Seven Dreams

by English, Charlotte E.

  Serena frowned. ‘Of course. That’s how employment works.’

  The girl muttered something incomprehensible, then shrugged. ‘Okay, I accept.’

  ‘That’s great!’ enthused Serena.

  ‘Why?’ said Teyo softly.

  The girl shrugged. ‘Sounds too good to be true, but whatever? I got few choices.’

  Teyo said nothing, but let the silence stretch.

  ‘I was part of a gang,’ muttered the girl. ‘Back in Irbel. We weren’t much, but we did all right. Then I Changed, for the first time. I couldn’t help it! I didn’t even know I could. They were afraid, and they kicked me out.’ Her voice held bitterness and weariness, and for the first time Serena realised that she might be very young indeed. ‘I tried to manage on my own, but they spread the word around and nobody would help me. So I’ve been on the road ever since.’

  Serena sighed inwardly. The arrival of draykoni shapeshifters hadn’t pleased everyone. Some welcomed them with interest, fascination and awe, and openly cultivated their powers. Others viewed them with extreme distrust and, in some cases, open fear. A small but lethal band of disgruntled draykoni had launched a war against the realm of Glinnery two years ago, and though they had been defeated, the damage they had wrought had been considerable. Not everyone forgave that, or forgot.

  Serena didn’t think this girl was dangerous, however; she had quickly capitulated to Teyo’s superior strength, even in draykon form.

  ‘To us, your draykoni heritage is an asset,’ she said with a smile. ‘As you might guess from Teyo, here.’

  ‘You’re Teyo?’ the girl said over her shoulder, and the big man murmured assent. ‘Okay. So it’s nice to meet another draykon, and some people who aren’t going to try to kill me for it, but do you think you could let go of my hands? You’re hurting.’

  Teyo stepped back at once. Serena waited, momentarily afraid that the girl might take flight. She did not, however. She stood there, rubbing her wrists in silent thought for several moments. Then she dragged off the dark hood that covered her hair, and pulled away the mask. Serena studied her face with interest. She was very young; perhaps only seventeen, or even less. But she was tall, and fairly well-grown, which accounted for her ability to pass as a man — though where she had learned to mimic the movements, speech and mannerisms of a young male, Serena would be intrigued to discover. She had spoken of Irbel, but her colouring suggested strong Nimdren heritage: she bore paler skin than was common in the Daylands realms, and her grimy, wind-tossed hair looked very pale in the darkness.

  ‘I’m getting in the carriage now,’ the girl announced. ‘It’s cold out here.’

  Serena grinned and stepped back, holding the door for her new colleague. ‘Welcome to our little team,’ she said. ‘May we know your name?’

  The girl hopped nimbly inside and grabbed a seat in the corner, as far away from the others as possible. ‘Anders,’ she said.

  Serena frowned. ‘That’s your name when you’re being a man, isn’t it? What about your real name?’

  There was silence for a while, and Serena thought she wouldn’t answer at all. At last, though, she said in a whisper, ‘Iyamar.’

  It had probably been a long time since she had used the name, Serena guessed. Left alone and fending for herself at such a young age, she had probably found it safest to maintain her masculine masquerade at all times.

  Teyo and Serena piled back into the carriage, and it proceeded on its way once more. Introductions were made all around. Egg had grown a little more gracious since hearing Iyamar’s story, though she obviously still harboured some distrust. Serena expected indifference from Fabian, but to her relief he was coolly friendly to his new colleague.

  ‘What if she’s Yllandu?’ Egg whispered to Serena, while Teyo engaged Iyamar in conversation. ‘She could be a plant.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Serena whispered back.

  ‘But what if she is?’

  ‘Then Oliver will soon find out.’

