Call of Brindelier (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 3) (20 page)

BOOK: Call of Brindelier (Keepers of the Wellsprings Book 3)
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Chapter Twenty-One: Sails and Pearls

Tib
 

“Will he live, Valenor?”

“If he allows their magic.”

“Sorcerers’ healers? He won’t. You know Tib.”

“Sometimes we must make difficult choices in order to survive, my dear Ki. You know this better than most.”

“Why won’t he wake? It’s been hours…”

“He is only now becoming aware.”

I am. Aware, I mean. Of soft sunlight on my face. Of a calloused hand in each of mine. Of the voices of people who care about me. I’ve been aware of them for a while, actually. I’ve just been afraid to open my eyes. Afraid if I do, I’ll lose the dream.

“Your sister is here, Tib. As am I,” Valenor says. “You are safe for the moment, but your time is waning. Will you join us?”

I squeeze one hand. Ki’s hand. Then I squeeze the other. She cries silently. She doesn’t speak. I don’t need her to, though. I know who she is.

“Saesa?” I whisper.

“Tib,” she gives a choked sob and presses my hand to her wet cheek.

“I don’t want to wake up,” I murmur.

“It is nigh impossible that you would wake against your will, my friend,” Valenor says mournfully, “under the circumstances.”

His words swim in my thoughts. The face of the jagged cliff side streaks through my mind. I remember the pain as each bone broke. That pain is gone now. I feel nothing. I understand. I’m in the Dreaming. I trust Valenor if he says I won’t wake up. I open my eyes. Slowly. Carefully.

The first thing I see are sails stretched tight by a rush of wind. I hear the creak of wood. Masts. The crow’s nest towers over me. Soft white clouds drift above. Sunlight gleams on Saesa’s orange curls. Her eyes are red and puffy. She leans over me. Gives a reassuring smile. A fan of shimmering black hair tickles my face as Ki does the same.

“Sister,” I grin, and she scoops me into her arms. Beside me, Saesa sniffles again. “Why are we on a ship?” I ponder.

“We should ask you the same, my friend,” Valenor’s voice drifts on the wind. “After all, this dream is of your making.”

I peer over my sister’s shoulder. Through the black locks of her hair that whip in the breeze, I look into the distance, expecting to see the familiar line of sea meeting sky. I don’t, though. There’s no sea. Just sky. I jump to my feet and nearly knock Ki over as I sprint to the port side. I lean over, way over.

The ship’s belly rounds out below me. Beyond that, a bladder of air. Just like in my drawings. Just like in my designs, wings of varying shapes and sizes stretch out, bracketed to the bulwarks. They reach forward and back like a great, graceful bird, pushing us forward with ease. I whoop and run to the bow, where I lean so far over that Ki has to catch my ankles to keep me from teetering over, into the sky.

The ground below is patches of dark and light green. Golden fields. Gray stone mountains. We’re so high up that it doesn’t even feel like we’re moving. A flock of geese fall in beside us. They keep time with the strokes of the ship’s great wings, honking their greetings.

“It’s unbelievable!” I shout into the wind. I race aft, to the quarterdeck, to the captain’s wheel. I stare at it for a moment in disbelief. I put my hand on it. Give it just a small turn. The ship responds smoothly, listing to port. “It’s impossible!” I laugh and spin on my heels and climb up to look over the aft, where four enormous blades spin lazily. Benen’s blades.

“They work!” I whoop. “It works!” I spin back to face the others. Valenor’s cloak flaps into view first, and the rest of him follows. He stands between Saesa and Ki. My chest feels like it could burst with joy.

“You did it, didn’t you? You finished it.” I jog down the steps and hug all three of them at once. “I’m not even mad that you did it without me. It’s amazing! How did you know what to do? Did you use magic? Was it difficult to get the ship floating?”

When no one replies, I pull away from them and catch them giving each other worried glances.

“What?” I ask, confused but still beaming with triumph. My invention works. I can fly anywhere now. The port at Cerion will never be the same. Ships. Floating ships!

“It’s a dream, Tib,” Saesa says gently. “It’s your dream. It’s not real. You haven’t finished it yet.”

