Light followed blackness. Sensations whirled through his perception. Tensed for impact, he tightened into a ball.
He never felt the collision. He only became aware of a distant roar that ebbed and surged. Bannor uncurled and looked around. The tautness went out of his muscles. This didn’t look like the abyss. Orienting, he rose and glanced around. He stood at brink of a cliff overlooking an ebony ocean. Breakers of liquid night crashed on a shore that sparkled like crushed gems. As the waves thundered, he could see stars shining through from their undersides.
Bannor examined himself. He looked solid, but his body felt weightless and all but intangible. This wasn’t his astral body. What happened?
He recognized the ocean from the images coming from Wren. Could I be in her dream?
Swaths of clouds rolled and tumbled through the sky as though blown at great speed. Inland, trees bordered a wide meadow where blackhorn and small animals nibbled at the grass.
Did all savants dream so vividly or only Wren? In the distance, he saw two figures moving across the clearing. One wore white, the other green. When he moved nearer he determined the one in white must be Wren from her size and blonde hair. The other was a man in dyed leather armor. He walked with his arm around her.
His approach startled them. Wren wore a revealing silk gown. The man was dressed like a guilder, weapons and tools slung for quiet movement.
“Wren,” his voice seemed to echo. “I need to talk to you.”
Her eyes widened. “Bannor? What are you doing in my dream?”
The revelation stunned him. “You know you’re dreaming?”
She put hands on hips. “You weren’t playing around with the power again were you?”
Wren seemed completely lucid.
“No,” Bannor answered. “I tried to wake you up with mindspeak. I sort of got sucked in here.”
The man spoke, his voice sounded low and fluid. “Wren, this doesn’t appear to be a good time for our council. I sense danger. That is why he seeks you.”
She sighed. “I get to see you so rarely, Grahm.”
Grahm nodded. “I know. We are getting closer—my benefactors are almost satisfied. Then we can be together again for real.”
Bannor saw the disappointment in her eyes. Wren—in love with a dream? That didn’t seem right. She seemed so grounded in reality.
“Will I see you again soon?” she asked.
“Perhaps within the next few nights. In the realms I tread now, time is a tricky thing.”
She put her arms around Grahm and kissed him.
The man smiled. “You know I’ll be back for more of those.”
“That’s what I’m hoping.”
Grahm faded out.
“Life around you keeps getting stranger.” Bannor looked up to the sky, then to the trees and out to the rolling black ocean. He shook his head. The urgency in the clearing came back to him in a rush. The words came out all at once. “Wren, something’s wrong in the clearing. The bargemen didn’t set a guard and I feel something watching us in the reeds.”
Wren blinked. “Whoa, Bannor, this is a dream, remember. We have time, go slow.”
“What’s dreaming got to do with it? While you’re sleeping something can sneak out of those reeds and get both of us!”
“Time is relative here. Thoughts move much faster than words. By the time I’ve finished explaining this concept only an eye blink has passed—understand? Now, from the beginning—slow.”
Bannor frowned. “I guess.” He felt trapped. His body might as well be a million leagues away. He didn’t have a clue how to get back to it.
Slow. Bannor held his breath, trying to push down the sense of being confined. Wren would know how to get him loose—he hoped.
“All right, I woke up and I could sense something wrong. The clearing looks wrong, smells wrong. Have you ever looked at a thing and known that it wasn’t right without being able to identify how?”
Wren’s blue eyes appeared larger than they normally did. She looked right through him it seemed. She pulled a strand of hair and twisted it around her finger. “Of course, Bannor. That’s the instinct that keeps you alive.”
He nodded.
She gritted her teeth. “I think Dac and Laramis led the enemy to us without meaning to.”
“What? Then why—”
Wren held up her hand. “They need numbers, a hundred demons didn’t stop the four of us. Now, we’ve got a dwarven war master, and one of Ukko’s highest ranking paladins. They won’t charge in without an overwhelming force. They want you and me alive, not dead. They’ll try to separate us and hem us in individually.”