  The Torwyne Agency owned numerous properties across Irbel which were available for the use of their employees; Serena’s team rarely had to travel far to reach one. At present they were based just over the Nimdren-Irbellian border in a town called Vallune, and thither they retreated with all possible speed. It was always a disconcerting experience, crossing from Nimdre into Irbel at night. Irbel was a Dayland realm, which meant that a permanent cloak of daylight was maintained during the night-time hours. It never grew dark in Serena’s home realm, only dimmer. Nimdre, however, had no such magical constructs, choosing to maintain a traditional day-night cycle. Serena and her team passed from deep darkness into the soft, golden glow of Irbel’s Day Cloak in an instant, and all were obliged to shut and shade their eyes for a few moments until they grew used to the sudden influx of light. Serena welcomed it, once her eyes had adjusted; she had grown up in permanent sunglow, and sometimes found it hard to cope with the velvet darkness of Nimdren night.

  The Daycloak had been created many generations ago. Its purpose was to provide an ideal habitat for specific, and numerous, plants and animals which originated from the Upper Realms (or, as the draykoni were now calling it, Iskyr). This place existed outside the Seven Realms, on another plane entirely — though it was adjacent to, and accessible from, any place within the Seven by way of gates which sometimes opened up. There were multiple suns up there, and as such, darkness never fell; its native flora and fauna were dependent upon the strong sunlight, and quickly withered away without it.

  The realm could be dangerous, and it had long ago been decided that it was far more expedient to bring the vital, medicinal plants and most useful (or desirable) animals down to the Seven, rather than sending regular expeditions up to gather them. And so, the Day Cloak had come into being, along with the Night Cloak, in other parts of the world, for there was a mirror realm known as the Lowers in which there was no sun at all.

  The draykoni had now settled in both places, and were, by all accounts, rapidly taming those realms. People spoke of imminent trade agreements between the different worlds, which may someday render the Day and Night Cloaks unnecessary. For the time being, however, they remained in place, and Irbel knew nothing of darkness.

  Most of Serena’s team were Daylanders like herself, and used to the eternal light. Teyo was the only exception, hailing originally from Nimdre. It had taken him years to get used to sleeping in full light, and he still wore a dark sleep mask sometimes.

  Vallune was a pretty, rural place, and Serena had been pleased to choose it as their headquarters for the present mission. It was within reasonably easy reach of Iving, Irbel’s capital city where Oliver Tullen was based, and also within reach of Dame Halavere’s country estate. They were staying in a small, unassuming little house on the edge of town. The house was narrow, but three storeys high, with a timber frame and white-washed walls. The streets around it were charmingly cobbled, and behind it there was nothing but serene fields. It possessed an air of quiet, comfort and peace which Serena found soothing to return to.

  Iyamar stared at the house for some moments before she went inside, her expression unreadable. Serena wondered how long it had been since she had slept in a house, and in a proper bed. It gave her some pleasure to assign the girl her own room, a neatly-kept chamber with fresh bedding and a basin of clear water for washing.

  The rest of the team retired to their assigned chambers with obvious relief. It was past three in the morning, the job had been a long one, and Serena’s detour regarding Iyamar had delayed them still further. She could not regret it, in spite of the delay. She understood Egg’s concerns, but her gut feeling told her that Iyamar was a valuable find. She only hoped that Oliver would agree.

  The last thing she saw before she fell into her own bed was Teyo, wandering down the hallway with his sleep mask in one hand and a bundle of knitting in the other. He gave her a tiny, lopsided smile on his way past, in which she read a mixture of amusement and resignation. Did that mean he approved of Iya
mar, or not? Teyo was so hard to read.

  Serena shut her door on him, and went to bed.

  Serena dragged herself out of bed early the next morning, though she would have delighted in a longer rest. Her team had been extremely busy of late; she had been playing three different roles regularly, and there had been little opportunity to rest. Perhaps, she thought with faint hope, the matter of Halavere Morann would soon be resolved and she could apply for a bit of leave.

  Everyone else was sluggish as well, apparently, for she wandered downstairs to find a deserted ground floor. They were still sleeping, most likely, except for Teyo. His history with the Unspeakables was a source of eternal regret to him, but it did furnish them with one advantage: he had retained one or two contacts within the organisation, and once in a while they were willing to take the risk of sharing information with him. The current job could scarcely be completed without more details, and Teyo would have left before dawn in an attempt to secure it. She quickly crossed her fingers, wishing him success.

