Dust of Dreams: Guardians of Light, Book 4

by Renee Wildes

  “How long was I asleep?” Benilo reached for the cup of water Brannan poured and handed to him.

  “Couple of hours,” the healer said. “How do you feel?”

  “Renewed.” He offered his former apprentice a chagrined smile. “I have done you a grave injustice. You are farther along than I gave you credit for. I was so focused on the spirit crystal that I was blind to much else. I do not think the spirit crystal shall be much trouble for you, anymore, either.”

  “Probably not,” Brannan agreed. To Benilo, the younger elf felt whole, balanced, at peace. “You were ill and not yourself. As I said, we have all been content to leave things the same. Mayhaps this was the Lady’s wake-up call to us all.”

  “Hello!” Anika’s voice called from the darkness. “Got any food to share with a couple of weary travelers?”

  Pryseis leaped to her feet with a glad cry and rushed to embrace her old friend. She returned with the elven air mage and the stolid dwarven metal mage, Pahn. They came bearing bread, cheese, dried fruit and—wonder of wonders—spiced khaffa.

  Anika glowed like a ghostly apparition in the firelight, with her white hair and robes, as she looked over him and Brannan. “My my, how things hath changed. Not much I canst do with thee—” She marched over and smacked Brannan atop the head, “—but as for thee…” Her gaze alit as it settled on Benilo. “Thou art all mine.”

  “Hey,” Brannan protested, then yelped as his face turned white.

  “The dragon spell be gone,” Anika explained with an evil smile. “He and the king hath some catching up to do.”

  Brannan wandered off to endure his reprimand/interrogation in privacy.

  Benilo winced in sympathy.

  Pahn glowered at Dax as Pryseis handed around the bread. “You have something of mine, troll?” she asked in a gravelly voice.

  Dax growled, probably out of reflex, and Benilo saw Pryseis catch his gaze and shake her head. “Aye.” He handed over the staff More with palpable relief.

  Pahn took it in her stubby hands with an expression that was awe and reverence mingled with deep respect. “My thanks for returning it to my people.”

  “It almost destroyed mine,” Tik snapped. “Why would you create such a horrible thing?”

  With Anika present, they did not need Pryseis to translate for anyone. A communication spell was child’s play for an air adept. Unlike Benilo, who could not even raise his own shields.

  “What were your people doing messing around with magic that wasn’t yours and you didn’t ken?” Pahn demanded, dark eyes flashing in her square face. “You goblins stole it—”

  “Quark said he found it!” Mog squeaked.

  The look she cast his way was measuring, nearly unfathomable. “Found it over three fresh dwarf bodies, one of them a shaman.” Pahn glared. “It was not meant for you and yours. You kenned that, didn’t you? Did you think it was a weapon?”

  Since that was exactly how the goblin sorcerer had wielded it, none of them had an answer for that.

  “’Tis an enhancing talisman, as its name suggests. Used by wise men and shamans for generations to answer the really tough questions, to enhance wisdom and possibilities.” The emphasis she put on the word “shaman” made the lad start, and another long glance passed betwixt the dwarven mage and the young goblin.

  Benilo had never heard the dwarf string so many words in a row together. His people must be leaving their influence on her.

  “I never want to see it again.” Tik’s voice was grim and bitter.

  Pahn’s gaze hardened. “You won’t.” She muttered something guttural and dwarvish. More glowed briefly…and vanished. The world would probably not see it again for several lifetimes. Benilo felt a twinge of regret, of loss. She met his gaze and shook her head. Mayhaps she was right. Some things were best left alone.

  Dax held out a generous portion of swamp buck to Pahn. “Hungry?”

  “I could eat, aye.” Pahn took the meat and plunked down onto the pine needle-strewn ground betwixt Dax and Mog.

  Anika eased down aside Benilo. “Thou hast had quite an adventure, Minister.”

  Pryseis slid in behind him, her smooth arms curling around his shoulders. “He healed the goblins and saved Mog’s life.”

  “Thou took a life and so lost thy powers,” Anika reproved.

