by Kya Lind
When his DreamLady knocked, Traven opened the door. She looked surprised at first, but then moved gracefully inside. They were in his mother’s parlor, the pretty furniture and carpeting making it a pleasant and cozy room; a contrast to the cold outside. A fire burned merrily in the fireplace.
Traven gestured that she should take a seat. He could tell she was leery of the upcoming conversation. She refused to meet his eyes. She sat stiffly on the settee, and glanced around the room. She was looking anywhere but at him.
“So,” he decided to jump right in, “the kid is a Mirage.”
She nodded without looking at him.
He leaned back against the sofa, seemly relaxed, but the DreamLady knew better.
“When did you plan to tell me?” he asked with deceptively quiet tone.
She fidgeted with her silver bracelets. “There are certain things that I am not at liberty to disclose,” she stated just as quietly. “I cannot tell you all, . . . For this I am most regretful.” She hesitatingly looked up at him.
He could not allow himself to be so moved by the expression on her face again.
“The tiger was a good choice,” he conceded, “Can he do other animals as well? Besides the housecat, I mean.”
His DreamLady’s head jerked back to face him again. She slowly nodded yes.
“Tell me of something else he has done.”
“Well,” she was fidgeting with her bracelets again. “When you were surprised by the Kingdom guards … to them you looked like an old man and his grandson on a plow horse,” she stated as though she was personally proud of this accomplishment.
Traven’s mind stumbled again. The kid had changed his appearance too. And that was why the kingdom guards had not been interested in them until they saw the hoof prints. Something the kid could not change just like shadows.
“Can he make himself invisible?” That would be some handy trick Traven thought.
But his DreamLady shook her head no. “When you change what a person perceives, they know something is wrong. All eyes are drawn to a Mirage. It is a puzzle the mind grasps at. If the mind is given something to see - odd, unusual, and beautiful” A memory of Benette flashed across the ceiling. “Then the mind accepts the deception. If there is nothing, the mind forces an answer and can see through the ruse.”
Traven nodded, trying to understand. “So how did he get the sleeping potion in the Royal’s beans?”
“He walked in as one of the guards.”
Traven nodded. “Very clever.” After a second of silence, he cleared his throat. “About this afternoon, I apology for my part, and repent for my lack of protection toward my charge.” Traven grimaced knowing that without the kid he would have sold his soul to those men.
“No apology is necessary. I have trained for years to withstand the persuasion. I know how hard it is. I am surprised you have not encountered a Persuader before now.”
“Oh, I have been duped by them before, but never like that. Now that I know what it feels like I am sure I will recognize it immediately next time.”
Traven frowned. He hated this formal, stiff conversation. He wished they could go back to the intimate atmosphere of the last encounter they had had.
“As we get closer to the Shadow Mountain, we will encounter more and stronger Magics,” his DreamLady added worry in her voice.
“Who is at White Dragon Tower?”
She looked at him, her face reflecting her uncertainty. “I don’t know,” she admitted slowly.
Traven scowled.
“Sir Talone, my tutor, would know, but he was arrested before he could leave. . . .The tower was at one time a university for the study of the Magics granted by. . . . granted by King Rayhand. But his son, King Roylan had it destroyed and most of the great Masters of Magic killed. His grandson King Reyland is now..” She voice trembled and faltered. She swallowed “. . .our king.”
Traven nodded; his knew all that. What he didn’t know is why they were going there now. “So no one is at the tower, but we travel there is get help?” his eyebrow went up in question.
“The safest place to be is where your enemy believes you are not.”
“And you believe that we will find someone, and they will help you with the Allure that impersonates your father.”
His DreamLady nodded. “My father holds a powerful position. It is in their interest to stop him.”
Traven frowned. He knew of several dukes and a judge that’s positions if used to gain power could upset the whole country.
His DreamLady rose to her feet. “I must go now,” she said moving toward the doorway.