“So what do we do?”
“We pretend they’re not there.”
“What?”
“Trust me. I know about the minions of Hecate. You won’t find them unless they want to be found. Then it’s too late.”
Even in this dream, Bannor could feel the heat rise in his face. “We can’t just let them surround us!”
Wren took hold of his arm. Her hand felt as soft as a butterfly wing. “I said we ‘pretend’. We act as if we don’t know they’re there. I have no intention of getting caught.”
Bannor looked in her eyes. She couldn’t lie in a dream. Could she? Lately, he’d gotten the sense that Wren always acted in control, even when she was actually improvising as she went.
She appeared sincere and certain.
“Okay.”
“Good man,” she patted him on the shoulder. “All right, I’m going to go astral and see if I can spy these visitors of yours. You stay put, all right?”
He nodded.
She looked at him expectantly. “Well?”
Bannor looked around. “How do I get out of here?”
Wren raised an eyebrow. “The same way you came in of course.”
“How’s that?”
Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean, ‘how’s that?’ ”
“I thought you did it.”
“Me? I was dreaming, Bannor, sleeping—” Wren stopped herself. “You haven’t been making any funny wishes have you?”
“Not that I remember.”
“You sure?”
“I don’t know—maybe.”
She frowned. “Maybe? I thought we discussed being careful.”
He felt the heat in his cheeks. “I have been!”
“So—what did you wish for?”
“I don’t remember exactly. It was back at Dewfield, I wanted to talk to Sarai, I wished I could talk to her. I felt dizzy for a moment, but it went away. Nothing else happened—at least not that I’m aware of.” He pushed down an urge to panic. It seemed as if the walls of this dream world were closing in on him.
“Ishtar,” Wren closed her eyes and drew in a long breath. “There’s no telling what that might have done. You really must be careful. It’s natural to desire things, but you have to guard that impulse. Even a stupid little thought like ‘I wish he would shut up’ could be disastrous.”
Bannor nodded. He clenched and unclenched his hands trying to keep himself calm. Reining in his emotions here was more difficult than in the real world. Every little feeling wanted to take control.
Wren put a hand on his cheek. It felt warm and smooth. “I’m sorry, Bannor. I always seem to be lecturing you. I know you think my getting you off Titaan is more for me than you. From my heart, I do care; I want you and Sarai to be happy. I want what’s best for all of us. Trust me. I promise things will turn out all right.”
He swallowed. It made a fluttering sensation in his throat. “You can get me out, right?”
“I can if you haven’t somehow magicked yourself so I can’t.”
Bannor glanced again at alien landscape. “I don’t want to be stuck here.”
She sniffed. “Believe me, the last thing I want is you stuck in my head.” She folded her arms. “I’m not even sure I can wake up while we’re linked like this.” She tapped her chin as she thought for a moment. “All right, this should work.”
“What?”
“Do you want me to explain it, or just do it?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Do it.”
Wren gave his shoulder a squeeze then vanished. Moments passed. He stood alone in Wren’s dreamscape. How could he be experiencing someone else’s dream when they no longer dreamed? He didn’t know. There was so much to learn.
Bannor went to the cliff and looked down. Jagged rocks jutted from the beach, their sharp edges glinting like jewels. The waves continued to rumble. The clouds streaked across the sky like flecks of foam in river rapids. Wren had a strange imagination. He looked for signs of the savant and saw none.
What is she doing?
Sighing, he picked up a pebble and tossed it over the side. The stone hurtled downward and made a hollow clacking on the rocks. He kicked a larger stone and watched it tumble, bits of it sundering away as it rebounded off the cliff-face. Finally, it made a white spray as it smashed on top of a boulder.
He shook his head. “Wren, where in Hades are you?”
“Right behind you.”
Before Bannor could turn, he felt hands shove hard against the small of his back. For an instant, he almost caught himself at the brink, flailing for a nonexistent purchase in the air. The dreamscape spun as the crags rushed up to greet him.
