Dust of Dreams: Guardians of Light, Book 4

by Renee Wildes

  “When not one of you would stoop to helping a lowly undeserving goblin lad—” Tik’s voice was hard and bitter, “—Pryseis gave my son her own energy so he could be whole again. She sacrificed everything, and you punish her? She’s greater than the rest of you combined.”

  Benilo flushed with shame at how he’d reacted to that giving. Pryseis leaned into him, embracing the heat, softening it to something else. “I love you,” she stated. Her cheeks flushed. It was embarrassing to hear everyone praising her actions as they recounted the tale.

  “She’s always embraced and welcomed others, starting with me,” Dax said.

  “You’re related,” Maeve dismissed.

  “Well I’m not,” Tik retorted. “Ask Pryseis where her amulet is.”

  Maeve’s mouth tightened until her lips all but disappeared.

  Hallar’s lavender eyes widened, and she furtively met Pryseis’ gaze for a moment afore it slid away. “Did she lose it or give it away?” she asked Tik.

  “Ask her,” Dax growled. “Ask Pryseis. She’s your sister, for Mother’s sake.”

  Benilo startled.

  “Just by clan, not by blood,” Pryseis amended. “She’s a fellow dream faerie and council member. Those are the ties he refers to.”

  The council remained silent. The visitors, likewise. Stalemate.

  The ground was hard and cold. Icy wind whistled around them, whipping their hair into knotted swirls. Pahn’s stomach growled. Pryseis’ backside had numbed, and she shifted uncomfortably. Tik trembled. Dax tapped the goblin on the shoulder and handed her a meat stick. Tik shook her head but he remained adamant. Pryseis remembered him telling her goblins needed to eat more often than others—their small bodies stored less energy and burned it quicker. Pryseis nodded to her. She’d not have Tik fall ill just to prove a point. The goblin reluctantly accepted it and took a bite.

  Slowly, the crowd dispersed to their homes.

  Hallar stared at Pryseis as the shadows lengthened on the ground. The sun set, and mundane green faerie servants lit torches around the courtyard. Soon, dark would fall, and the nets would have to be cast. Would Pryseis’ companions spend the night freezing on the mountaintop for her sake? Why didn’t they just go inside and leave her?

  “Never,” Benilo vowed. “All or none.”

  Mog came running up with three newfound friends. “Why are you still sitting there?” he demanded. “’Tis time for supper. Kreq’s mother invited us to eat with their kin. All of us.”

  The troll children made a public show of pulling Pryseis to her feet. Her legs barely supported her. Her feet tingled painfully and she barely felt the ground. Benilo held her steady as she swayed and nearly tumbled into him.

  Kreq frowned. “You’ve been sitting too long, lady.”

  “Get away from her!” Maeve snarled, whacking him with her staff. “How dare you dishonor the sanctity of Analahamme!”

  “There be naught sanctified about it,” Anika snapped.

  How dare she strike a child! Furious, Pryseis whirled and yanked Maeve’s staff from her hands. “You want to punish me, fine. You hit him again and I’ll break your fast with your own staff.”

  Maeve gasped and staggered back.

  Braxx growled and stepped closer. “She’s right. No faerie, council or nay, has the right to abuse a child, troll or nay. That is the Mother’s Own law. Way I see it, you broke it twice. By not helping Mog when you could have—that’s one. By striking Kreq—that’s two.”

  “We don’t focus on individuals,” Tauni stammered. “That we save our strength for all. Pryseis ignored that and died. She faded away.”

  Braxx glared at Maeve. “I can charge you with lawbreaking and oathbreaking, afore the Mother and witnesses I charge you, faerie. Council Prime.” Yet more words with slur implications.

  Pryseis sighed. Another line drawn.

  “I saw naught.” Tauni looked to Maeve for approval.

  “Well I did.” Hallar’s face reflected utter disgust. “I’ve had enough of this. Maeve, do you acknowledge your error?”

  Maeve drew herself up. Pryseis swore she heard the Prime’s spine crack, so stiff was she.

  “The child broke Analahamme.”

  “Analahamme is council decree,” Hallar reminded everyone. “It doesn’t supersede the Mother’s Own laws.” Her lavender gaze settled on Tik, and she knelt on the cold, hard stony ground. “Madam, I regret we failed your son. I apologize to you. I should’ve followed my heart when it told me Pryseis’ truth.”

