Dreamless

by Jenniffer Wardell

  Ariadne recognized the thoughtful expression in her sister’s eyes but thankfully misinterpreted its meaning. “See, you’re already thinking of ways to do it.” Leaning further across the table, she pressed a quick kiss against Illiana’s forehead before standing. “Oh, this will be brilliant.”

  Ariadne swept out of the room without the formality of her sister’s official agreement. Both of them knew it hadn’t really been needed.

  Chapter 6

  Both Sides of a Deal

  The next several days passed in relative peace, though that was due more to Elena’s distraction than any actual truce between her and Cam. The collapse she and Braeth had been expecting never came, and both were churning out pages of numbers they would then immediately swear at and throw away. They’d meet again, consult more books than it should be physically possible to fit in either of their rooms, and start back on the math. The swearing became more creative as the days passed, though Elena’s were more entertaining since Cam didn’t understand half of what Braeth was saying.

  Cam refrained from saying this out loud, though. He doubted either of them would take it well.

  They’d made another visit to Braeth’s lab that morning, and Cam was trailing Elena back to her rooms with half of the inconveniently enormous stack of books she’d borrowed. Elena was yards ahead with the other half of the stack, clearly ready to bowl over anyone not quick enough to get out of her way.Normally, Cam was huffing after her rather than risk taking a wrong turn into a closet. However, since this was the twentieth time they’d made this particular trip over the last three days, he pretty much had the route memorized.

  He’d just rounded the second corner at the top of the first staircase when Bishop walked by, looking more harried than the first time Cam had seen him. When their eyes met, the elf shifted his route to match Cam’s. After a few steps, he held out his hands. “Need some help with those?”

  Cam hesitated, knowing that Elena wouldn’t want Bishop to find out about the blackouts, then handed over half the stack he’d been carrying. The elf would get the chance to read the spines anyway, just by walking next to him, and at least this way Cam would have a lighter load. “Thanks. My manly honor stupidly insisted I take the bigger half, so right now I’m more than happy to annoy it by accepting help.”

  Bishop smiled as they kept walking. Though he generally looked as ageless as most elves, the expression made him look surprisingly young. “I’ve found that my manly honor rarely has my best interests at heart.” He glanced over at the books Cam was still carrying, then down at the top book in his own stack. Cam had made sure it was one of the older ones, with a complicated symbol on the cover instead of a title. “I notice that Braeth and Elena seem to be working quite intently on a special project of some kind,” Bishop said, as if deciding that the subtle route wasn’t getting him anywhere. “Should I be warning the staff to prepare for an explosion?”

  Cam had no doubt what the other man was asking, but he wasn’t ready to break Elena’s trust without her life being at risk. He’d come to respect her too much. “There’s a lot of math,” he said, face as blank as the time his parents asked who had broken his grandmother’s favorite vase. “I mostly listen to them argue and carry her books when she asks me to.”

  Bishop gave Cam a sideways look, the elf’s expression turning rueful. “And that’s the second polite ‘no’ you’ve given me. I should reclaim my dignity by respecting your decision and leaving you in peace.” The way the sentence was phrased, and the pause that followed it, it was obvious that Bishop wasn’t likely to follow his own advice.

  Cam watched the older man’s face, trying to figure out what was behind Bishop’s urge to know. He understood how frustrating it was to be left completely in the dark, but he wasn’t about to hand over all his cards just to make the elf’s job a little easier. “The queen making your life miserable until you find out?”he asked, thinking about his own parents.

  Surprisingly, the question seemed to throw Bishop. He opened his mouth, then closed it, and something painful flashed briefly across his face. “Illiana doesn’t know I ask.” The softness of his voice hinted at a thousand other things he wasn’t saying. “But I can see her worry, and I’m happy to do whatever is necessary for an opportunity to ease her mind.”

