by James Dale
"It won't take but a minute," Jack promised.
"Very well," Galinor relented, moving aside.
Jack knocked loudly with his good left hand, and heard someone within testily, "Go away." Ignoring the order, he opened the door and stepped boldly inside.
"What are you doing here?" Ara’fael asked sharply.
"I've come to thank Ailicia," he replied, quickly shutting the door in Galinor's face before the elf could enter behind him.
"Cousin!" the princess cried at the same time, rushing to his side. "You are injured! You said he was well!" she said turning to Ara’fael accusingly.
"Well enough considering the circumstances," the Spellweaver shrugged.
"It's nothing really," Jack lifted his right arm and wiggled his fingers beneath the wrapping. The numbness was beginning to lessen by the minute. "It would have been worse if not for your warning. Thank you."
"You are welcome," the princess smiled.
"In the future however," Jack said, "I'd appreciate it if you asked permission before snooping around in my dreams."
"She has already been warned against such further intrusions," Ara’fael replied sternly, causing Ailicia to blush furiously. "Powerful men have powerful dreams. Dreams which are dangerous to the unwary."
"But..." the princess began to argue.
"But nothing child!" the Spellweaver snapped. "What is the First Law Dreamwalking?"
"The Lord of Shadow is not bound in the Land of Dreams," Ailicia answered automatically.
"Did you not recognized his handiwork in this one?" the Spellweaver asked sharply. Apparently, she had already heard an account of Jack's dream.
"Yes, Lady but...but I saved his life!" Ailicia bristled.
"Yes, you did child," Ara’fael admitted with a weary sigh. "But at what cost? The Shadow’s eye is on this man. And for good reason. Now he will have an eye out for you as well. Does that not frighten you?" she asked. Ailicia had indeed grown quite pale.
"Yes," she whispered.
"Yh be praised,” Ara’fael muttered. “If you have learned fear, this night has some value after all. A Dreamwalker without fear does not practice the art long. A fact, I am sure Lord Sheva has oft' voiced before?"
"Yes Lady."
"Then I shall will need to mention it again?"
"No Lady Ara’fael," Ailicia assured her demurely.
"Very well," the Spellweaver nodded in satisfaction. "Lord Bra'Adan, before you took it upon yourself to interrupt us... Ailicia was about to explain to me how she entered your dream. You may as well stay and hear it."
Ara’fael waved him to a place at her feet and Jack quickly did as she said instructed, not wanting the Ailfar woman to turn her shape tongue on him again. Ljmarn's heir or not, he harbored little doubt she would not hesitate to put him in his place as she had the princess. Though for some strange reason he found this comforting. The Spellweaver was the first person he'd met who didn't seem to care one wit about his heritage. Though once or twice already, he’d caught her looking at him curiously.
"Dream patterns are somewhat akin to stars," Ailicia explained. "The brighter the pattern appears, the stronger the dreamer. There are few I have encountered which are as bright as father's. But tonight, there was one which out-shone his pattern like the full moon dwarfs the stars. I chanced it would be yours."
"Strong men dream powerful dreams," Ara’fael muttered.
"After I select a dream," Ailicia continued, "I imagine myself to be a thread of light and I simply weave myself into the pattern. Usually I can only work my way into the outer edges. Close enough to observe, but nothing more. But tonight...once I succeeded in entering your pattern, it was as if I was suddenly being pulled along by some irresistible force. I didn't realize what was happening at first, and had no idea how to stop it once I did. Then...then I was simply there. It was quite a shock a must admit."
"Then what happened tonight was an accident?" Ara’fael asked.
"Yes Lady," the princess nodded sheepishly. "But I am certain I could do it again now that I know..."
"You will not!" Ara’fael commanded sharply. "Is that clear! At least not until Lord Sheva is here to observe you. Understand me child, this thing you have done, it is the greatest discovery made by a Dreamwalker in a thousand years. But it is also dangerous. Remember the First Law. The Dark One is not bound in the Land of Dreams. His cell in Ul’gogrond means little in the dream world. He can slay with his vile thoughts alone."
