veins. Trev just smiled as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

  “Calm down, Brand,” Trev said. “I didn’t name the Black as my goal.”

  “You also said you were sworn not to reveal your quest. So it might be that you seek Necron. Let me warn you, boy: I will not allow you to wield it. Not for a day, an hour, or even a second.”

  Brand felt a flood of suspicion. The emotion was almost overwhelming. Everything was instantly clear to him. Trev had been there when they’d buried the Black and entombed it. He had wielded it briefly and almost died because of its cold touch.

  “Listen to me,” Brand said, still standing. “You must not dream of the Black. I know you touched it when you were young. Maybe it calls out to you. Maybe it comes to you in your dreams, begging to be let out. Don’t let it grip your mind, Trev. It’s an evil thing.”

  Trev frowned back at Brand. “I do dream of it, from time to time. How could I not? But I don’t think I’m in its grasp. I don’t feel a power from it, an urge to love it as you love that Axe which twitches and twists on your back.”

  Brand noticed then that the boy spoke the truth. His Axe was squirming on his back, trying to push up the haft and get it into his hand. Slowly, Brand lowered his hand away from the handle, and it eased back down disappointedly.

  “All right then. If not the Black, then that leaves only the White and the Quicksilver. Both are lost and haven’t been seen for an age.”

  “What can you tell me of them?”

  Brand shrugged. “I don’t know much. Only what Myrrdin and Gudrin have told me. Both of them know more than I. The White is a chip of the original Sunstone. It is sometimes referred to as the Sunstone, and is supposedly pure. Some say it can warp minds like no other Jewel can. The Quicksilver is immune to the power of the others. I don’t know if it does anything else. But in any case, I can’t tell you where either might be, or where they were last seen. That’s all I know of them.”

  “I thank you in any case,” Trev said seriously.

  Brand smiled faintly. He felt that he’d dodged a dangerous dilemma. Old Hob had warned him not to tell the boy anything—and he hadn’t. Not because he refused, but because he honestly didn’t know the answers. He felt relieved. He hadn’t wanted to turn the boy away, but he hadn’t wanted to take the chance Old Hob’s warning had been given in earnest, either. This way he hadn’t helped him or misguided him, and his worries died away.

  Kaavi was looking at him again, smiling.

  Such a lovely face, he thought. It seemed to him she had a greater pull upon his heart than even the last time they’d been sitting around a fire together. He’d aged, and she hadn’t. But he knew she didn’t look at it that way. She didn’t think of herself as too young for him.

  He gave his head a shake, and then found her hands cupping his. He looked down, and saw his walnut husk was in his palm. The brew shone slightly in the dark forest, glimmering like liquid gold.

  “Now that your worries have passed, will you take a half-cup more?” she asked.

  Brand grinned and nodded. He threw down the drink, and it tasted delicious. He soon forgot about Trev and all the rest of his problems.

  He talked and laughed with Kaavi until it grew late and the fire dimmed.

  Chapter Three

  Trev’s Bargain

  In the morning, Brand awoke groaning. It wasn’t dawn, his customary time of awakening, but at least an hour past. He forced himself into a sitting position.

  It took a moment for him to realize that he was not at home in his keep. He was not in a sumptuous bed with eiderdown cushions and dyed furs for blankets. He was in a gloomy forest, with birds singing.

  Blinking his bleary eyes, he saw a thatch of twigs over his he
ad. They were woven together in an intricate pattern, with each leaf tucked precisely so as to shed rain but not block light.

  Realizing where he was, he scrambled up, and almost knocked down the hut. He came out of it, looking back. He saw a bed of furs cast on the dry floor. There was an impression there that matched his form, and next to it was evidence that a much smaller body had slept beside him.

  He looked around and at first saw nothing. No Kaavi, no Trev. He tried to recall how the night had gone…my how that elf-brew could hit a man! He’d been wary of it until Trev’s questions had fizzled out, and then he’d given in. He remembered accepting another half-cup—but had there been more? He could not recall.

  He rubbed his face, eyes wide in alarm. He looked into the hut again. Had he bedded Kaavi? Finally, after all these long years, had he done what he’d wanted to do all along? He couldn’t remember.

  In his dreams for a decade or more he’d lain with Kaavi numerous times. Now, those dream-like whispering memories were entwined together with last night, the memory of which felt like a hazy dream to him now.

  “There you are, sleepy-head!” Kaavi cried, making him whirl around toward the trees.

  She carried an armful of sticks she’d gathered to the firepit and cast them onto the smoldering ashes. The embers beneath were still hot, and it looked like they’d been carefully banked and covered to keep them alive. She prodded the pit carefully, and soon a tongue of orange flame danced up and licked at the fresh fuel.

  “I know how hungry a man like you can be in the morning,” Kaavi said. “It’s been so long since I’ve had visitors I’ve almost forgotten how to cook.”

  Brand put out his hand and took her arm, pulling her around to face him.

  “Kaavi,” he said, breathlessly, “did we…? I mean, did I…?”

  “What?” she asked looking up at him wide-eyed. She was so small, she looked to be half his size or less.

  “I don’t remember what I did last night. What was that tea you gave me?”

  “A potent brew,” she said. “That’s why I give it out in such tiny cups. I didn’t think a man your size would be taken away, but…”