* * *
One of the strange things that I have noted in my research is the strength that the Ka’Amok exhibit while in their astral body. It is spoken that while beyond the bounds of the flesh they are closer to Gaea and able to touch her power and that of Tan’Acho. My studies have failed to prove this conclusively one way or another. I do know that they are capable of some fascinating feats when not even wearing the flesh they were born in.
I know that in this ‘trick’ can be found the power that Gaea denied me.
—From the Dedriad, ‘musings of an immortal’.
Chapter Nineteen
« ^ »
The air whistled in Bannor’s ears as he plunged down the cliff side. He saw glints of diamond sharp edges and flashes of stars in tumbling midnight water. Flailing did nothing to slow his descent. Even in a dream, he couldn’t fly. Icy fear shot through his veins as the dreamscape spun, giving him flashes of the craggy shoreline looming larger.
Wren killed me…
The rocks.
The sky.
Rocks.
Sky. Bannor screamed. The sound came out muffled against a hand clamped tight to his mouth. He struggled, but a grip held him immobile. Heart hammering and lungs tight, it took him an instant to realize he was staring into Sarai’s eyes. Her silvery hair was mussed and her brow was furrowed. She hugged him closer in the blankets.
“She killed me,” he mumbled into her hand. “I would’ve died…”
“Shhh,” she hushed. “Nightmare.” She kissed him. “It’s all right.” She glared toward where Wren lay.
The savant turned in her blankets. Bannor saw her eyes glint in the firelight. He noticed the others stirring. Despite Sarai’s attempt to silence him, his outburst had been audible.
Wren’s voice echoed in his head. Sorry, scaring you out was the only way. Before you get mad—how many times have you fallen in a dream and actually hit bottom?
The statement didn’t reassure him. He felt betrayed. The blood still pounded in his temples. A repeating image of the stony fangs rushing toward him flickered through his mind.
I trusted her, and she killed me.
Not replying, he simply stared at her.
Wren frowned. Oh, grow up. You got yourself into it that time. Don’t scowl at me because my way wasn’t gentle. I’m not your mother or your girlfriend. She glanced out at the reeds. Lie there and sulk. I’m going to see if you’re right about us being watched. Rolling onto her back she crossed her arms underneath the blankets. He knew Wren was composing herself to go astral and scout the area.
His face still burned. She shouldn’t have done that.
Sarai stared at him. “My One, what happened?” she asked in a whisper. “Wren spoke in my mind and told me you would awake violently. What did she do?”
Bannor shook his head, keeping his attention on the savant. Her head lolled to one side. He saw the misty image that must be Wren’s astral form leaving her body. It looked like a trail of vapor spiraling up out of the blankets. Bannor guessed he needed to be astral himself to see Wren’s phoenix form when she didn’t want to be seen.
Sarai poked him. “Bannor?”
He swallowed. The thundering of his heart slowed. His anger diminished as the pounding lessened. Wren’s barb still nagged at him. Little witch didn’t have to do that. She scared me on purpose. He didn’t want to admit to himself how well she’d succeeded.
Bannor hugged Sarai. “I’m all right,” he whispered.
“What’s going on?”
He scanned the reeds for evidence of the observer he sensed earlier. He sniffed the air. A hint of that tangy scent he first detected still lingered. Where have I smelled that before?
Sarai nipped his chin to get his attention. “Bannor?”
He kissed her forehead. “Something is watching us.”
She frowned and glanced around. Like most elves, Sarai possessed exceptional vision. Even on a starless night, she could pick up silhouettes where all he could see was black.
She’d once described how the night looked to her; the vegetation and rocks like vague greenish outlines, warm blooded animals standing out brighter against the darker shapes of trees and rocks.
“I don’t see anything,” she said after a moment. “Are you certain?”
He nodded. “Can you smell that sweet odor?”
She closed her eyes and sniffed. Sarai’s brow furrowed and her nostrils dilated as she searched for that elusive scent. Her jaw tightened. He could almost see her digging in her memory for the identity of that trace.
