Good Night

by L. R. W. Lee

  We rode single file, in silence, under the forest’s towering trees—the same landscape we’d traversed since we’d left the Dura Plains. Sunlight filtered down, illuminating the shrubs, scrub, and ferns lining either side of the narrow animal trail we followed.

  My thoughts turned to another of the problems nagging my waking hours—how to stop Father. I’d pondered it over and over and always ended up back at the same place: we were powerless to stop Father, let alone rescue Kennan and Alfreda, from here in Wake. As crazy as it sounded, my gut told me we had to return to Dream. I’d been certain I couldn’t return, not without dying, but Kovis had reminded me that I’d thought I’d die coming to Wake. So I’d opened my mind to the possibility and, selfishly, it had grown on me to the point that I was excited at the possibility of seeing my family again. I just had to figure out how to get both Kovis and myself to Dream.

  Problem was, I’d looked at this challenge from every conceivable angle—upside down, right side up, inside out, outside in—to catch any whisper of a possibility. But so far, I’d drawn a blank, and I was growing frustrated. I was the problem, I knew it. While what I knew opened up certain possibilities, it boxed me in too. I couldn’t think outside what I knew. Damn. I wanted to tear my hair out. How pray tell did one discover what wasn’t obvious? I’d no idea, but we weren’t going anywhere until I figured that out.

  My thoughts again returned to the only thing I knew—what Velma had done to get me here to Wake. I’d gone over it a bazillion times already. I’d tried a few things, but we were still very much here. I gritted my teeth. I needed to calm down or I’d be sure to kill any new insights that dared show themselves. But reminding myself to calm down only added to my annoyance. I forced myself to take a deep breath and count to ten.

  Velma had envisioned me going to Kovis. She’d closed her eyes, then breathed over me, just as the Ancient One had done to bring the world into existence—he’d gathered sand, dust, and ashes and mixed them together in the caldron of the skies, then envisioned his creation as beautiful and fruitful and everything he loved. His breath over the great cauldron, a breath of wind, had made everything come to be.

  But questions plagued me. Did it work if Kovis and I both envisioned or did it have to be someone not going who envisioned? Could we breathe over each other? Did we have to breathe out at all since it seemed it was language—a narrative of what you sought—that held the power?

  I’d arrived in Wake unscathed, and it was proof enough that envisioning worked. I’d done something similar every night as I wove my charges’ dreams. I altered their very realities with language, so it shouldn’t have been foreign to me. So what was I missing?

  I focused, practicing what I would do during my next attempt. I pictured Kovis and me landing on the hard stone of my bedroom floor at the palace of sand maidens. We’d land between Wynnfrith’s and my overlarge beds, in front of the floor-to-ceiling window separating them. If she was there, we’d probably scare her half to death. I didn’t wish her ill, but the thought eased a little of the heaviness and I giggled. I could just see it. She’d shriek. Her dark eyes would bulge, and she’d hug herself. I’d played enough practical jokes on her to know.

  Kovis looked back with a furrowed brow.

  “I’m just practicing what I want to try tonight to get back to Dream.”

  “Sounds promising, then I’ll leave you to it.” He smiled and turned back around.

  I hadn’t considered it before, but would I get my wings back? My breath hitched and my back muscles flexed in anticipation. Wings. My wings. Beautiful with soft, black feathers. Like a bird.

  Would Kovis get wings? I threw a hand over my mouth, hardly able to contain my excitement.

  Kovis shifted back around and the cutest, quirkiest smirk lit up his face.

  I circled my pointer finger, my silent indication that he should return from whence he’d turned. He shook his head and turned back, ever so slowly. Clearly, he’d been listening in through our bond.

  Kovis with wings. He’d be so handsome. I let my thoughts run wild for several heartbeats, considering what I would do to the particularly sensitive, erotic innermost feathers at the base of his neck.

  While I hated to, I redirected my attention and continued working on a plan for us to try tonight.