He followed her. “Goodnight, Lady Beth,” he said taking her slender fingers in his. He breathed a slight kiss on the back of her hand. She watched him without moving. He smiled and then asked a question that popped into his head, a reason to get her to linger a second longer. “Why does the door stay after you leave?” he asked.
Her face registered shock. She jerked her hand loose from his and stammered, “The door stays?”
He nodded, confused by her alarmed reaction.
“Oh, this is terrible,” she clutched at the doorframe as though to physically move it. “Oh, what have I done? Lady Talone is going to horsewhip me.” She spun around her eyes wide with fright. “I cannot come here anymore. I must not. It is too dangerous. I am sorry. I cannot see you again. This door must fade.” She wrung her hands. “Please go to White Dragon Tower as quickly as possible.” She reached a hand out to touch him, but stopped herself. With a sob caught in her throat, she dashed through the doorway. The door slammed close, but the structure remained solid and real.
Traven frowned. Why was she so upset about the door? He reached out and turned the doorknob. It would not budge. The door was locked.
Chapter 14
Again the next morning they cleaned the wound. Traven was happy that no yellow showed on the cleaning cloth and he could fist his hand again. The kid scrambled around making a cold breakfast and packing camp. Traven eyed his travel companion as he worked. A Mirage, huh? Not a bad skill to have, he reckoned. Traven sighed. His breathe crystallizing in the air. Traven rubbed his hands together to warm them before pulling on his gloves. The left one was difficult to get on.
He guessed he could live with a Mirage. He mounted up and pulled the kid up behind him. He just wished the kid wasn’t so much trouble, and he smelled to high heaven. Oh, did that kid need a bath. Traven grimaced. He did, too, but that was just going to have to wait. He sat Barn to his regular ground-eating pace and they rode north into the tall Shadow Mountains.
They stopped at a shallow, clear creek that ran through a mountain pass at noon. Traven waited as the kid slid off the horse before his dismounting himself. The kid quickly tripped off to find firewood as ordered. Returning shortly was a full armload. Traven bent to work on cooking up some food.
The boy trailed down the creek a ways, and sat down on a large flat stone near the creek’s edge.
The boy unbuttoned his coat but kept his stocking cap on. He gazed at his reflection in the creek. The tears slid noiselessly down his cheeks and dripped onto his properly folded hands. He stared at his hands. They were so dirty. He reached forward and washed them in the ice cold, creek water, but without soap little of the stain came off. The tears continued to drip. Reya stared at her reflection again. She had never been this tired, or scared, or dirty before. She wanted to scream and stomp her feet and demand that life go back to the way it should be. The way it was supposed to be. The way she remembered it being, before . . . before she had discovered the Allure . . .before she had escaped . . . before she had sent Boy to his uncle’s to find help for Sir and Lady Talone. . . before she had borrowed that big red warhorse . . . . before she had learned to like that big, loud Kingdom guardsman.
What was she going to do? She should have asked how much farther it was to the tower when she had visited him last night, but she hadn’t. She kicked herself. She had been too distracted by the color of his eye
s, and the way he looked at her like she was the most beautiful person alive. She should have kept her head, and remembered to ask. Now, she couldn’t. If she asked as the boy, he would recognize her voice.
Now she couldn’t ask him in the night dreams. She could never go back to visit him again. It was too dangerous. She shivered. What had she done wrong? She knew her talent wasn’t dreamweaving. Lady Talone had showed her the basics, so she would recognize it if someone tried to use it on her. She was sure Lady Talone never expected her to try to use this knowledge or that she even could if she tried. Reya frowned. Lady Talone dreamwove all the time even during the day, even in a room filled with silver. She marched into and out of Reya’s head any time she wanted. Well, she always asked permission first. Reya scowled. Is that where she had messed up? She had not asked Captain Traven for permission that one time. Well, whatever she had done to cause that door to stay, she couldn’t risk becoming mindbonded with her companion, even if he was the bravest person she had ever met.