I look at Ki. She nods apologetically. My heart plummets. The ship fades from beneath us. I’m falling again. The cliffs rise up beside me. The jagged rocks rush past, sharp and cruel. Saesa tumbles past. Ki grabs my wrist. Reaches for Saesa, too. Valenor’s cloak stretches out and gathers us up. The blur of the rocks slows. We settle into darkness. It’s night. The sea is calm. Its black waters swirl, licking at my body. I’m alone. Broken. Lying on a rock.

A figure drifts close to me. Tall and slender, dark and wicked, he flicks his hand out in haste. I feel the spell settle over me. Levitation. It does nothing. I can’t be touched by spells.

“Ki,” I scream. “Saesa!”

I can’t move. Broken back, broken legs, broken hip, broken arms. I shouldn’t have survived. I should be dead. My mouth is filled with blood but I can’t swallow. Can’t even choke.

“Valenor!” Wait. How can I scream for them if I can’t even swallow? Is this real? Is it a dream? A memory?

Osven sneers at my broken body with disgust. He hovers a hand over me. Detection spell. I’m alive. He lands beside me. He’s outwardly annoyed. He looks far above at the fortress. Maybe thinking about asking for help. In the end, he decides not to. He picks me up. My body is limp. I dribble blood down the front his perfect gray robe.

A different place, now. A room. A stone slab like an altar in the center. I’m lying on it, neatly arranged. My hands are clasped over my chest like a corpse at a viewing. It’s strange. I’m lying there, but I’m standing watching, too. Somewhere nearby, Saesa sniffles.

A woman in brown robes stands beside me. Her fingertips glow pink. Healing magic flows from them, bathing me in its glow. Her hand begins to shake. She’s been here for hours. She takes her hand away. Presses her palms to the stone and leans, exhausted.

“Next!” Osven bellows. The healer steps back, only to be replaced by another.

“You,” Osven growls at the spent woman and grabs her arm as she rushes past. “You have failed. Explain.”

“He resists it,” the woman offers wearily. “I might as well have been healing the stone itself. It would have done as much good.”

Osven glances at her replacement. This healer bows his head. He whispers a fervent, faithful prayer and presses both hands to the sides of my head. The pink energy glows.

My awareness shifts. Someone else is here with me. Someone familiar. Someone comforting. I search the room for her. She’s difficult to find at first. Hidden by iron. Bars. A cage. A cat.

“Zeze!” I rush to her and reach for the cage, but I’m not really here. My hands go right through the bars. Right through her. She sits watching, though. She sees me. Both of me. Her eyes meet mine. Calm. Trusting. Waiting.

I spin on my heels. Run straight through the healer. Straight through myself on the dais. Fling myself at Osven. I want to claw his eyes out. I want to choke him. Feel his life leaving him. Watch him bleed out.

“I hate you,” I scream at him, “I hate all of you!” I lash at him wildly. Swing through him. My fists are clouds. Apparitions. He doesn’t even feel my energy. Some Sorcerer.

“Valenor,” I cry, confused. I feel him beside me before he appears. His cloak flutters around me, offering peace. Offering comfort. I welcome it. I let it close around me. I let it calm me. I let him take me away from here.

We’re on his terms now. Valenor. The Dreamwalker. My friend. The darkness is pushed out by light. Forms swim before me, silhouetted. Saesa. Ki.

We settle in the grass at the base of a great castle. He lets me sit for a while, in between Ki and Saesa, drinking in the sun. When he knows I’m calm enough, he speaks.

“Do you understand what you have seen, Tib?” he asks.

“I think so. This isn’t real. The real me is in that fortress, about to die,” I say. “And they have Zeze.” My heart pangs with the last, and my anger starts to bubble again. “They’re trying to heal me, but they can’t.”

“Two days they’ve tried, Tib,” Valenor says with a disapproving shake of his head. “Why do you deny them?”

“Deny them? What are you talking about? I’m unconscious! Besides, what difference does it make? I’ve been healed before without having to give anyone permission!”

“People you were familiar with,” Valenor explains. “You welcomed their healing. These are strangers. They cannot touch you with magic, good or bad.”

While I turn his words over in my mind I note something else. Something different about him. No, not something. Someone. A familiar pulse. Golden wings and armor of the same. A gold fleck in his eyes, peering out at me.