  I was glad when we stopped for a quick lunch of roasted rabbit left over from the night before. My mind hurt, and the break did it good. But it wasn’t to last.

  “Ready to practice honing the nuances of your magic?” Kovis asked as we started off again.

  I'd practiced fighting and defending myself in preparation for The Ninety-Eight competition. The skills I’d learned were the broad-brush strokes of what I could do with my magic. But I hadn't yet learned the nuances of my powers, at least that’s what Kovis said. I didn’t disagree. The image of a flower pot slamming into Kennan’s head several moons before flew through my mind, and I winced.

  Kovis said fine-tuning allowed him to use his powers in more practical ways. For example, his nuanced magic had allowed him to bathe and dry me, unassisted… Mmm. Mmm. Mmm. I warmed. I could still feel his hands… enjoying certain of my parts… lingering… I shook my head and smiled.

  He’d also blown out candles without damaging anything else around them, warmed the water of the streams we bathed in, used an ice dagger he’d conjured to skin and clean the animals we ate, cooled the horses with his winds when they got overheated, and more. I had no idea what practical things I might do with my gifts, but I was excited to find out. With me being able to pull threads of other sorcerers’ powers and combine them with my Simulus affinity, who knew what I might accomplish. Between that and Somnus—my sleep-inducing power—it seemed my imagination was my only limitation… once I learned how to control it.

  Kovis turned around in his saddle. “I want you to use Air to pick up a leaf and draw it to yourself.”

  “One leaf? While we’re riding?”

  “Yes, a single leaf, while we’re riding.” He grinned.

  I shook my head. While it sounded like a simple task, I knew it would be anything but based on similar requests he’d made of me. This exercise would definitely refine my winds if I could master it.

  Kovis turned back around, and I looked to either side of the path. The horses weren’t walking that fast, but their pace still didn’t give me time to focus on a single leaf and grab it. This would definitely not be easy.

  I held a hand out, palm up, and focused on directing the air between my fingers like I had when I’d learned to fight, then selected a leaf we approached and concentrated on it. My breeze tossed a host of leaves into the air, and Fiona startled, stepping off the path, away from the blast.

  “Sorry, girl. It’s okay. That was just me.” I patted her neck, and she bobbed her head.

  Kovis turned in his saddle, a smirk on his face. “Try not to scare our mounts in the process. I don’t feel like walking.”

  I stuck out my tongue and was met with a laugh.

  Fiona rejoined the path and continued plodding behind Alshain. Kovis turned back around.

  I tried again. I spotted one leaf, held out my hand, and willed my winds to lift it into the air. Fiona whinnied, reprimanding me when a multitude of leaves again took flight.

  “Focus on reducing the amount of force you apply first,” Kovis called over his shoulder.

  I selected another leaf, held out my hand, and imagined myself blowing just hard enough to extinguish a candle. Not one thing moved.

  I added a bit more force the next time and made several leaves rustle, but that was it, nothing flew up. Only Fiona seemed to think my effort was acceptable, judging by her lack of response. Problem was, I could tell I’d never be able to snatch a single leaf this way. If several went airborne, they’d be a clump. I needed just a couple to rise to have any hope of grabbing only one. I felt a trickle of sweat meander down my back and wiped my brow. This would take a while.

  The forest darkened and Kovis called over his should
er, “Let’s find a place to make camp before the horses stumble.”

  I was more than happy to stop. My head throbbed.

  Not long after, he pointed at an area tucked within a copse of trees. Several large rocks lay scattered around. Fallen and decaying leaves covered the floor. I smiled. They’d cushion the hard ground tonight.

  I pulled Fiona to a stop beside Alshain and waited for Kovis to dismount and help me off. I’d just let go of the reins when both horses squealed, then reared, and I flew off Fiona. Thankfully, I collected my wits in time to slow my landing on a cushion of air that I conjured, a nuance of my magic that I’d worked on just four suns before. My shoulder was still sore from several failed attempts, but it wouldn’t take the hit this time.

