Seven Dreams (43 page)

‘
Do
you have the keys?’

‘
What
keys?’ Egg grinned, her eyes twinkling at Serena’s
discomfort.

‘
Egg!
Come on. This is important.’

‘
I
might do,’ said Egg.

‘
You
do have them!’

‘
Then
again,’ Egg continued, ‘I might not.’

Serena
glowered.

Egg swung a chair
out from the table and threw herself into it. ‘Come on,’ she said.
‘Seriously. Those keys are a nightmare. If I did have them, would
you really want to know?’

‘
Yes,’
said Serena without hesitation.

‘
Why?’

‘
It’s
my job.’

Egg shook her
head. ‘Nuh-huh. It
was
your job, when we were hired to
participate in the whole weird, treasure-hunt adventure thing. It’s
not part of our assignment anymore. Our
assignment
, in case
you’d forgotten, is to muck about on Teyo’s farm and get our shoes
very muddy indeed.’

‘
Egg—’

‘
You
don’t want to know what became of the keys,’ said Egg bluntly, all
trace of humour gone from her face and voice. ‘Think about it.
Rhoun Torinth was right. Imagine if you knew you could always
change things, no matter what went wrong. What would that do to
your life? You’d grow careless, thinking there would always be some
recourse. You’d stop caring about things, knowing you could always
fix everything so you could get what you want. And you wouldn’t be
able to ever relax and
enjoy
anything, because you’d feel
like it was your responsibility to fix everything that might go
wrong in the lives of those around you. You’d be eaten up by guilt
every time you didn’t. What’s that but a perfect nightmare? What I
recommend is: put those keys out of your mind and pretend none of
it ever happened. That’s what I’m planning to do.’

Serena stared
narrowly at her friend, but neither Egg’s words nor her demeanour
revealed any clue as to whether she had the keys or not. ‘Just tell
me one thing,’ she said. ‘Fabian. Does he have them?’

Egg’s eyes
narrowed. She appeared to consider this question for a little
while, and finally, infinitesimally, shook her head.

Serena sagged
with relief. No fear that Fabian was out there trying to change
their shared history. ‘Very well,’ she said. ‘We can leave the
topic alone for now, but we’ll talk about this again,
someday.’

‘
Deal,’ said Egg, and jumped up. ‘Right, anyway. Are you
packed? Teyo says he’s feeling much better. I reckon we could leave
the day after tomorrow, even.’

All of Serena’s
worries vanished in an instant, and a broad smile crossed her face.
‘Really? That’s wonderful! I can’t wait to show him the farm. I’m
not packed, are you?’

Egg shook her
head, and gave an exaggerated bow, gesturing towards the doorway
with a grand sweep of her arm. ‘After you, boss.’

Upon reaching her
room, Serena discovered a new addition to her narrow, cosy bed.
Laid with utmost care across the end was a gorgeously
sunset-coloured blanket, knitted in a delicate lace pattern.
Touching it, Serena found it to be deliciously soft as
well.

Smiling, she
folded it up and placed it reverently inside her travel
bag.

End
Notes

Here ends
Seven Dreams!
Look out for more books in
The Lokant
Libraries
series in the future. If you enjoyed this book,
please consider leaving a review at your favourite book store -
this helps to spread the word.

If you'd like to
read the story of how the draykoni were restored to the Seven
Realms, try
 
The Draykon
Series
. Book one,
 
Draykon
,
is available to download for
 
free
. Read on for a
preview!

Prologue

On one cool
afternoon when the rain fell in gentle, glittering droplets and the
ground underfoot was spongy with moisture, nine-year-old Llandry
Sanfaer walked with her mother beneath the trees far to the south
of the Glinnery forests. They were gathering mushrooms, diminutive
little fungi with stems fat with juice and caps painted with
colour. Llandry crowed with delight each time she found a new
mushroom ring, picking the fattest or the most colourful specimens
with nimble fingers. Their baskets were growing heavy with gathered
produce when Ynara began to speak of returning home.

‘
Not
yet, Mamma, just a little bit longer!’ Llandry loved these
excursions, loved the hours they spent in close companionship, just
her and Mamma. She gazed up into her mother’s face with her most
hopeful smile, and of course Mamma relented.

‘
All
right, little love, but don’t pick too many more mushrooms, or
we’ll never be able to carry them home.’ Llandry promised and was
off once more, her small form a whirlwind of activity.

Then a faint
melody reached her ears and she came to an abrupt stop, her keen
eyes searching the mossy slopes for the source.

‘
Ma,
what’s that sound?’

‘
What
sound, love?’ Llandry looked up to find nothing but incomprehension
in Mamma’s face. She frowned and dismissed the thought, dancing
onward once more.