  Tik looked stunned, at a loss for words. Her eyes bugged. Pryseis laid a shaking hand on her thin gray shoulder.

  Hallar’s gaze met Pryseis’. “I’m sorry. You were right. I was a coward and a fool. But no more.” She rose to her feet and turned to the council. “I say Pryseis has returned.”

  “Lord and Lady.” Benilo all but stopped breathing.

  The council gasped at the public show of defiance, almost as a single entity. Pryseis thought Tauni might just swoon.

  Maeve’s golden face darkened as she started to shake. Rage crackled from her; Pryseis recognized the malevolence of that emotion. She’d felt enough of it from Quark. “For thousands of years we’ve kept this world at peace, by working together as a single whole,” the council Prime cried. “Only united do we succeed! Shall you turn your backs on our ways? Pryseis kenned the price—she chose to end her own life! With Analahamme we but let her go.”

  “I think you looked for a reason to banish her because she didn’t agree with you,” Hallar shouted, loud enough to draw a small crowd of everyone within hearing range. “Well, I don’t agree with you, either! Mayhaps you should banish me, too.”

  Dax choked.

  Sweet Mother of All. Pryseis checked. Nay, the sun was still setting in the west.

  “Remember your place, Councilor.” Maeve’s smile was full of menace.

  “The darkness is gone.” Hallar’s gaze swept the rest of the council. “You’ve all felt it dissipate. Pryseis succeeded where we failed.” She laughed scornfully. “Failed? Sweet Mother, we didn’t even try. Is that what we’ve stooped to, what we’ve become? More concerned with ourselves than others?”

  Even Tauni dropped her gaze.

  Hallar glared. “I say we get back to really helping others. The council is supposed to lead the faeries in doing that. If you think otherwise, then I’m better off not being on a council of fools.”

  “Whom do you follow?” Maeve challenged. “A rebel who disdains her own kind, or the one who’s led you all these years?”

  “The one who sees the world or the one who ignores it?” Hallar spat the amendment.

  “Pryseis destroys everything we believe in and stand for,” Maeve declared.

  “Pryseis challenges everything Maeve believes and stands for—Maeve.” Hallar reached for her own amulet. “Pryseis, where’s your amulet?”

  “I gave it to Ren, the new leader of Tik’s clan,” Pryseis replied, “as a symbol of a friendship he can always claim. So long as he stands for peace, I stand with him.”

  “And I stand with you.” Hallar hugged her. “I won’t stay on a council without Pryseis. She’s one of us. She’s shown us the true way. What say you?”

  “I won’t be on a council with Pryseis,” Maeve snarled.

  “Choose!” Hallar snapped.

  Tauni jumped. Her blue face paled—she’d never liked confrontation. How such a follower had been elected a leader confounded Pryseis. Unless Maeve had “convinced” the wish faeries of Tauni’s worthiness… The council needed faeries who could think for themselves and adapt to new situations. How many more asides Maeve would find themselves unwilling to do so?

  “I was elected to replace you when you left,” Nihra said. “As the most junior of the dream fairies, I step down for you to resume your place.”

  Her sister had always wanted to be a council member. For her to yield spoke volumes as to her support. Pryseis gave her a big hug, her throat too tight for words.

  “I s
tand with Hallar and Pryseis,” the third of their triad, Suri, stated.

  The four dream fairies joined hands and waited to see what the other two clans’ representatives would do.

  “Maeve, ’tis true, you’ve led us thus far,” Liva, leader of the wish faeries, began, “but you go too far. I’ve seen the coldness grow in your heart, the desire for power eroding your compassion.” Her blue eyes hardened as they pinned Tauni. “Our job’s to guide and lead. We’ve no place for those who exist only for another’s approval. You need to stand by your own convictions or step down.” She turned to Pryseis and bowed. “I see you, Pryseis, my sister. I welcome you back to your rightful place.”

  Pryseis took her hand. Five strong.

  Tauni crossed over to Maeve’s side. “I go the way of my sister.”

  Hadn’t she always? Two gone.

  Ella joined her sister Liva. “I see you, Pryseis, my sister. Dreams and wishes. May we work together to keep the world at peace and strong.”