  “Whoa, boy!” Kovis called, struggling to stay on. But spooked as they were, the horses bolted. Alshain darted under a low-hanging branch, and Kovis couldn’t duck in time. He thudded to the ground as his destrier galloped on. Fiona stopped not far off and snorted, her lips flapping as she bobbed her head.

  “What just happened?” I called.

  Kovis rose, dusted off his leathers, and walked toward the rock we’d stopped the horses by. I joined him and gasped when my eyes fell on a large, reddish-brown snake coiled and ready to strike. Its head was darker, and it had a yellow stripe passing through its eye. It had to have been three fingers thick.

  Kovis blocked my path, drawing a hand against my stomach, never taking his eyes off the snake. “It’s a yellow striper. One of the most venomous snakes in these parts. Looks like we disturbed it in its home. How’s snake sound for dinner?”

  I’d never eaten snake, but how bad could it be? “Works for me.”

  Kovis froze the thing before I could blink.

  Fiona ambled to the edge of the clearing and watched Kovis decapitate the snake with an ice dagger he conjured. Before he moved the body, he directed a spray of ice into the open space beneath the rock in case any other of its relations were at home. Fiona let out a whinny. I took it to mean she approved.

  It was either that or perhaps the “all clear” that convinced Alshain that the threat had been dealt with because he found his way back to us and stopped next to Fiona. I went over and petted both of them while Kovis blew the dry leaves from the clearing using his Air magic. Both horses whinnied when all the leaves were gone and they could see for themselves that no further enemies lurked.

  So much for using leaves to cushion the hard ground. I’d have to learn how to practice creating a soft bed for us to sleep on. But some of my frustration eased, and I silently applauded myself when I realized I’d had the presence of mind to use my magic—I’d remembered how to nuance it before I slammed into the ground. I probably would have catapulted myself into the woods before. I hadn’t figured out how to get us to Dream, but I had learned something.

  “Why is Alissandra so committed to that human charge of hers?” I barked the question into the wind and suppressed the urge to growl as I beat my wings. The notion that she could care for the frail mortal more than me had driven me crazy over the last sennights since she and that human had escaped my grasp at The Ninety-Eight. It made no sense.

  She’d been gone from Dream for just four moons—it had taken my forces that long to track her down—but her indoctrination into Wake and its ways seemed almost complete. Surprise didn’t begin to describe my shock. How had they done it? And so quickly? I’d never expected humans to possess such capabilities. They were more skilled than my best mare at that rate.

  But I would find her again, it was only a matter of time, and when I did, she’d return to Dream with me.

  I’d left my palace before sunrise and would soon be at the cave, but as I flew over a patch of forest, my mind continued swirling. Alissandra had always cared about her charges, but never to the point that she’d allow them to come between us. When I’d challenged her on it, demanding she show me she loved me more than this human, she hadn’t denied it. She’d only begged me to welcome her back into my good graces. She was delusional. She believed I’d do so when she had taken no steps to win my affections back. I growled. In fact, she’d gone so far as to say she trusted crazy Uncle Thao more than me. Enough was enough. Disrespectful. Ungrateful. Entitled. These and other descriptors filled my mind, and my anger rose. I’d never seen Alissandra act this way, and it was time to intervene. No daughter of mine would behave this way. I wouldn’t allow it.

  I shook my head as my thoughts turned to Alfreda. First Alissandra, and now her. I’d honestly believed I was past this stage of parenting, but clearly not. Alfreda had apparently witnessed Alissandra’s behavior and was now mimicking her, despite being older. She should have known better. What could she possibly hope to gain? I’d been right to isolate Alfreda from the rest of her sisters. The last thing I’d tolerate was any more of my daughters subscribing to these inane notions.

  I didn’t want to be forceful with Alfreda like I had with Alissandra, but she’d also pushed me to the end of my patience. She was being completely uncooperative when it came to her charge. I’d made the simple request that she control him to help me locate his brother, but for the last sennight, she’d pretended she couldn’t, despite explicit instructions that had worked with every one of the myriad of other humans my sand citizens controlled. I chafed at the idea that she, like her younger sister, was more loyal to another than to me, and a mortal at that. She—they all—needed to learn a lesson in why believing she could thwart me was shortsighted.