"Cil’lena told me to be careful what I dream," Jack said. "That she couldn't protect me. Is this what she meant?"
"Cil’lena? As in Ailcil’lena Galad’drion?" Ara’fael asked.
“If there is another, I don’t know her.” Jack shrugged.
"I will hear this tale later,” the Spellweaver replied. It didn’t sound like a request. “What Lord Cil’lena meant was, since the day Yh’Adan placed the Dark One in chains and cast him into Ul’gogrond, the Land of Dreams is the only door through which he can influence the world of the living without his Bloodstone. And he takes great delight in causing whatever mischief he can by this means. All nightmares are of his making. When Graith freed The Seven, he…damaged…the Dark One’s prison to the point the Lord of Shadow can do much more than mischief or cause nightmares. Much more. Dreamwalkers, especially the unwary, are in particular peril from his malice. You would be well advised to heed her warning, Bra’Adan. You above all others, have reason to fear your dreams."
"Your dreams are indeed troubling," Ailicia said with concern. "If I could but..."
"His dreams are no place for you child," Ara’fael scolded. "In fact, I think it would be best for you not to observe any more dreams until Lord Sheva returns to Woodhaven."
"Not even..."
"Not even," the Ailfar Spellweaver said sternly, cutting off her growing objection with a stern glare.
Ailicia surrendered with a sigh of obvious disappointment. There was a long moment of silence as the princess sat sullenly at Ara’fael's feet, while the Ailfar Spellweaver appeared lost in thought.
"Well this has certainly been interesting," Jack said, standing. "I still have a few questions for you cousin. Like how you knew the Krayga were coming, but they can wait. It has been a long day. If you ladies will excuse me? I believe I will try to get some sleep after all.”
"Of course," Ara’fael agreed, dismissing him with an off handed wave.
"Good night cousin," Jack smiled down at the princess. "And thanks again."
"Rest well," Ailicia replied quietly, still stinging from the Spellweaver's rebuke.
"You should try and get some sleep as well," he said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You look tired."
"I do not think I shall find sleep again this night."
"Try," Jack insisted with a gentle squeeze. "Please? For me?"
"If you wish," Ailicia nodded, giving him a curious look.
"I do," Jack said, and held her gaze for a long heartbeat before turning to the Ailfar Spellweaver. "Lady Ara’fael, in all the excitement, I have neglected to thank you for saving my life." He bowed deeply.
"You are welcome," the Spellweaver replied as Jack bowed his way from the room.
Galinor glowered angrily as he appeared in the hallway and Braedan flashed an apologetic smile. "Sorry about the ruse. No hard feelings?"
"Come along your grace," Liam said quickly, steeping between them.
"You did not make a friend of Galinor tonight," the elf said quietly as they began to move away from the princess' quarters, Olen falling in beside them.
"It wasn’t technically a lie,” Jack smiled. “I assumed she’d expect me to show up and thank the Princess. Even though I hadn’t been invited. I'll apologize again in the morning,"
"Where to now m'Lord?" Liam asked. "To see your Lions?"
"I've changed my mind," Jack replied. "Please take me to Arrinor's room. I wish to turn in."
The princes' quarters were only a few doors down the corridor from his sister's.
They found them empty, Arrinor off seeing to the defense of Woodhaven against any further intrusions on this eventful night. Jack found a comfortable chair in an out of the way corner and plopped down with a weary sigh. Liam found him a blanket in the chest at the foot of Arrinor's bed and placed it around his shoulders.
"Thanks," Jack smiled. "You two can go now. I'll be fine here till morning."
"We will be outside if you need anything Lord Bra'Adan," Liam bowed, and they left him to his rest.
Jack wrapped the thick blanket tightly around himself, and shifted about in the chair until he found the most comfortable position. He closed his eyes and took several deep, relaxing breaths, concentrated on an image in his mind, and waited for sleep.