  The hope faeries Keyla and Myri were clearly torn. Opposing Maeve would fracture their clan. Would they find a third to oppose Maeve and sit on the council? Maeve wielded enormous power over her own. But they needed equal numbers for the spirit-webs, the nets.

  “A strong council and a world at peace must supersede clan interests,” Pryseis told them. “This is the greatest contribution you can make, to your people and all the others. Show your strength now. Do what’s right, not just what Maeve tells you to.”

  “’Tis nearly nightfall,” Liva reminded them. “Do we fail for the first time to do our duty, simply because of our petty differences? For years we’ve placed the whole over the individual. You picked a bad time to change your minds, Councilors. We’re not more important than the rest of the world. We work together, for them, not ourselves.”

  “Would you leave the world without hope?” Hallar asked. “Would you leave hope without leadership or guidance? Your sisters look to you for focus and spinning.”

  “We answer to the Mother for what we do,” Ella reminded them. “Search your hearts. What would you tell Her tomorrow morning when She asks?”

  “You turn your backs on your own clan by acknowledging this rebel?” Maeve spat. “Then I see you not, Keyla and Myri.”

  “My heart breaks for you, lost one,” Keyla said. “You aren’t greater than our Mother. I shall do my duty, and pray you find your way back to yourself.” She and Myri joined the faerie-chain of councilors. “I summon Deinara to join us.”

  Kreq and Mog went to go get her. A beautiful golden hope faerie appeared shortly, her face sad as she shook her head at Maeve. “You’ve poisoned the purity of the web, but no more. We no longer acknowledge your leadership, deceiver. May the Mother help you find your way back to us.” She looked to Liva and Ella. “Whom do you call?”

  “I’m here,” Vali replied. Her darkened blue skin revealed her advanced age, the depths of her expression the wisdom to go with it. She had once been on the council, but had retired to allow those younger than she their chance. “Since Tauni has squandered her opportunity, I shall resume my place until such a time as another proves ready.”

  Tears welled as Pryseis embraced the old wish faerie. Vali was truly a power to reckon with. Blue eyes twinkled back at her as Vali patted her shoulder with surprising strength. “Once more, the nine stand afore you,” Pryseis announced in a shaking voice. “What say you, my people?”

  “Welcome home,” Nihra replied, and dropped to her knees.

  One by one, faerie and troll dropped to their knees. Even Tauni, weeping bitterly, complied with the will of her peers. Only Maeve stood upright, utter contempt on her face.

  “So be it,” Vali stated. “Maeve, may the Mother hear you tomorrow. Pryseis, you have one final bridge to cross afore you take your place tonight. Follow me.”

  The council headed for the pool. Pryseis followed in their wake. The call of the water all but drowned out everything else. She needed it more than her next breath. It had been so long… She knelt at the edge, stared into the shimmering pool at her reflection. She barely recognized herself. It was as if she’d been gone months, years, instead of days. So much happened in such a short time. Reaching out with a shaking hand, she trailed her fingers in the icy elixir, felt the lure pull at her soul.

  Benilo knelt at her side, and frowned. “Like a drug craving,” he noted, sharing a look with Brannan. The prince looked on with grim interest.

  “It ties us to the Mother, and the Mountain.” Pryseis let the need draw her in, consume her.

  “It holds you prisoner,” Benilo said.

  “It is what it is.” Pryseis cupped a handful and drank…once…twice… Euphoria seized her with a strength that bent her back and stole her breath, storming through her to fill the emptiness, lighting her soul until once again she glowed as brightly as her sisters. The wind rushed through her, the stars spun around her, and the crystals sang beneath the darkening sky. “All is as it should be.”

  “Not quite.” Benilo turned to Brannan and Anika. “She is my life mate, and I stand with her.” Afore Pryseis could blink, he reached down and cupped a handful of elixir…and drank.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Nay!” Pryseis screamed, watching in horror as Benilo dropped like a stone, staring at naught.

  Surprisingly, Anika caught her by the arm. “He belongs with you, here. He must do this to connect with you, and with Her, for all time.”