  She took a cup of tea and a bread roll through to her favourite window seat, and discovered Iyamar huddled behind the curtain. The girl was fast asleep, and in repose she looked so very young that Serena began, for the first time, to doubt her judgement in hiring her. Was it work she needed, or something else? Care, perhaps? A foster family?

  No, perhaps not. Even in sleep, there was a mulish set to Iyamar’s pointed chin. She wanted work, and she wouldn’t readily accept anything else, Serena guessed. Certainly nothing that would threaten her independence.

  Still, she was young. She proved to be almost as pale-skinned as a Darklander, which was rare in Irbel; perhaps she had mixed heritage. Her hair was very pale, too; not the pure, Lokant-white one sometimes saw, but pale blonde. Her features were curiously neutral, neither pretty nor plain. A blessing, Serena knew, if one wished to pass for a man. Serena’s own features were too decidedly feminine to permit such a masquerade easily.

  She sat quietly, drinking tea and savouring her breakfast, until she heard Teyo’s soft footsteps behind her. She turned with a smile, and a finger to her lips. His brows rose at the caution, but when he saw Iyamar curled up in the corner of the window, he nodded and gestured Serena into the kitchen.

  ‘Did you learn anything?’ Serena asked, keeping her voice down.

  ‘Bits and pieces,’ Teyo rumbled in reply. ‘Most of it useless, except maybe for one thing: there’s a rumour that Halavere’s after some kind of key.’

  ‘Oh? A key to what?’

  Teyo shrugged. ‘Nobody knows. She used Pietre Grine — that’s the “stablehand” we saw last night — to track it down, and apparently he succeeded.’

  Serena nodded slowly. ‘Baron Anserval’s got this key, then, whatever it is. We’d better try to warn him.’ She heaved a great sigh as she said it: there was little chance that the Baron would see it as anything but unwelcome interference, so it would be an unpleasant task. She felt an obligation to try, not least because it might make her job easier later. Whatever this key was, Halavere couldn’t be permitted to walk off with it.

  ‘I wanted to see Oliver today, but that won’t work,’ she sighed. ‘We need to get a watch on Anserval’s house immediately. She won’t delay long before she goes after this key.’

  Teyo nodded, saying nothing. He looked as tired as she felt, Serena thought, surveying him with some concern. He was taller than she, a large man with broad shoulders and a big, brawny build that would soon turn to fat, if he weren’t so active. Those shoulders were a little slumped this morning, however. His shaggy brown hair was more disordered even than usual, and the shadows beneath his eyes were deep and dark. At better times, Teyo bore a youthful vigour which belied his forty-something years, but today he looked every one of them.

  All her team needed a break, she knew, but there was little chance of that for a while. She wanted to speak of it, but Teyo didn’t welcome that kind of solicitude, so she merely said: ‘Have you eaten? There’s tea as well.’

  Teyo accepted these offers with quiet gratitude, and Serena silenced one or two of her worries by ensuring that he was, at least, decently fed. Jisp clambered onto the table top as well and partook of a sumptuous meal of fruit, enjoying an occasional caress from Teyo as she did so. Serena smiled to see it, knowing that the two of them were probably conversing about something or other within their own minds. It made her a little bit envious, sometimes, for she had no special or magical abilities of her own. It reassured her to know that Teyo had that kind of companionship. He was a quiet man and somewhat withdrawn; always friendly and obliging, but close to no one.

  She drank a second cup of tea, sitting at the table in silence with Teyo as she turned over the upcoming task in her mind. She could take on the duty of warning the Baron herself, though she would not be able to do so in the role of Lady Fenella, and it would be advantageous for her to appear in that character. Egg and Teyo would have to take that duty, then, and afterwards infiltrate the house in the guise of servants, or something else. She would leave that to them.

  Fabian would accompany Serena herself, which left Iyamar unaccounted for. It was far too soon to take her out on a job, but what else could be done with her? Serena dared not leave her behind, not least because she was afraid that the girl would not be there when they returned. Her doubts of last night had not been wholly assuaged by the explanations and stories she’d been given. Besides, Iyamar needed help. Serena couldn’t guess at the whole of her story, but she sensed that there was more, and her newest recruit obviously was not in the best shape.

