Dreamthief

by Tamara Grantham

  ***

  I awoke to the rich smell of sautéed onions and seared meat. Uli squatted by a fire in a stone hearth, stirring a thick broth inside a cauldron. I rose onto my elbows and felt the soft weave of a grass mat beneath me. Woven vines formed a canopy over our heads. Tiny beams of sunlight drifted through the gaps, forming a dappled pattern on the rug-strewn floor.

  “You’re awake!” Uli said.

  I rubbed my forehead, feeling a fog in my brain that made my temples hurt. “Ouch.”

  She crumpled some dried herbs and tossed them into the soup. “You use too much magic. Dangerous.”

  “How would you know about magic?”

  She smiled, though this time it looked less feral. “Would you like my soup?”

  I wondered why she’d dodged my question, but the temptation of food pushed the thought from my mind. “Yes, I would love some.”

  She scooped two ladlefuls of soup into a bowl and handed the broth to me. I took it. The smooth wood turned warm in my hands. Taking a small sip, I felt the heat seep into my belly. It tasted better than it smelled, and I took another sip, realizing the fight had taken more from me than my magic.

  Uli raised an eyebrow as she sipped her own soup. “You like it?”

  I nodded. Taking another drink, I felt the fog in my head start to disappear. “Where are we?” I asked her, my voice hoarse.

  “This is my home.”

  “You live here by yourself?”

  She nodded.

  Of the little I’d learned of pixies, I knew they preferred to live in large family groups. I’d never heard of a pixie living alone. It wasn’t always a matter of keeping up strong family ties, it was also a matter of practicality. While the Ever Root was huge, it still had a finite amount of space.

  “Where is your family?”

  “My parents dwell in the innermost part of the tree. Away from me. As is their wish.” She took another sip, her eyes not meeting mine. I decided to change the subject.

  “Thank you for saving my life. I owe you.”

  “You freed me from that cage. You do not owe me.” She leaned forward. “You have special gifts with magic. I did not realize it when I first saw you. But now I know. You are the Deathbringer.”

  Deathbringer? I’d heard that name before. What did it mean?

  “I am to be your guide,” she told me, her voice solemn.

  I stared at her, confused. “My guide?”

  “To the tree,” she clarified.

  I almost dropped my bowl. “You will take me there?”

  She nodded.

  “But I thought it was forbidden.”

  “It is. But the king has seen your magic. He has granted me permission to be your guide to the tree.”

  I almost couldn’t believe it. “You’re sure about this?”

  “Yes. I went to the inner tree myself and spoke with him. I made him understand. He was angry at first, believing you brought those beasts into our lands. But then he decided your punishment. He will let the tree decide your fate. Many brave warriors have died seeking the tree’s magic. If the tree should take your life, or take your mind, then that shall be your punishment.”

  “I see.” I wasn’t sure how to react. Part of me felt grateful. Another part of me wished I’d never come here. I took another sip, wondering why Uli had suddenly decided to be my guide. “Uli, what does Deathbringer mean?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You do not know?”

  I shook my head.

  “It is a legend among our people, and others as well. The first Dragonlord prophesied of her coming nearly thirteen hundred years ago. How do you not know of this? It speaks of you!”

  I crossed my arms. “First, if it’s as important as you say, then I would have heard about it. The sky king is my father, after all. Second, you can’t be certain that it speaks of me.”

  She leaned forward. “‘Marked by death from the beginning—she will come in flame and ash, wielding the fire gifted to her of her fathers. She will cross worlds and mend the rift. She will bring death to the unbelievers, life to those marked by the ancient one. Her life will bring death, for she is the Deathbringer.’ Can you deny it? I’ve seen your fire. You are the dragon’s child. It is you.”

  “Impossible.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Fan’twar would have told me. He studies prophecy. He would have told me.” Uli was making it up. It was the only explanation.

  “Believe as you wish. But someday you will understand the truth.”

  I took another sip. Uli, after all, was mad. This must have been part of her delusion. Then again, this wasn’t the first time I’d been called Deathbringer. Whenever I saw Fan’twar next, I’d have a few questions to ask.

  She stood and placed her empty bowl on the hearth. “We leave when you are ready.”

  “I’m ready now.” I laid my bowl aside and attempted to stand. My knees felt weak and nearly gave out. I needed more rest. I couldn’t have slept more than a few hours, but now wasn’t the time.

  “You are certain?”

  “Yes. I need to find that tree.”

  She picked up a sack and began filling it with jars and glass containers, some with sand or liquid. She picked up one with what looked like snails with spiked ridges down their backs. Opening the jar, she popped one in her mouth, then placed the rest in her bag.

  My skin crawled as she crunched down on the snail.

  Or maybe she was just as crazy as ever.

  “How do you know about the Deathbringer?” I asked her as she tucked more containers in the bag.

  “It was a story told to me as a child.”

  “A story? Then it wasn’t prophecy?”

  “It was prophecy told so many times it became a story. A legend. Why you have never heard it is strange to me. Unless there is a reason for this. As is with all that happens. There is always a reason. A reason for everything. A purpose.” She crunched the snail some more, then made a snorting sound as if she’d gotten some of its slime lodged in her throat. Then, she chewed some more.

  I attempted not to vomit.

  “I am happy to be the one to tell you. You have a great purpose, Deathbringer.”

  “Please call me Olive.”

  “You do not wish to be called by your true name?”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Deathbringer sounds a little violent, don’t you think? I prefer Olive.”

  She shrugged and didn’t argue, though the unpleasant expression on her face told me she disagreed. She continued packing until she’d stuffed the bag. What she intended to do with all her loot I had no idea. “Are you ready?” she asked me after slinging the bag over her shoulder.

  I rubbed my sore ribs. “I suppose so.”

  “Good.” She grabbed me around the waist. My bruised ribs protested. She beat her wings twice, and then we soared out of her home through an open doorway.

  I’d barely gotten a moment to rest. Someday, after this was all done with, I planned to spend an entire week at home with nothing but my cat and a few good books.

  The sun rose over the pixie kingdom. Majestic spires glistened in the early morning light, bathing the world in gold and amber. The view stole my breath. Uli’s grip also stole my breath, but I tried to ignore it.

  During the daylight hours, the tree seemed to transform. Pixie children, wearing bright, mismatched colors, darted from holes. Their laughter drifted toward us. Banners of red and gold fluttered from many of the windows. In some places, I saw destruction, though the pixies fluttered around the toppled towers and crumbled roots, repairing them with ancient-looking saws and wooden mallets.

  If yesterday’s attack had bothered them, it didn’t show.

  Uli flew away from the familiar courtyard and into a part of the tree I didn’t recognize. Deeper into the tree, the familiar bauble lights were lit. Only a few streamers of sunlight penetrated this deep.