  The world fell away, and Pryseis spun away in a swirl of stars. Benilo stood at their center, as the history of all things roared through his mind. Through her mind. The Mother’s dance, the trolls and faeries, the pool of tears, the hundred-year comet that shook the earth. The three powers that shaped the world—wishes, hopes and dreams. The songs and dances that spun the nets, the spirit webs that pulled darkness away and infused Light. Little moments that soothed a rage, encouraged a despair, replaced a tear with a smile. A thousand times over a soul seemed unable to go on, only to gain that last little spark that made all things possible again.

  Benilo’s gaze met hers, the stars swirled and spun in his eyes until she was drunk and dizzy with it and had to turn away. “I ken,” he said. “I see.”

  “What have you done?” Pryseis demanded tearfully. “I wanted you to be free to come and go—not trapped here with me.”

  “Trapped, young one?” The Mother stood afore her, in all her celestial majesty. “Is that how you see it?”

  “What else, when all others are free to come and go and intermingle but us? The world passes us by—most don’t even ken our existence. We toil in solitude for years.”

  “By staying apart thou avoid making alliances that wouldst hath thou favor one side over another,” the Mother replied serenely. She rested Her hands on Pryseis’ and Benilo’s hair. “Thou hast taken the first step toward great things, but those who seek to follow must risk the trip to prove their worthiness. Those that wish it canst always find thee.”

  Peace filled Pryseis’ soul, and she abruptly found herself back in Crystal Mountain, staring into Benilo’s eyes. No longer blue, but star-black, filled with pinpoints of light as the stars overhead. She swallowed hard. “What happened to you? What did She do?”

  He smiled at her trepidation. “I am fine. I had to catch up to what you already kenned, and it was my choice to stay here.” Heedless of their audience, he swept her into his arms and kissed her breathless.

  Pryseis reeled when he released her. Still Benilo, but forever changed. How could he be so calm about it? “How long were we gone?”

  “You ken Mother time and real time flow differently. Seemed but a moment here.” Hallar laughed. “We have work to do,” her sister reminded her. “Why don’t you go on and have dinner with Kreq and join us when tonight’s spinning is done? We’ll have quarters ready for all of you.”

  The trolls led all but Pryseis off to the tenements. “He’s a good soul, with a pure heart,” Vali said. “I welcome him as our kin.”

  The faer
ies all gathered afore the crystal palace, raising their voices in a sweetly piercing song that rang out from the mountaintop into the darkness beyond. Slowly, the crystal palace began to glow, gaining in brilliance until it nigh challenged the light of the moon. A blazing beacon of hope to all who fought the darkness. Pryseis raised her arms and spun in the first move of the dance, her voice raised to blend with her sisters’, calling for the dreams of the world. Her hands spun a thread of Light into a web, twirling around Hallar and Suri and they joined their web with those of Vali, Liva and Ella, and those of Keyla, Myri and Deinara. Dreams, wishes and hopes.

  Dwarven soldiers, holding their borders against rumors of a goblin invasion. To them she gave dreams of goblin mates and children, a yearning to see their loved ones again, pulling the desire to fight from them. The enemy were people too. More was returned, there was no need to fight, but a need to go home and celebrate the restoration.

  A young elven girl dreamed of her faceless true love. Vali smiled as she and Deinara sent a thread to Pryseis, that the girl might see his face and one day recognize him in real life.

  Beyond the barriers dwelled an ancient spirit, a curious blend of tree sprite and priestess to Orthia, an ancient goddess of life. She feared her imminent passing, without hope for a successor. The child was out there, Pryseis sensed. She just needed time to grow and mature. The faeries wove an extra strand for her. “Hold on,” Pryseis whispered. “She’s there. She shall come. Don’t give up. Keep the faith.”

  And on it went, for hours, pulling and holding the darkness, blanketing the lands with a soft glow of Light. But for the first time recognizing and pinpointing the Light to individuals. Here and there, until they tired and their voices faded. Slowly, awareness of the mountaintop returned and crystal palace faded to normal.

  The common faeries returned to their home, and Benilo waded through the retreating masses to stand afore Pryseis and fold her in his arms. “That was the most magical thing I have ever experienced,” he murmured.

  She blinked in surprise. “You were there?”

  “We are one, my love. The Mother truly bound me with you, and I fully ken what it is you and your sisters do here.” He captured her lips with his, but ended the kiss too soon. “I am proud to ken you. Your heart, your courage and your compassion.”