“Mevyn?” I whisper and push myself to my feet. Ki and Saesa follow me silently, like they’re afraid I’ll stray too far. “Is that you?”

“It is,” Valenor says, and Mevyn’s voice echoes within his.

I reach out to him, to Valenor, shocked by my reaction to our reunion. Tears roll down my cheeks. I missed him. Mevyn’s presence fills a hole I didn’t even realize I had.

“This reaction is quite normal,” Mevyn explains. “I assure you, there is no magic between us, my old friend. What you are feeling is the bond we had. It is still present, despite the distance between us. It always will be. I would explain further, but there are far more urgent matters at hand.”

“Why do you speak through Valenor?” I ask him, disappointed. “I’d like to see you.”

“I cannot leave the Wellspring for the Dreaming. Not now. We are on the precipice of Dusk. Tib, you must listen.”

I don’t know how to respond. I have too many questions. I remember what Nessa says. Silence draws truth. I wait.

“Your title, Dreamstalker, still stands. As such, you cannot be touched by magic. You cannot be swayed by Mentalism. You cannot be harmed by Sorcery. You cannot be healed by Mending. None of the Arcane can touch you, unless you will it so. Unless you consent to it. Do you understand?”

“What if I don’t consent?” I ask. “What if I let myself die? What happens to me then?”

“Death is the Great Mystery, Tib. We only know that if you die, you will be gone from our reach. Only your shell will remain on the worldly plain, and it is an evil act to pluck you back from wherever the rest of you goes,” Valenor’s voice is stronger during this explanation. The corner of his eyes crinkle with a smile even through his light scowl. “We hope this is not the end you wish. Especially not in the grips of Sorcerers who are capable of raising you and manipulating you. For, once you are dead, your titles die with you.”

“Of course I don’t want that,” I say impatiently. “And I won’t leave Zeze in their hands. I want to stop them. They need to be stopped. Do you know what they’re doing? They’re raising the prince! I felt him there. I felt them doing it. If what you’re saying is true, then they can do that to him, can’t they? They can bring him back. Manipulate him.”

“One of many sinister plots, Tib.” Valenor says. “One of many. But you must understand what you face, should you allow them to heal you. We cannot reach you in that place. It is too protected. If you are to return, once you do, I cannot stand beside you.”

“But we were just there together! I don’t understand.”

“I was able to reach you at the cliffs, my friend.” Valenor explains. “Their wards and iron walls protect the fortress, but not the grounds surrounding it. And I was your guest in the Dreaming in the room with the dais. Once you awake, I shan’t be able to reach you there. But you will not be alone. Zeze will be with you.”

“You need to be calm about it, Tib,” Saesa offers quietly. “When you wake up, don’t lose your temper.”

“You need to outsmart them and get out of there,” Ki says. “You can do it.”

I look from one of them to the other. My sister. My best friend. It makes sense that Ki would be here. She can travel easily to the Dreaming from Kythshire, as long as she has Iren’s permission. We’ve met here lots of times before. Saesa is another story, though. The Dreaming is vast. Infinite.

“How did you find us, Saesa?” I ask.

Saesa’s eyes flick to the air beside her head.

“Are you going to come out now?” she asks. “I think he’s agreed. You’re going to let them heal you, right, Tib? You’re going to go back?”

“Do not answer yet,” Mevyn’s echo rings out. “As soon as you agree, their healing will wake you.”

“Who are you talking to?” I ask Saesa.

The air shimmers beside her, revealing a slender, stick-like form.

“Afternoon,” Twig bows merrily. “Glad to see you up and about, Tib, so to speak.”

I look from him to Saesa. Shake my head.

“I don’t understand,” I say. “Why aren’t you with the princess? Is she all right? Did something happen?”

“I’ll be happy to explain later,” Twig says cheerfully. “Once you wake up.”

“But, how…” I’m so confused, I can’t even form a question.

“Like I said,” Twig grins, “all questions will be answered at a later point in time. What you need to do is get Zeze, okay? Get the cat, and have them bring you outside. Someplace calm, if you can. A place with trees would definitely help. Or even just a little grass. And Tib? It’s really important that you succeed. Really, really important.”

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