The dream came surprisingly quick. He was in his suite at Count Arthol's estate, sitting in his favorite chair he’d used for reading. So far so good. It was the first time he'd actually ever tried dreaming himself into a certain place. It was night outside. He'd tried for bright, noon-day light, but he guessed there were just some details an amateur at this sort of thing could not control. There was a large, leather bound book in his lap. Holding his place with a finger he flipped it closed and read the title. A Brief Chronicle of the War of the Stones. The Defense of Dorshev. Jack began to read. And wait.
Time passed slowly and he was beginning to have difficulty holding on to the dream when he heard the creak of a door slowly opening. Setting the book aside Jack looked up and smiled as Ailicia entered.
"I was beginning to wonder if you had caught on," he grinned.
"I had some...difficulty convincing Ara’fael to leave," the princess replied. "If she ever suspects why I hurried her off so abruptly, we will both be in trouble. Where are we cousin?" Ailicia asked, looking around the room. “How are you here at all? Are you a Dreamwalker as well?”
"We are in Brythond," Jack replied, standing. "In my suite at Count Arthol's estate. It was the last place I could think of in detail. Well, one I wished to go at any rate. I just imagined myself here as I drifted off to sleep. It felt like the right thing to do. It worked so…"
"It worked very well," she nodded. "But why are we here?"
"It's as good a place to start as any," he shrugged.
"Start what?"
"I thought maybe you might like to try a little experiment," Jack explained. "It came to me while you were explaining your talent."
"What kind of experiment?" Ailicia asked warily.
"You're going to take me Dreamwalking," he replied casually.
"I do not...think it is possible?" Ally replied, “But then…it is not possible for you to be here in the first place. You are the first human I have encountered who could do this.”
“I’m the first one Arrinor says has ever been a Mindspeaker, but I do that easily enough?” Jack shrugged.
“You can Mindspeak?” Ailicia asked with wonder.
“I can cook a pretty decent Alfredo sauce and fumble through Stairway to Heaven on the guitar as well,” Jack grinned. “So…We won't know until we try. Will we?"
"I suppose not," the princess admitted slowly. "And where do you wish us to go? If...we can do this."
"I was thinking...Dorshev?"
"May I ask why?"
"Because that is where we are most likely to find Kiathan Ellgaer," he answered quietly.
"Kiathan? You cannot be serious cousin?"
"Oh, I'm serious all right," Jack nodded gravely. "I want to find out what the bastard is up too. And I'll just bet whatever he's planning will be a part of his dreams."
"You saw what happened when I entered your dream," Ailicia warned him. "I will have little control over events once we enter his dream."
"We're not going to enter his dream," Jack quickly assured the princess. Not tonight anyway. "We'll just be popping in for a quick look see."
"That is all?"
"I promise," Jack said, placing his hand over his heart. "Scouts honor. He'll never know we're there." At least I hope not.
"Very well," Ailicia sighed. "If you are determined to do this thing. Take my hand cousin."
"Just a second. I want to try something," Jack closed his eyes. If he could dream himself to Brythond, then just maybe he could also...When he opened them again, he was wearing sturdy leather breeches, riding boots, and a shining scale-mail shirt. About his waist was a sword. It was not the one had shattered like glass when he had struck the Krayga, but his long lost katana. He drew the blade and tested its balance. It felt real enough and the edge of Hattori Hanzo’s masterpiece glittered razor sharp in the light of the burning lamp. "Well, well," he smiled. "Hello old friend."
Ailicia looked astonished for a second, then quickly closed her eyes. The light sleeping robe she had been wearing when she entered shimmered for an instant before transforming into the familiar green and brown forest attire of an Ailfar warrior. Over her slim shoulders hung a polished Ashwood bow and a quiver of arrows. The princess opened her eyes and examined her dreamwork with satisfied smile.
"I think we're ready cousin," Jack said, offering his empty hand.
Ailicia nodded, placing her hand in his and squeezing tight.
"What now?" he asked.
"Hold onto my hand," the princess instructed him. “Whatever happens, do not let go."
"Okay..."
They were instantly surround by a vast field of twinkling stars, floating weightless in the Land of Dreams.
"My God...!" Jack whispered. "There's so many! How will we...Do you recognize any of these patterns?"