  Benilo leaned back into his lifemate’s softness and strength, stared up at the stars through the branches of the trees. The dark velvet of the night, the wind rustling through grass and leaves, the hooting call of a night owl—it all swirled around him in pulsing waves of life. Every breath she took tickled his ear, every brush of her breasts against his back, the beat of her heart, he felt as his own. Life and breath and wind swirled around him in a dizzying force that went on forever. He gasped and swayed. Pryseis’ shield intensified slightly.

  “Steady, lad,” Anika murmured. “Let it not sweep thee away. I canst reinforce thy shields, Pryseis, until we canst get him back to Crystal Mountain. There he shall be better equipped to learn to create his own.”

  Anything to keep Pryseis from expending her own strength.

  A small hand yanked his hair. Hard. “I can handle it,” Pryseis hissed. “I’m not a bairn.”

  The fire in her soul heated his own. Nay she was not, no youngling but a passionate, giving woman with soft skin, sweet curves and lush mouth…

  “Time and place, lad.” His ardor cooled at Anika’s laughing thought. “Nay, thou are not,” she agreed. “But thou hast never had to shield more than one, nor contain a newly awakened mage gift in one with absolutely no control. I, on the other hand, am quite experienced in both, and I canst continuously tap into the winds so I doth not expend mine own energy. Until thou return to the pool, Pryseis, thou canst not say the same.”

  Pryseis flinched. Goddess, she feared returning to that mountaintop tomorrow.

  “Analahamme,” she whispered, in his ear, in his mind. Her heart froze with horror; he shook with the chill of it.

  “They shall not,” Benilo vowed. Conviction burned in his heart, warming the chill. “When we all return together—faerie, elf, troll, dwarf and goblin. Five races united and standing together. When we report your success, even Maeve must acknowledge you.”

  Dax snorted. “I’ve argued with boulders with more success.”

  “She is but one,” Benilo persisted. “Surely she can be overruled.”

  “’Tis not their way,” Pryseis said. “They follow more than lead.”

  “Well then, they canst follow thee,” Anika pronounced.

  That staggered his beautiful mate. “Challenge Maeve for the council?” Pryseis squeaked.

  “Why not?” Dax demanded. “That small-minded bitch is strangling our people, yours and mine. We could both do so much more if the restrictions were lifted.”

  “You need to join the rest of the world,” Pahn stated. Mog and Tik nodded.

  Benilo reached up to run his fingers through her hair, gently rubbing the knotted muscles in her neck. “You would be amazing, because you would not force people to bend to your will. They could grow and develop their own strengths under your leadership, example and influence. Respect and an open mind, the willingness to see the similarities and not the differences.”

  She trembled at the jumble of thoughts, emotions.

  Footsteps crunched dried twigs and old leaves underfoot. “What did I miss?” Brannan asked.

  Chapter Twelve

  Pryseis stared up at the glittering mountaintop with a pang of mixed longing and dread, wrapping her cloak closer around her body against a chill not entirely due to the wind. She waited for Mog and Tik to catch up. Crystal Mountain. Home. The call of the pool rushed in her ears, pulling at her soul. The intensity of the need surprised her. She’d been granted a new, full seven-sunrise by the Goddess, and had thought to be free of the cloying lure. She’d never considered home a gilded prison afore, but surrounded by people who could come and go at will, without repercussions, made a part of her chafe at the u
nfairness. Why had the Mother bound the faeries so?

  Warm reassurance flooded her, easing the tension a bit. Benilo kenned how hard this was for her. His unflagging support was heartening. Yet at the same time, she’d made him a prisoner too. If she couldn’t leave, and he wouldn’t leave…

  Well.

  “Enough brooding,” he ordered. Benilo actually looked forward to seeing her home and people. The faerie mystique.

  She snorted. Was he bound for disappointment.

  A high-pitched squeal jerked her from her musings. Pryseis turned to see Dax lift Mog up onto his shoulders, so the lad towered above them all. The little goblin clutched the long, matted coils of her nephew’s hair, but wonder and awe quickly replaced the fear on his face as he looked around him.

  “I’m bigger than everyone!” Mog stared up at the mountain. “’Tis so high,” he breathed. “I’ll wager you can see the whole world from up there.”

  Brannan smiled. “The world is bigger than you think.”

  “Getting smaller every day,” Pahn commented.