  Cam blew out a breath. Now he had to give the man something. “Elena’s on top of the problem,” he offered, pretty sure he wasn’t lying. “They’ve hit a roadblock, but Braeth still seems confident he knows what’s going on.” When Bishop seemed to relax a little, Cam decided to risk getting something in return.Elena was still determined to keep her mother in the dark about her blackouts, getting this awful closed-off look every time it was brought up.“Is everything okay with Elena and her mother?” When wariness lit the other man’s eyes, Cam hurried to clarify himself. “I’m not looking for dark family secrets or anything. I just want to know the basics so I don’t accidentally stick my foot in my mouth.”

  Bishop mulled the question over, clearly working out how much he was willing to say. “They’re too much alike,” he said.

  Cam snorted. “Oh, that’s helpful.”

  Bishop’s mouth quirked upward at the corners. “My people believe quite strongly in making sure that both sides of a deal are proportionate. Appearing generous means no one will ever take you seriously in politics or business again.”

  Cam shifted his books, elbow brushing against a tapestry hanging on the wall. “But since I’m not an elf, you should be able to make an exception.”

  Bishop shook his head, looking a little too serious. “Exceptions are the keys that end up altering the course of lives. I have no interest in changing my current life.”

  Cam saw the second-to-last turn coming up ahead, which meant he only had two more hallways and another turn before they’d be at Elena’s rooms. Knowing that wouldn’t be nearly enough time to get anything useful out of the man, he stopped them both before they made the turn. “You have to understand where I’m coming from, here. If I tell you, you’ll tell the queen, Elena will find out, and she’ll—” He tried to remember what her most recent threat had been, then gave up and shook his head. “I think it involved something painful happening to all my appendages.” He raised an eyebrow at Bishop. “Are your appendages at risk if you don’t tell the queen?”

  Bishop gave Cam a long, analytical look, as if trying to decide whether or not the younger man was serious. Then he shook his head. “There’s not much more I can tell you. Think of every problem you’ve had with Elena, then imagine a conversation between two people exactly like that.”

  Cam could, all too easily. “Okay, that does make sense. Elena’s in therapy, though. Can’t the mirror guy make them talk to each other?”

  “He tried,” Bishop said, deftly edging past a suit of armor on display. “I could never get the complete story out of Dr. Flyte, but I do know that he developed a rather disconcerting nervous tic for several months after the attempted group session.”

  “Okay, so scratch talking it out.” Cam glanced in the direction of Elena’s room, listening for the sound of her stalking back for the rest of her books. He didn’t hear anything, and he was willing to bet she was too obsessed with the research to be lurking around the corner listening to him. “Is there some sort of truth serum spell we could hit them both with?”

  “That they wouldn’t be able to guard against? No.” Bishop sounded amused, which Cam decided to take as a good sign in the long run. If nothing else, it was better than pity. “Though I’m encouraged that you care enough to be asking me these questions.”

  That stopped Cam short, nearly making the top few books slide off the stack. He caught them before they fell, but it didn’t help him feel less flustered. “Listen, this isn’t some kind of secret crush we’re talking about. I just need whatever I can to diffuse the mine field that is Elena Randall.”

  Now Bishop didn’t show a trace of
emotion. It was a trick all elves had, a sort of basic armor for all the little social games they played, and it gave some people the impression that the entire race was cold and unfeeling. “Actually, most people find her remarkably easy to get along with.”

  Cam glared at the other man. “I was being serious.”

  “So was I. Elena’s better at meaningless polite conversation than anyone I’ve ever met, except for her mother.” Still, Bishop’s smile returned as he resumed walking towards Elena’s room. Cam followed, pleased to note that he’d been right about Elena not lurking anywhere. “Though Elena’s never been tested by an eight-hour meeting, so it’s entirely possible her skills might not hold up as well under pressure.”

  “Why doesn’t she go to meetings?” Cam lowered his voice, walking more slowly in the hopes that it would get him a few extra minutes. “Everyone else seems in the castle seems to get stuck in them.”

  Bishop shook his head. “She has no official title, so there’s no need for her to have any involvement in matters of state.”