"No. But that is of no concern."
"Then how will we find Kiathan?"
"Our need will guide us," the princess answered. "Hold tightly cousin." They were suddenly hurtling through the heavens, the stars flashing by in a blur of white. Hours later it seemed, the procession of stars finally slowed, and they came to rest once more.
"Are...are we there?" Jack asked breathlessly.
"I...think," Ailicia replied hesitantly. "Shall we choose one and see?"
"Which one?"
"That one looks promising," she said, selecting a bright, pulsing star. It wasn't the most dominating dream pattern, but it was certainly an eye catcher.
"What do we do now?"
"Try to imagine yourself as a thread of light," the princess instructed him. "With the same brightness, with the same ebb and flow of the pattern. You may feel a little strange..."
"I already feel strange," Jack laughed uneasily.
"Lightheaded," she continued. "But it will pass once we've begun to weave into the pattern. Ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be."
"Do not let go of my hand."
The princess closed her eyes and she quickly began to grow less substantial, as if her body was turning to mist. Jack's eyes snapped shut and he began to concentrate harder than he ever had before. I am a thread of light. I am a dream. He repeated the words over and over, trying to recall the exact pattern of the pulsing star they had chosen. Ever so slowly, he felt a warmth flowing through him and a bright light growing in his mind. I am the dream. I am the dream.
"You are a natural cousin," Ailicia's voice was filled with wonder. "Lord Sheva would be amazed."
"Thank you," He thought the words, having no mouth with which to speak. He had no body. He had become a part of the dream pattern. On some cosmic plane, in a place beyond the physical realm, he could still feel his hand gripped tightly by the Ailfar princess. "What now?"
"Now we see whose dream we have chosen," she replied, and drawing him along began to take them deeper into the dream.
Slowly the light began to dim and on the edge of the horizon a place began to take shape. It was like looking through a thick fog at first, with everything dim and formless. But soon a room appeared, a simply furnished sleeping chamber, containing only a large bed and a single, low burning lamp. Two dark silhouettes could be seen dimly on the bed, but as their vision adjusted to the low light, the two forms slowly took shape. One was an older, gray haired man, well into
the twilight of life, and the other was a woman. A young, unquestionably naked young woman, moaning softly as the old fellow's hand roamed expertly over her soft, ripe body. White light flooded Jack's mind and he suddenly found himself surrounded again by a field of stars, with a body once more and a head ringing from the abrupt breaking of the pattern.
"Judas Bloody Hell," he groaned. "That hurt."
"Sorry," the Ailfar princess apologized. She was blushing furiously. "We will select another pattern."
"But we didn't find out if this is Dorshev."
"We will select another pattern," she repeated firmly.
"Okay. Okay." Jack relented, then flashed a playful grin. "Prude."
"That one," Ailicia said, ignoring the barb and pointing to a darkly burning star tinged with a red aura.
The smile vanished from Jack's lips.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Ailicia asked, eyeing to dark star warily.
"Yes."
"Very well," Ailicia sighed, and gripped his hand tighter.
Jack likewise tightened his grip on his dream sword, then nodded. "Let's do it."
"Imagine you are a thread of light..." the princess said quietly.
It was much easier this time. In only a few seconds the pair had become one with the dream pattern and were moving deeper into the weave. A fog again. Dark and ominous. Then a room took shape. Jack at once recognized the throne hall of the Ellgereth palace. But it had changed. Gone were the colorful hangings adorning the walls. Tall windows that once held beautiful stained glass were now empty, jagged holes opening into darkness. In the center of the hall, the Ivory Throne was draped in black velvet. Flanking the chair were four tall spears which had been driven point first into the tiled floor, two on either side. Crowing the butt end of each spear shaft was a severed head. With growing horror, Jack realized he knew the battered faces arrayed around the dark throne. King Ellgenn. Dorad. Duke Morgan. The last...the last was his own. Foul, blasphemous symbols had been carved into the flesh of his forehead and his lips were stretched back in a grimace of pain that marked well the last tortured minutes of his existence.