  That it was. Since the faeries wouldn’t, or couldn’t, go out into the world, Pryseis was bringing the world to them. “Ready or not, here I come,” she called. Not that she expected anyone to hear her up there, but Mog laughed.

  At least someone laughed.

  Anika and Tik were silent on this trek, each lost in her own thoughts. It had to be difficult for the goblins, out in the glaring sunlight, but neither complained of distress.

  Dax started up the steep trail, with the elves in his wake. Pryseis followed with Pahn and Tik bringing up the rear. They wound their way around boulders, sliding on the occasional errant pebble. Tik huffed and puffed in the thinning air, and Brannan looked to be but slightly better off. The raven New Moon soared overhead, urging them on with her harsh metallic screech. She seemed permanently bound to Dax. Pryseis wondered what her nephew thought of that.

  “We’re climbing right into the sun,” Mog fretted.

  “Nay, lad,” Dax reassured him. “The top of the mountain touches the light, but not the sun itself. The sun rises and sets over the mountain just like it does everywhere else.”

  “Except my home.” Mog’s voice sounded sad. Sad to be away from home, or sad to have missed for so long all he viewed now?

  Hours passed. Pryseis’ leg muscles burned, and trickles of sweat plastered her hair against the back of her neck. Her tunic clung to her clammy skin, making her breasts itch. If she could but stop for a quick scratch… Benilo grinned at her. She made a face at him and struck a long-suffering pose.

  They neared the top.

  “Speak naturally,” Anika advised. “I canst ensure all parties ken each other. There shall be no language barriers. This be too important to risk errors.”

  A great weight rolled off Pryseis’ shoulders.

  Braxx met them with his giant axe in both meaty hands as their little troop gathered together at the summit. He stared wide-eyed at the people standing afore him.

  Mog stared back, his neck craned to meet the rock troll’s astounded gaze. “You’re huge!” he marveled. Even on Dax’s shoulders, he had to look up. Braxx towered above them all.

  “You’ve returned,” Braxx rumbled, his gaze lowering to meet Dax’s. “’Tis been more than seven sunrises. She should be dead.”

  She. Not you. Pryseis’ eyes stung. Did Analahamme hold already? “I’m not dead,” she told him.

  His gaze slid over hers to acknowledge the elves, Pahn and Tik—but not her. She was dead.

  “Breathe, my love.” Benilo sent her a quick wave of warm reassurance. “Pryseis succeeded,” he stated. “She brought all of us together to speak with the council.”

  “They’ve been summoned,” Braxx replied.

  Hallar arrived first, breathless and flustered. For a moment her lavender gaze locked with Pryseis’, a shock of recognition and relief. She tugged her own sparkling iridescent hair, and frowned at Pryseis’ faded locks and skin. Hearing the council coming up behind her, she schooled her face into a blank mask and turned away. Maeve followed at her own pace, Tauni still farther back, at the rear of the pack like a whipped dog. The head of the council had eyes only for Anika.

  Maeve’s lip curled. “’Tis been a long time, mage. What brings you here, and in such company, uninvited and unannounced?”

  Pahn growled, but stilled as Anika’s hand came to rest on her shoulder.

  “I be sent by King Loren bearing news,” Anika announced. “With me thou canst see Prince Brannan, Ambassador Pahn and my new apprentice Benilo. I believe thou art already acquainted with Pryseis and Dax. And we bring Mog and Tik, who art newly healed by Pryseis and Benilo. We represent the people of these lands, and thy welcome be truly lacking. Dost thou always leave imperial messengers standing in the dust, tired and dirty, without an offer of rest and refreshment?” Her icy tone was a match for Maeve’s. “Doth I report to my king that his delegation wast so poorly treated?”

  The glittering, colorful council shifted uneasily and muttered amongst itself. Hallar flushed. “You’re right,” she stated. “If you would accompany us, we can show you to a guest chamber.”

  They trailed the council, surrounded by trolls and multi-colored faeries, until they reached Crystal Palace. Dax helped Mog down. The gilded wooden door was just wide enough to admit one at a time. One by one they filed in, only to have Braxx bar Pryseis from entering. “Naught but the living may enter,” he rumbled.

