To Dream of White & Gold (Death Dreamer Legacy Book 1)

by R. K. Hart

  Though Lorcan had been to Kingstown twice, and had lived in Eilan since the age of eight, he realised that he had no notion of how Eilins outside the Court lived, or of how they taught their children, or the stories they told them at night. At the age his father had given him a sword and started training drills, Cathan Valson had taken his tiny daughter on rounds with him, and she had watched, fascinated, as he tended his charges. At the age Lorcan’s uncle had taught him to shoot with a bow, she had started school and learned to recite the Eilin scriptures and had befriended a tall, thin girl with long brown hair and hazel eyes. While he had been at lessons with a seemingly endless stream of tutors, learning languages and philosophy and strategy and history, she had been playing with lambs on her neighbour’s farm, lying back in the long, thick grass to watch the clouds track their paths across the relentless blue of the Eilin sky.

  And when he had left Kell and his parents for the Illarum, after losing his mind to the sky for the very first time, she would traipse up the hallway and into bed with her sister, and Maya would tell her stories of the fae until she went to sleep.

  Lorcan twisted his cuff around.

  When night came, the girl’s voice was hoarse with talking. Katrin stopped them by a clear patch on the side of the road. Dylan took the horses and started to rub them down, while Ella clambered over the boundary fence to collect sticks and bark for a fire. They piled it up and Lorcan held his hands over the wood and channelled a surge of illae; the sticks caught immediately, blazing bright until he coaxed them to settle. Lida blinked, startled; he could hear her questions, though she voiced none of them. It was a natureworker skill; their gift was closest to weatherworkers, and Lorcan had sat through many of Brigid’s lessons, though he had no aptitude for growing songs or feeling the earth.

  He boiled some water and tipped some leaves into a pot; when it was ready, he poured the tea and dug through his pack to find the pot of Kellith honey. He spooned some into the Myrae girl’s mug and handed it to her.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, surprised.

  He nodded but did not speak, and went to help Ella and Alys prepare the food.

  They were all tired, and there was not much talk while they ate. After they finished, they climbed by silent consensus into their sleeping bags. Lida hesitated, and then settled herself between Lorcan and Katrin. She lay on her side, her head pillowed on her arm, her face turned away; all Lorcan could see was her mass of unbound hair, the blonde sun-streaks turning gold in the firelight, and her small hand behind her head, curled into a loose fist. Unlike the northerners, she had no knife within easy reach; there were no large wild animals in southern Eilan, and it seemed likely that she had not even considered sleeping armed.

  After a while, she turned onto her back, and then slowly, almost reluctantly, settled onto her other side, facing Lorcan. For a moment, they watched one another warily, and then she gave a small nod, and closed her eyes.

  When Lida opened them again, she was in the white place, floating above three glowing golden lines, each about a handspan wide. She let herself rest as she watched them. They were not still, but rather gave the impression of flowing water, as if something was constantly moving through them; one had far more ripples than the others, the gold like a beaten mirror. After some time, a fourth line appeared, swiftly followed by a fifth, much brighter than the rest. The beaten line flickered, disappearing only to reappear moments later. Curious, Lida reached out to touch it.

  She found herself on the shores of a huge, clear lake. Its surface was so still it was almost glass; she could see the sky reflected in perfect detail. Its shores were of white sand, which faded quickly into lush grass. Snow-capped mountains stood in the background, their summits disappearing into fluffy white clouds.

  ‘It is perfect, is it not?’

  Lida turned to see Katrin, dressed in Brinnican warrior garb, standing behind her. Her hair was braided tightly back, and she had a long, wicked-looking knife strapped to her thigh.

  ‘It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,’ Lida said truthfully. ‘Are we in Brinnica?’

  ‘Yes. This is l’Lac du Kali. Her Court lies that way.’ Katrin nodded to the west.

  ‘This is where you grew up?’

  ‘Yah.’

  ‘I wonder that you ever wanted to leave.’

  One of Katrin’s hands shifted to her stomach. ‘Want is perhaps not the word. But I think you understand why I did.’