  “So she’s not really the princess?”

  “Being a princess is a condition of birth. It doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with your position in the ruling government.” Bishop was solemn. “Elena and her mother are reluctant to have her declared heir, since the curse will take effect long before she would ever take the throne. It would also leave her open to unscrupulous young men more interested in utilizing the curse to further their own ends.”

  “Do I dare ask who will take over?”

  Bishop hesitated. “For the record, I am the official heir to the throne, though I tell you this mostly so that you won’t ask Elena. The king has no extended family left to challenge the decision, and in extreme circumstances the law allows a member of the royal family to designate in advance who will take the throne.” He shifted the stack of books in his hand. “I believe a king several generations ago had a deranged elder son he wanted to make absolutely certain never had power.”

  Cam wondered what it would be like to be able to think with that kind of cool practicality about something so terrible. Not fun, he imagined. “You don’t seem too happy about maybe being king one day.”

  An old grief flashed across Bishop’s face. “I would give everything I own to never have to take the throne.” By the time Bishop dropped his books into Cameron’s hands, however, his expression was clear. “And now, I will do you a further service by not following you into Elena’s room. I suspect she would be less than pleased to see me carrying these books, and would correspondingly subject you to a suitably intimidating interrogation the moment I left the room.”

  Cam sighed. “True.” As the elf turned to go, the younger man shifted the books enough to reach out and catch Bishop’s arm. “Hey, thanks.” He felt the urge to say more rise up inside him, then decided it wouldn’t hurt to say it out loud. “If I get to the point where I don’t think she and Braeth can handle this on their own, I promise I’ll tell you, okay?”

  Bishop closed his eyes then opened them again. “Thank you,” he said quietly, then disappeared down the hallway.

  Once he was gone, Cam took a deep breath and made his way to Elena’s rooms. She was right where he expected her to be, bent over a book with a glower on her face, and as he pushed her door open he could hear her muttering to herself. “Ridiculous nonsense.I know that— you said the same thing twenty pages ago. Okay, now he’s just babbling.”

  Cam cleared his throat—he didn’t want to see firsthand how she reacted to being startled—and set the books on the desk next to her. “You do know there’s nothing forcing you to keep reading, right?”

  Elena rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Yes, but if I don’t, the answer will be on page 643 in the margins of a diagram that looks as though it was drawn by someone who was clearly inebriated.”

  He looked down at her, almost sympathetic. “And if it’s not there?”

  “It will have been if I don’t keep reading. The universe hates me like that.” She opened her eyes, meeting his, briefly matching his sudden smirk with her own. “It took you awhile to find your way back here. Did you get lost again?” Then the humor faded and two small lines formed between her eyes. “I shouldn’t have left you behind. I forget what the castle is like for people who didn’t grow up in it.”

  The sudden concession made him hesitate, trying to figure out whether being honest would kick them both into another fight. Still, it seemed wrong to insist that she not lie and not give her the same in return. “Bishop offered to help me carry the books. I took him up on it.”

  Elena tensed. “He asked about them, didn’t he?”

  Cam nodded, relieved that she hadn’t accused him of spilling the beans. They’d gotten that far, at least. “I told him that you and Braeth were working out a problem without telling him anything about it.” When she winced, he put a hand on her shoulder. “I had to tell him something, Elena. He knew there was a problem even before I got here, and he does a really good worried face.” Cam paused. “Bishop seems to care a lot about both of you.”

  There was the briefest hesitation from Elena, just like there always was when she was about to tell him something at all personal. “I wish he didn’t try so hard with me. It would be easier.” She sounded tired, as if just thinking about it exhausted her, and Cam squeezed her shoulder in comfort without being at all aware that he’d done it. “But I’m glad he’s there for my mother. She needs him so much, and no matter how much she tries to hide it it’s obvious how happy he makes her. I’d suffer through a thousand of his worried looks rather than part the two of them.”

  Cam thought back to his conversation with Bishop. “Does he know that?” he asked, picturing the expression that had been on the elf’s face when he talked about the queen.