Reya thought back over the events that had happened since she had talked that big, red Barn out of his nice, warm stall. That horse was a brat. He was hard-headed and ornery. She would swear that he did things just to be hard-to-live with. He had dumped her in the dirt twice the first day. Each time dancing away from her with laughter in his eyes, but he had always come back for the apples. Trying to load him on that ferry had been a nightmare. The only good thing about that horse was he sure could travel. He never seemed to tire. Reya remembered that she had been cursing her choice until she realized she was being followed by those four big, ugly guys. Once she realized they were tracking her, she had ridden Barn for hours. Not really knowing if she was headed in the right direction. Every time she stopped in a town and asked direction they were different from the last directions.
She remembered the night she had first seen Captain Traven. He had come into an inn and eaten dinner. She grinned; she didn’t know then that she had borrowed his horse. Reya frowned. The next night had been a really bad night. Images of the inn and the drunk and the Royal guards swirled through her head. She still had yellowed bruises from where she flew off over Barn’s head and hit the road before being yanked up and hauled before that group of soldiers. She had surprised herself with her quick thinking. Not only had she got her mirage back up she had projected an image of Boy much younger than he was now. They had let her go, but she had known that she couldn’t run away and leave the kingdom guardsman to face the music alone. By then, he had already saved her once. Reya pushed the memory of the drunk away.
When she had barely escaped the four big, ugly guys later that same night, she had decided she needed help and who better than the Kingdom guardsman who had already defended her from intended harm? She had taken the sleeping potion from Lady Talone’s room on the spur of the moment as she was packing to leave. Without it, she could not have rescued the guardsman.
Reya frowned as she looked at Captain Traven’s head bent over the fire pit. He was bossy, barking orders all the time, expecting her to jump at his every word. He kept dragging her into towns that had way too many people to convince with her mirage. Holding a mirage was hard, exhausting work. She didn’t think she could have done it if she had not been so scared all the time. She was sick of sleeping with her head under smelly horse blankets so he would not see her true self.
She looked at her hands again; the chipped nails with the circles of dirt under each one. Another tear dripped. She remembered a time when she never dirtied her hands. She wished now that she had braved taking a bath that night in the inn. She wished she had overcome her modesty and climbed into that tub. Oh, she knew in her head that if the guardsman had woken up she would have only appeared to be a young boy in the tub. But knowing something in your head and being able to strip naked in a room with a strange man were two different things. She wrinkled her nose at her smell. A bright blush stained her cheeks as she remembered that big man stripping naked in front of her and climbing into that tub. She had never been so embarrassed in all of her life.
Reya sighed. She remembered being so convinced that she could take care of herself if she only had the chance. She had been so full of ignorant pride. Reya laughed ruefully. She couldn’t take care of herself. She could barely make edible biscuits.
“Come eat,” barked Captain Traven. The boy slowly climbed to his feet and walked back to camp, buttoning up his big wool coat as he went.
Traven watched the kid as he handed him his plate. He got the sense that the boy had been crying, but as he studied the kid’s face, he could see no evidence of this. Traven shrugged. He may never figure this kid out. His eyes were drawn back to the kid. He recognized this as what Lady Beth had said about eyes being drawn to Mirages. It made a whole lot of sense in a strange sort of way. He secured the area, cleaned up camp. After they had cleaned his shoulder, he settled down in his bedroll and drifted off into slumber land. He couldn’t wait to see her again. Did she mean it about not coming back? Traven waited, his eyes on the door.
But his DreamLady did not come.