  Lida thought back to the dream she’d interrupted, and, deciding that there was no use in feigning ignorance, nodded.

  ‘Tiernan said you might visit me. He thought it might be easier at first, for you to visit those closest to you. How did you get here?’

  ‘There’s a white place,’ Lida said. ‘There’s nothing in it but lines that look like ribbons of gold. I touched one, and came here.’

  Katrin frowned. ‘Dreamlines,’ she said, after a long moment’s thought. ‘There is a Brinnican story about Andastra following dreamlines to find a lost child. The story describes them as lines of glowing power.’

  ‘That sounds like them.’

  ‘The white place, though …’ Katrin stared across the lake. ‘I had a patient once, who had been in a very bad accident. I thought for many days that he would die. He eventually woke, and I asked him what he remembered. He knew nothing of the accident, but he said that he had been in the white.’

  Lida shivered.

  ‘It may not be the same,’ Katrin said gently. ‘But be careful, yes?’

  They stood silently. A light breeze carried over the water, stirring Lida’s curls and carrying tiny flakes of snow.

  Katrin gave her a smile; there was something sad in it. ‘The sun is rising, Lida,’ she whispered. ‘Best wake, now.’

  ***

  The second morning followed much the same way as the first, except that Lida switched places with Alys and questioned her about Brinnica. Lida knew some things from school, and from the little that Cathan and Mikal had told her, but she was curious about the Kali and the links between the tribes. Ella and Katrin broke in occasionally to answer or elaborate; Dylan had fallen back into his sullen silence. When Lida could think of no more questions, Alys tested her on some Brinnican words, though Lida struggled to wrap her tongue around them, preferring instead to listen to Alys’ musical lilt as she named the things they could see around them.

  In the late afternoon, Lida realised that the landscape looked familiar, and the Little Lifeblood shimmered in the distance. Uneasiness bloomed in her stomach and Alys’ voice faded into the background as she stared at the blue.

  As they got closer, she began to fidget in the saddle like a child during their first riding lesson. Sacred noticed her tension and became flighty, shying at nothing, her knees reaching higher and higher as she stepped until she was almost dancing, with Lida on her back like an unwilling partner. When they walked through the little village and the river was before them, Sacred started forward, straight into Bright Eyes, who kicked out at her in surprise. Lida struggled to keep her seat one-handed as Sacred leapt to the side; Lorcan slid from Midnight and grabbed Sacred’s bridle, murmuring under his breath to settle her.

  Lida glowered at him, for he had not spoken a word to her all day, not even when she’d taken him a cup of coffee during the lunchtime stop. She swung from the saddle and all but threw herself to the ground, leaving Sacred with him, determined to get the ferry trip over with as quickly as possible. She stomped her way to the jetty with Katrin following close behind to pay their fare.

  The ferry was docked on their riverbank, so Lida tried to ignore the fear creeping up her throat and stepped on board. The ferryman remembered her, and kindly walked her all the way to the centre of the raft, where, as she had done before, she sank down to hug her legs to her chest with her good arm, resting her forehead on her knees.

  The current was strong - much stronger than the last time - and the ferry rocked as the horses were led aboard. Lida closed her eyes.

&n
bsp; The ferryman called out and cast off quickly. It was immediately apparent that it was tough going; Dylan offered his assistance, and a spare pole was detached from its home on the rail. The raft shuddered as the pair struggled to hold it firm, roiling on the surface of the water.

  Lida’s head spun; she could taste the vomit at the back of her throat, and it took all her willpower to let it go no further, though she began to shake with the effort. There was a sharp list to the side and she threw out her arm to keep stable, crying out as she jolted her chest and shoulder.

  She felt the pull of illae on her skin and in the air, and a moment later, Katrin sat before her.

  ‘Can I take your hands, cila?’

  Lida swallowed hard before she awkwardly shrugged her arm from its sling and held her hands out before her, keeping her eyes firmly closed. Katrin’s fingers encircled the back of her forearms, her thumbs pressed firmly on a spot just above the inside of Lida’s wrists.