  Could she entrust her to Teyo? As a fellow shapeshifter, he seemed to be the obvious choice. But he had frightened Iyamar in his draykon shape — indeed, that had been the whole point — and Serena had noticed that the girl had kept as much distance as possible between herself and Teyo last night.

  Egg was a brilliant woman, extremely talented at her job and wholly reliable, but patience was not her strongest point. Nor was Fabian likely to be the most understanding of companions for Iyamar; he could be hasty, even rash, sometimes, and though he was not insensitive, he would forget that Iyamar might need support.

  That left Serena herself. She sighed inwardly, puzzling over the question of how to keep Iyamar with her without breaking character as Lady Fenella. She could be dressed up as a footman, probably, for she would easily pass as a boy. That would have to do. Wendle could keep an eye on her while Serena was in the house with the Baron.

  Teyo finished his repast and sat back in his chair. Serena realised he was watching her with one of his impassive expressions, totally unreadable. She lifted a brow at him.

  ‘Figured everything out?’ he enquired.

  Serena nodded, and sipped her tea. ‘I think so.’

  ‘Of course you have,’ he said, with a hint of a smile. Then, with a tired sigh, he levered himself up from the table. ‘I’ll be ready to leave in twenty minutes,’ he said. ‘I’ll get the others up.’

  Serena smiled her thanks and left the table. She poured the remains of her tea away with some regret, wishing she could linger over it, but it couldn’t be helped. Time to rally the team and go.

  Chapter Four

  Baron Anserval was sitting at his ease in a particularly fine wing-back chair, his attention wholly occupied by the delicate antique book he was cradling upon a pillow on his lap. He was surrounded by antiques, in fact; the chair in which he reclined was a velvet-upholstered fancy, more than two hundred years old and displaying an excessively fine claret colour. A matching chair and divan stood nearby, standing at elegant angles to a pleasingly elderly carpet of lively hues. The walls of his study were lined with expensive bookcases, each shelf well-filled with agreeably faded and crumbling tomes, and his cabinets bristled with rare and fine ornaments. It gave him the greatest satisfaction to sit and admire his collection, and also furnished him with a pleasing sense of superiority towards those who had not the fortune to be so well-provided with antiquities as himself.

  He
gently turned the pages of the book upon his lap, his newest acquisition. The brittle parchment was protected from his hands by way of the thin, white cotton gloves he conscientiously wore; after all, if one was to accept the stewardship of such a broad collection, one must likewise accept the responsibility of caring for them suitably. The Baron took all such obligations very seriously indeed. He was also ready, at a moment’s notice, to regale any interested parties with a detailed history of every item in his study; indeed, in his entire collection. And everyone, he had long since concluded, felt an interest in antiquities, for his lectures had always been greeted with very flattering attention. It behoved the privileged to share their rarefied knowledge with the improperly educated, and the Baron took this obligation very seriously as well.

  Not, of course, that he had any intention of reading this book, or any other that presently stood upon his bookshelves. Though he naturally possessed the keenest interest in the refined and scholarly pursuit of reading, not for the world would he subject his precious and fragile tomes to the punishing interference of page-turning. At present, he was cheerfully engaged in viewing some one or two of the illustrations that graced the pages of his newest prize, before he returned it to its proper station upon the shelf, behind its protective glass covering.

  He had not yet completed this task when his butler arrived at the door to his study, which was standing ajar, and knocked delicately upon it. He looked up with a faint frown, surveying his employee over the top of the professorial glasses he had elected to wear.

  ‘A lady and a gentleman to see you, my lord,’ said that worthy person.

  ‘But what are their names, Barrage?’ said the Baron testily. ‘I trust I am acquainted with these people?’

  The butler gave a slight cough. ‘I believe not, my lord. They are emissaries from the Bureau, so I understand.’

  The Baron’s frown grew deeper. ‘Oh! The Bureau. You misled me when you termed them a lady and a gentleman. One does not expect agents of the Bureau to bear any proper eminence at all. What is their business?’