The next morning Traven awoke tired and frustrated. He snapped at the kid, and growled at his horse. They quickly packed and remounted. Traven frowned at his bad mood. He knew it wasn’t their fault that Lady Beth had not come. But it wasn’t his either. He knew it was the presence of the door. He shrugged. He liked the door being there. He did not want it to go away. It made him mad that she did. Well, that was too bad, he decided. He was going to do everything he could to get the door to stay. He frowned. And how did he think he was going to do that? He shook his head. He didn’t know, but he knew he wanted the door to stay. He wanted desperately for her to come back. Traven paused in his thoughts. These feelings were new to him. Was she persuading him? He examined the feelings - turning them this way and that, testing their strength and endurance, comparing them with others. No, he was not persuaded; these were his own feelings, his own worries. He frowned down at his hands resting on Barn’s saddle horn. The kid was asleep against his back. His shoulder was stiff but not screaming anymore. These were truly his feelings. He wanted – needed Lady Beth back in his life, back in his dreams. He felt empty without her. It didn’t seem to matter anymore if she was a Magic, or bossy, or demanding. He wanted her back. He frowned. She had said it was too dangerous to come back. What had she meant? Was there a way to get her to come back? He thought of all the reasons that she had come before. Three reasons mainly: one had been to yell at him for taking the kid into large groups of people, and another was for going the wrong way. The last one was because he had been injured. Traven thought about this last one. Well, he really didn’t want to get wounded again. He flexed his fingers of his left hand. The stab of pain raced down his arm. Well, what if he turned around and went south would she come back and yell at him then? He smiled at his thoughts.
But the dangers of what lay behind them kept him moving northward. The temperature was cold enough for snow. Traven watched the clouds over the peaks of the Shadow Mountains. This whole quest was crazy. “Let’s go wander around in the Shadow Mountains looking for a Tower in the winter with tons of guards on our tail. Sounds like fun,” Traven told himself amused.
They stopped and made camp for the night. The deep darkness of the valleys between the high rocky peaks made it impossible to move on. Traven settled down in his bedroll and drifted into sleep. Always watching the door, but Lady Beth did not come.
When he woke the next morning, he sat up and dusted the coating of light snow off his bedroll, and kicked the kid on the bottom of his boots. He waited until the bag of silver was tossed out, and bending picked it up and dropped it in the saddlebag. Traven scouted the area. He saw that the small ribbon of valley floor between the steep rock cliffs was close. He frowned when he realized that made it difficult to see much beyond the immediate vicinity. He started a fire and made breakfast. The kid scurried off around the bend, but came back a short time later with more firewood. Traven frowned into the flames. He didn’t
know exactly where the tower was. He didn’t know where the pass through this small, crowded valley lay. They could easily wander around in these mountains until they met with an accident, or became so lost they couldn’t find their way back, or died exposed to the freezing temperature of the high mountains. If they were being followed, they would be easy marks in these tight, shadow-filled spaces. He kicked at the large limb in the fire pit. He had promised to take the kid, and he had meant it, but now he didn’t know what he next move should be. Track farther into the mountains or backtrack and find a guide. Neither choice seemed to be a good option. He looked at the kid sitting across the fire from him. The kid’s boots were close up against the firepit. His stocking cap was pulled low around his face and the dirty oversized coat seemed to swallow him whole. Traven thought he had never seen a more pathetic sight. Well, one good thing, if he decided to turn around and left the mountains, he would bet that kid would run tattling to Lady Beth. Traven frowned again. Why, could she talk to the kid still, but talking to him was “too dangerous.” He kicked the burning log again sending sparks into the cold air. He growled in frustration. If she would just come back, he could explain the situation before she started ranting at him again. Traven smiled ruefully to himself. If she wanted to show up and yell at him, he would take that too.
They finished breakfast. Packed the supplies, and cleared the camp. Traven buried the evidence of the fire and their presence. Mounting up, he pulled the kid up behind him and nudged Barn back the way they had come. The ground was like stone, cleaned by the rushing of water that dropped from the high stone faces of the tightly placed peaks. The peaks were close together, but their sides did not blend. Instead, giant rock peaks thrust up from the stone floor hundreds and hundreds of lengths straight up into the air. The water runoff had washed the valley floor clean of soil. The valleys were at most only fifty or so lengths across and at the narrowest point they were too tight for a man to squeeze through. The valleys wandered in all directions, a colossal maze with no markings to indicate the way. Traven shook his head. He didn’t like this place. His ears strained to hear what may be around the next bend, his eyes strained to see into the dimly lit corridors between the stone cliffs. They had named this insane piece of geology correctly, Traven grimaced. The Shadow Mountains were impossible, terrifying, and dark.