  ‘I have not travelled much by sea,’ Katrin said softly, ‘but a Myrae captain told me once that there is a point here -’ she began making small circles with her thumbs ‘- which is supposed to help. You press down for three minutes, then rest, then begin again.’

  Lida’s temples throbbed in response, sending sharp bolts of pain behind her eyes. She moaned.

  ‘Breathe, Lida. All will be well.’

  Lida tried to do as she said, but with every exhale her stomach roiled, and she swallowed in time to keep its contents down. After a while, Katrin’s thumbs stilled, but she kept their pressure on the points on Lida’s forearms. When she started up the circles again, Lida’s stomach gradually settled, though it did nothing for her headache. The pain was so great that she was afraid to open her eyes.

  ‘How far across are we?’ she whispered.

  ‘Nearly half-way.’

  There was a sudden shift up and then a fall back down as the raft navigated a change in the current. Lida felt as though her brain had turned to mush and was sloshing around inside her skull; Katrin’s hands tightened on her arms as she swayed, keeping her upright. Lida began to shiver, and the ache in her shoulder spread through her neck and chest.

  The ferry eventually bumped into the jetty. Lida listened to the bustle as it was secured with ropes and Dylan stashed the second pole away. Katrin murmured something and a moment later strong arms gathered Lida up and carried her onto the shore. When Lorcan had settled her gently onto the grass, Katrin took her hand and Lida felt the pull of illae and a wave of warmth over her skin, radiating up her arm from where Katrin touched her skin. When it reached her head, the savage thump in her temples subsided to a dull ache. Lida shuddered when it stopped, craving the warmth.

  ‘I’m too tired to draw it all,’ Katrin said, ‘but this will help until I can make you some willowbark tea.’

  Lida nodded, shaky and drained, and opened her eyes.

  Katrin peered at her. ‘Can you ride? Just a little way?’

  Ella led Sacred to her, helping her into the saddle where she sat swaying, locking her legs in place as best she could.

  Katrin urged them on for the best part of an hour. When she finally stopped, it was clear why she’d pushed them so far: she had pulled up at a wood, enveloping a tiny clearing. The evening sky was overcast and heavy, and the copse would provide shelter if it rained.

  Alys offered to see to Sacred and Lida gratefully let her, collapsing as close as she dared to the tiny fire Dylan started, shivering. She was in something of a daze, and it seemed only a moment later that Katrin was pushing a cup of something hot into her hands and watching closely as she drank it. Katrin tried to give her food, but Lida refused it, and so the Brinnican woman gently pushed her into her sleeping bag instead, stroking her hair back from her face until she closed her eyes.

  ***

  Lida was the first to wake the next morning, after a sleep free of any dreams but her own. The nausea and headache had gone with the night, though she was saddle-sore and had slept on her bad shoulder. She slipped from her sleeping bag as quietly as she could, pausing briefly as Katrin sighed. Lorcan, who had stretched out on top of his blankets as if it were still midsummer, did not stir at all. Lida added more wood to the fire and placed a heavy pot over the kindling flames, then dug carefully through Katrin’s food pack for coffee.

  Lorcan had brought a special jug for the stuff, and Lida made it as she had seen Ava do, adding ground beans first and pushing down a circle of stiff cotton mesh, taut over a silver frame, before adding the just-boiled water. She left the jug near the fire to keep it warm and found a plate and their bread, lightly toasting pieces over the flames. By the time Ella sat up, stretching and brushing her straight red hair from her eyes, Lida had also made a pot of tea and found the butter.

  Ella sniffed appreciatively. ‘Oh, that smells good. Here - you can’t do that with one hand.’

  Lida let her take the knife and the butter, and went to give the horses some oats. They were clearly hungry; the grass in the clearing was short and dry. Sacred plunged her nose straight into the feed, though Midnight was more polite: she nudged Lida’s hip and received a scratch to her shoulder in return.

  The promise of coffee and toast had woken everyone else when Lida walked back to the fire. Alys was deftly braiding her hair; Lida watched her, fascinated. Even with two good hands, Lida could not do what Alys was doing: she used five strands of hair rather than three to create a pattern across her scalp that reminded Lida of a woven basket, albeit one made from something like white birch.