  What’s more, she would cooperate and tell me who had helped her sister reach Wake. This sun. Enough was enough. Mother was too soft on my daughters, coddling them. It was time to restore order and regain my children’s respect.

  I landed on the sandy beach as the rising sun painted the sky pink. Waves thundered against the sheer, white cliffs in regular rhythm as I strode toward the mouth of the cave. I’d found the narrow-mouthed cavern many annums before, up the coast a ways from the mushroom caves my children loved so much. The hallow had become my retreat when I sought solitude. Judging by the lack of tracks in or out before I’d told my troops about it, no other being knew of its existence.

  I kicked the sand from my sandals and pulled my wings close as I squeezed through the narrow entrance. I didn’t fit as easily as I once had, but reducing my girth would require work I wasn’t interested in pursuing, not when I had matters far more pressing to address.

  “My liege.” Zagan, one of my trained mares, genuflected as my eyes adjusted. Blue crystals lined the wet cave walls and cast a glow that offered only dim light, but it was sufficient to see that he’d taken on the form of a sentry. At least my troops still followed orders.

  “Rise.” I strode past him and three other guards before taking a hard right and ducking to clear the low archway of the central chamber.

  “My liege,” Morfran, my commander, said as he bowed low.

  Despite the only illumination being from several torches, I could see Alfreda in the light that reflected off the white stone of the low ceiling. She’d been lying on a bed of moss with her back toward me, but she turned over at hearing my voice. A scowl marred her beautiful face, her hair was in disarray, and dirt stained her dress in spots.

  I returned my focus to Morfran. “Rise and report.”

  “My liege, she hasn’t said a word despite our questioning.”

  “Has she slept any?”

  “No, my liege. You ordered us not to allow it.”

  “Very good. Please leave us.”

  Once he left, I stepped toward Alfreda. She sat up, but never took her eyes off me.

  “As I’ve told you, you can go home if you just tell me who helped your sister flee to Wake.”

  Alfreda pulled her blanket up further, as if it could shield her from my question, but remained silent.

  I sat next to her.

  She set her jaw and leaned away, clutching her blanket more tightly.

  Such disrespect. I was her father, but also her sovereign. Clearly she’d f
orgotten. Righteous indignation ignited in me, but I knew lashing out wouldn’t serve to accomplish my objective, so I took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. “I’m afraid silence isn’t going to work. You will have to tell me, daughter. I’ve given you more than enough chances. It’s time.”

  Alfreda didn’t move. Under repeated questioning by myself as well as my troops, she’d protected whoever had abetted Alissandra. I respected her loyalty and perseverance, but she’d taken it too far. If only she’d chosen to use her ideals to a more fitting end.

  She was nearly five hundred annums, but she was acting like a child, foolishly defending the weak. “Okay, if you won’t tell me, you leave me no choice. But remember these are your wishes I’m abiding by.”

  She tensed.

  I latched onto her mind—I would inflict pain but nothing lasting. As with all of my children, it wasn’t hard. “Tell me, Alfreda. Who helped Alissandra?”

  She shook her head.

  I extended my mental claws, and she went rigid.

  “Tell me, daughter.”

  Her knuckles turned white from gripping the blanket, but still she resisted me. Foolish child.

  I drew my claws lightly across her mind. She scrunched her face. Under different circumstances, I would have congratulated her. The pain would have been more than a little discomforting. She was tough and rightly so, she was my daughter.

  My mental talons made a second pass, a little harder, and she whimpered but still resisted.

  “I can do this all sun, Alfreda. You cannot resist me, so don’t try to be a hero. You’re only hurting yourself.”

  Alfreda kept her eyes closed, waiting for more pain.

  I shook my head, then ran my mental claws across the surface of her mind a third time, deeper. Foolishness.