“A spice of some kind,” she determined.
Spice. Bells went off in Bannor’s head. The memory screamed at him. Sarai had brought it partially into focus. Something about spice. Spice-wood? No. Where else did you get that odor? Spice oil… No one in the borderlands could afford to wear it. Only a lord could…
Mazerak! How could he have forgotten the smell of that block-faced dandy with his blood-colored cloak, shiny boots, and velvet finery? That must be his scent. Hiding? That didn’t seem like the fop’s style. What was going on?
“Duquesne,” he murmured. “It’s him.”
“Duquesne?” Sarai’s features tightened. She seemed to be trying to figure out how he reached that conclusion. Her eyes widened. “That’s his skin oil!”
Bannor nodded. He probed the surroundings. Why hadn’t Wren returned? It would take only moments to scout around in her astral form.
Unless Wren was who Duquesne came after. With the savant out of the way, one of the only persons able to help them would be gone.
“Something’s wrong.” He slid out of the bedroll and pulled on his boots. Shivering, he rubbed his arms and patted some life into them. His breath made plumes in the damp night air. The clearing remained quiet except for the crackling of the flames and the creak of the barge moored nearby. The bargemen continued to snore in the hull. The reddish light of the Triatus moon gave everything a crimson sheen.
Sarai tossed off the blankets revealing her pale skin to the night. Now back in contact with her element, hot and cold no longer bothered her. She stretched then donned her breeches, boots, and halter.
He glanced at the others surprised that the conversation hadn’t awakened someone. All appeared normal. Everyone breathed evenly. Irodee snuggled closer to Laramis and his face sought the curve of her neck. Dac grumbled and pitched in his sleep, hands clenching and unclenching around the blankets he used for a pillow.
Bannor turned his attention to the reeds. The cover provided by that thick wall of vegetation worked for and against them. The reeds would hide any assailants until he was stepping on them.
Wren had said to stay put.
; A voice in his head told him the savant had an aggravating way of being right. Instinct told him that something went wrong. Whether Sarai trusted Wren or not, they needed the savant to escape the avatars. Her ingenuity had pulled them through some tight situations.
I’m tired of hiding. He picked up his axes, flipped them in the air and caught them. Time to show them I can do something besides run away.
“Give me a few moments. Wake the others. Then come after me.”
Sarai picked up the blade given to her by the elven guardsman and belted it on. She scowled. “No, we go together or not at all.”
Bannor growled. He didn’t have time to argue. The glint in Sarai’s eyes and the set of her jaw said she wouldn’t back down. “Fine. If there’s a battle, the sounds will bring them running anyway.”
A cold feeling crawled up his legs. He sensed wrongness in the air. He studied the sleepers and debated whether he should wake them now.
He and Sarai needed to do this themselves.
“All right, shadow me. Let’s make them think there’s only one.”
Nodding, she picked up her bow and quiver and arranged them.
Bannor crept to the barge. He could see the bodies of the bargemen lying in their bedrolls between the crates. None of them stirred. He gestured to Sarai and moved along the water’s edge toward the reeds.
The gurgling of the river and the creak of the mooring lines sounded loud in the silence. He smelled the fetid odor of marshy ground and decaying vegetation. The squish of his boots in the mud made him uneasy. It was poor footing if he was forced to fight. His heart picked up speed, and his stomach tightened. The sense of unease grew stronger.
He glanced back at Sarai. His betrothed looked like nothing more than a black outline with two violet ellipses that winked on an off as she blinked. She glided across the marshy ground in complete silence leaving no trace. Back at the Hade’s flats they learned Sarai’s new elemental powers allowed her to move unimpeded across ground no matter how brittle or soft.
He slid deeper into the reed thicket. The crimson moon’s hazy illumination made the fluff topped stalks appear to glow. The breeze riffled the narrow shafts, making a low humming. So quiet. Why no insects and animals? He heard no croakers or night singers.
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