  Alys smiled as she bound the plait with a length of cord. ‘Do you want me to do yours?’

  Lida nodded, clumsily folding in front of her; Alys gently tilted back her head. It took Lida a little while to realise that Alys was doing something different for her: she was braiding Lida’s hair diagonally from her left temple, the thick plait falling over her right shoulder. When she was done, Alys spun Lida to survey her work.

  ‘I don’t have anything to pin it up properly,’ she said with a frown, then smiled widely. ‘But I was right. The Myrae style suits you.’

  Lida gingerly touched the braid. ‘Thank you, Aly. My father won’t recognise me.’

  ‘Neither would anyone at the Illarum.’ Dylan handed Lida a cup of tea, grinning. ‘You look less like a dryad, and more like a person.’

  ‘I don’t look like a tree,’ Lida said indignantly, though it was a step up from a baint-fae. Dryads didn’t eat children.

  ‘Your hair does,’ Dylan said, tweaking the end of her plait. ‘It’s like a willow tree from far away, all rippling.’

  ‘How poetic of you, Carasson,’ Alys teased.

  ‘I wish I deserved the praise, Almasdotter, but it wasn’t me who said it. I just happen to agree.’

  Alys tried to bait him, but he wouldn’t reveal who had. Lida refused to engage, keeping her cup close to her face until they eventually lost interest and began to banter about something else.

  They all made an effort to wash before they left the clearing. Lida scrubbed at her cheeks and forehead and neck, turning her back to change her shirt. Alys and Ella didn’t bother, stripping unselfconsciously to the waist and becoming a good deal cleaner for it. Lida’s cheeks went hot, but it didn’t seem to shock either Dylan or Lorcan, who both promptly did the same thing. She caught a glimpse of a twisting, raised pink scar marring the skin on Lorcan’s side before she turned and walked to Sacred, her fingers working to pull knots from the mare’s mane until she was sure they were finished, her face burning the entire time.

  Alys laughed. ‘You Eilins with all of your rules,’ she said, tossing her head, taking on a mock-teacher voice and parroting back some of the things Lida had told her the day before. ‘You must worship Eianna this way. You must obey the King without question. You must handfast before you can marry. You must bathe only with women.’

  ‘What, you don’t have rules in Brinnica?’ Lida said crossly.

  Alys grinned. ‘Of course. But not about silly things like bathing.’<
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  ‘You bathe differently?’

  ‘Mmm. Freely. At any time. With anyone. Whenever we wish to be clean.’ She trilled a laugh. ‘You’re embarrassed again. You will need to get over that, before we get to the snow. There aren’t any private baths at l’Cour du Kali. Luckily, joli soer, it is still a long way.’

  Chapter Eleven: Instinct

  It was midday when the outskirts of Kingstown began to creep through the rolling hills. As soon as Lida saw the familiar sandstone, she urged Sacred forward, past Ella and Katrin, ignoring Katrin’s startled call. Sacred pushed herself into a canter, seeming as eager to be home as Lida was, and the mare needed no guidance as they rode past the outlying farms to the border of Cathan’s small set of fields. The wooden stable gate was open, waiting, and Lida didn’t bother dismounting until she was inside the fence.

  ‘Da!’ she cried, desperate to see him.

  ‘Lida!’

  Maya emerged from the stables, looking a little tired, but as lovely as ever. Lida slid from Sacred and threw herself into her sister’s arms as the others followed cautiously through the gate. Maya smelled like summer, and tears pricked Lida’s eyes as she buried her face in the red of her hair. Maya held her tightly.

  ‘What happened to your arm?’ she said, pulling back to eye Lida’s sling.

  Lida had omitted Jakob’s illae-pull and the resulting injuries from her letters, unwilling to let Cathan think badly of the Priom-Oidre. Her cheeks went hot and she was very glad that the bruising on her face had fully faded.

  ‘I fell off Sacred,’ she lied, keeping her voice as even as she could manage. ‘It was fractured but the healers fixed what they could. The ligaments are still healing.’