  “She’s not dead.” Mog looked puzzled. “Are you blind? She’s right here.”

  “He can’t see her, lad,” Pahn said.

  “Nay,” Dax growled, murder in his deep brown eyes. “He refuses to see her. That’s an entirely different matter.”

  Gone too long from the pool’s illuminating effects, dimmed and faded as she was, Pryseis probably looked dead. Banned from the council and the palace, dead to the world. Analahamme, just as Maeve had promised. Pryseis choked on the lump in her throat.

  One by one, her companions filed back out to sit on the cold, stony ground about her. Benilo wrapped his arms around her. “They want a fight, they shall get a fight,” he said. “They take all of us or none of us. We shall not leave you.”

  Hallar and Tauni looked nonplussed. “What are you doing?” Hallar fretted.

  “Our company be unwelcome to thee,” Anika stated. Her voice was mild; her face, implacable. “We canst not enter, thus we rest out here.”

  Tauni ran inside, robes flapping as she disappeared, emerging several minutes later with green faerie servants bearing food and drinks. They set it afore Pryseis’ friends. Even Mog ignored it.

  The council traipsed back out. Maeve’s amber eyes were furious, although her face showed schooled disinterest. The common people clustered as close as they dared to see the drama unfold.

  “We mourn the death of our sister Pryseis,” Maeve stated. “If you bear greetings from King Loren, we would hear it inside.” She raised her voice. “The affairs of the council are not for common ears.”

  A few cowed villagers dispersed; most stayed. A forest troll child crept closer to Mog. “You’re little,” he said.

  “And you’re big,” Mog replied.

  Pryseis studied the two lads. Next to the young male troll, Mog looked even more unfinished in comparison. How odd that for goblins, development happened in a sudden, single moment in time instead of over several years like the other races. And only the proximity of a compatible mate would trigger it. Separated from his people, what he never found his mate?

  “Do you go to school too?”

  “What’s school?”

  The troll looked surprised. “Where children get together as a group to play and learn under an adult.”

  Mog shook his head. “Not yet,” he replied in a wistful voice.

  Pryseis vowed then and there that would change. Mog would go to school and be a normal child. It begins here, now.

  “Can you play with me?” the troll persisted.

  Mog
looked at his mother uncertainly. Dax’s gaze swept the crowd. “Are there any here who would dishonor their mother by harming a child?” he demanded.

  “The child is safe,” Braxx declared. “This is a matter for adults. Let the child roam free.”

  The troll child held out a hand. Tik nodded. Mog got up, and the children disappeared toward the troll tenements.

  “Well, don’t the littles make you look a pack of fools.” Pahn sneered at the faerie council.

  Tauni hissed, looking affronted at the insult.

  “Don’t you ken what Pryseis did?” Tik asked. “My people suffered a dark sickness, nightmares and fears we couldn’t shake. I ken you felt it—’tis what you do. But you did naught. Only Pryseis came, and she made us well again. Without her, our leaders would have gone mad and done terrible things to others.”

  “The goblins slew one of our shamans, stole a dwarven talisman and used it for evil,” Pahn added. “We’d have marched against them to get it back. Pryseis averted a war.”

  “She is dead,” Maeve insisted.

  “She stood alone against the darkness, and when her net threatened to shred, she spun her heart and soul into it,” Benilo said. “I was once a spirit healer, and able to keep her alive through the elements. No longer, and so she has returned to the pool. You speak of caring for the other races of the world. The way we see it, the only one who cares about us is she.”

  “We be banding together—elves, dwarves, humans and goblins,” Anika added. “We wouldst gladly welcome the rest of the trolls and faeries as friends, as we already hath with Dax and Pryseis. Dost thou also join us or separate thyselves forever?”

  “The trolls are ours,” Maeve snapped.

  Brannan shook his head, ignoring Dax’s look of warning. “The trolls are their own. They chose to join you. They can choose otherwise. They are a separate people, who deserve to be free and follow their own destiny.”

  Shrieks of childish glee reached their ears. Braxx’s brows rose. Several troll guards muttered amongst themselves.

  Pryseis felt Benilo’s start of surprise. To her mate, the prince had matured nearly beyond recognition.