  Elena looked at him like he was an idiot. “Of course he—” Then she stopped, studying whatever her brain was presenting for inspection. Then she closed her eyes, just like Bishop had done earlier. “Fantastic,” she said quietly, clearly not thrilled with whatever she’d just decided.

  Realizing he’d stirred up more than he’d meant to, Cam picked up one of the books and sat down on Elena’s bed to flip through it. He knew he didn’t understand enough to help look, but annoying her would distract her from whatever she was thinking. “So, I’m thinking you and Braeth have been sitting on a secret cure for insomnia and haven’t told anyone.”

  Rather than glare at him, she made a small sound that could have been a weak chuckle. “Sadly, no. Even the dullest spell books are so frustrating and convoluted that you end up furious at the people who wrote them. It actually makes it harder to go to sleep.”

  Cam smiled at her. “I felt exactly the same way about school books. Needless to say, I didn’t end up at the top of my class.” He set the book back down on her desk. “I take it you’ll be flying tonight?”

  “I wish I could,” Elena said. She’d been incredibly prickly the second night he’d followed her out, but he’d tried hard to be on his best behavior. By the third night, she’d accepted his presence as one more step in the process. “But if I let myself get distracted, I won’t have the energy to push my way through the rest of—”

  The words cut off abruptly as her head dropped forward, then her entire body started to slowly fall sideways. Cam swore and dove for her, but just as he caught her he felt her body tense up with renewed awareness. He let her go as she pulled herself back up into a sitting position. “How long was I out that time?” Elena asked, expression grim as she pushed her chair back to get a little more breathing room.

  “Fifteen seconds.” More watchful now, Cam moved back to his position on the bed. “Maybe less.”

  Elena pressed a hand to her forehead. “That’s less time than my first blackout, which makes no sense. No matter what the pattern is, the time should be inc—”

  The minute the words broke off Cam was moving again, but E
lena dropped faster since she no longer had the desk to partially hold her up. He caught her at an odd angle, holding her there for a few seconds to see if she would wake up as quickly as last time. When she didn’t, he picked her up and laid her down on the bed. He checked her pulse, fighting off the same brief panic he felt last time she collapsed then took her chair and sat down beside the bed.

  As the seconds turned into minutes, the panic snuck back in. She was still breathing, her chest rising and falling slowly enough that you could miss it if you looked away, but that didn’t mean the curse hadn’t hit. Cam brushed a hair away from Elena’s face, trying to figure out when he would have to tell her mother. A half hour? Longer? He kept his eye on the clock, trying not to imagine how the queen or his parents would react if Elena didn’t wake up again.

  So he waited. Some of it involved sitting, some of it involved pacing, and there was one brief stretch when he seriously considered going to get Braith. Eighteen painfully slow minutes later, Elena sucked in a sharp breath and opened her eyes. Then she blinked, swore softly, and pushed herself up into a sitting position. “I presume that one was longer.”

  Her eyes widened when Cam told her how long it had been. He tried to smile. “You should really think about sitting in a chair more often, though. It was a lot easier to make sure your head didn’t hit the ground.”

  “That explains the headache I had when I woke up in the corridor.”

  He gave an exaggerated shrug, grateful she was going along with the joke. “Hey, they didn’t cover princess catching in my guard training.”

  Elena twisted her mouth.“Your father could do it with a broken leg,” Elena said, a faint hint of humor lighting her eyes.

  Cam just grinned. “You never met my great aunt. He’s had a lot more practice than I have.”

  She made the appropriate disbelieving noise, but frustration overwhelmed her. “This makes no sense. When you add the timing of these blackouts to the earlier ones, it’s nearly impossible to get any kind of exponential pattern out of them.” She shifted sideways on the bed, reaching for the nearest book and rapidly flipping through the pages. “The timing seems like absolute nonsense, which shouldn’t be possible in a curse. They have to work according to a pattern. It’s how they’re built.”