There; again, a
hint of music. Not a sound at all, in fact, more of a feeling of
spiralling harmony, drawing her onward through the vast, pale
trunks dotted like serene guardians over the meadow. In the shade
of a particularly broad-capped glissenwol tree was a glade
encircled by tall, variegated fungi. The mosses that carpeted the
circle of ground were not of the customary colour. Instead of the
deep blue that matched the eventide sky, these were lavender
touched with green. Golden sunlight drenched the clearing, bright
and glittering in spite of the glissenwol cap that rose above. And
the drifting motes of light that filled the air of Glinnery were
thickly clustered here, twinkling far more brightly than their
paler cousins, sparking with energy and laced with colour. Llandry
stood, mesmerised by this scene. She was distantly aware of her
mother’s voice calling her name, but she was unable to
answer.

The thin sound of
an animal in distress reached her sensitive ears. Something moved
in the centre of the glittering circle: she saw a flash of grey,
heard the faint wail of unhappiness repeated.

Mamma had caught
up with her. Llandry was aware of her footsteps approaching, then
halting a short distance behind her. She could imagine her mother’s
reaction to this place; she must be filled with wonder and delight,
just as Llandry had been. She was surprised, then, to hear a note
of horror creep into Ynara’s voice as she called.

‘
Llandry! Llandry, stop there. Don’t move, love.’ The footsteps
approached, and Mamma’s arms closed around her. To her dismay and
confusion, she was lifted and carried backwards.

‘
No!
Mamma, there’s an animal, don’t you hear it? It’s hurt.’ The
movements of the mysterious creature had ceased, but now Llandry
saw it again: a small body, long and thin, with sleek, pale grey
fur. She struggled out of her mother’s arms and ran
forward.

When she stepped
into the circle, she felt the golden light bathing her skin as if
it was a physical thing, like water. The effect was beautiful,
soothing and warm, but not wholly pleasant, for a feeling of
tension hung heavy in the air and Llandry’s skin prickled with
unease. For a moment she forgot about the sleek-furred creature,
but another squeak of distress drew her eyes downward into the
centre of the strange lavender-hued moss.

The animal stood
on short, shaking legs, its pointed face lifted to the winds as it
keened in despair. It was so small, so obviously feeble, that
Llandry quickly realised it must be a baby. A baby without its
mother. She picked it up, carefully cradling it against her
chest.

She turned to
show it to Mamma, but Mamma was gone, hidden behind a curtain of
light that had fallen between her and the familiar glissenwol
forests of home. It was like a wall of rain, cold and shimmering
pale; she could see nothing beyond it.

‘
Mamma?’ Fear stole her voice and the word emerged as a
whisper. She screamed her mother’s name and heard an answering
call, thin and distant as if Ynara stood on a hilltop far
away.

Llandry ran
towards the curtain and tried to pass, but it was like walking
through treacle; a strong pressure beat upon her limbs and her
face, threatening to smother her. She fell back,
sobbing.

Then the curtain
rippled and pulsed, as if struggling against something. Ynara broke
through the wall, her face pale and her eyes sparking with anger
and fear. She picked Llandry up and marched back through. The
sensation of suffocation was the same as before, and it grew worse
as Ynara bore forward with Llandry in her arms. The pressure
intensified until Llandry thought she must explode like rotten
fruit. Then they were through the curtain. All of the strange
sensations, good and bad, faded and Llandry was herself
again.

Ynara did not
stop. She marched onward without looking back. Llandry could feel
her mother’s body shaking; her arms were trembling so badly that
Llandry feared she would drop her. She pressed her face against her
mother’s and kissed her cheek.

‘
Ma,’
she whispered. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘
You’re safe. That’s all that matters.’

‘
What
was that place?’

‘
The
Upper Realm.’

‘
What’s that?’

Ynara sighed and
stopped at last, easing Llandry down to the floor. She frowned in
puzzlement at the little soft-furred body Llandry still held in her
arms, quiet now and questing through Llandry’s clothing for
food.

‘
It’s
called the Dreamlands, sometimes, because it’s like a dream, isn’t
it? It’s another place, far from here, beyond the Seven Realms that
make up our world. Sometimes a gate is opened and you can pass
through. What we saw was a gate. The Upper Realm is beautiful
beyond belief, love, but you must remember that it is
dangerous.’

Llandry
remembered the feelings she’d experienced as she stood in that
glittering glade; the way the light had caressed her skin and the
dancing motes clustered around her as if she was a friend. ‘How can
it be dangerous, Mamma?’

‘
There
are dangers everywhere, love, and the Upper Realm is no different.
But beyond that, there is something else. It is too beautiful a
place, perhaps, too enticing; people go there, from time to time,
but they very rarely return. Now, promise me you will not do such a
thing again. Promise me, Llandry.’ Mamma dropped to her knees to
bring her face level with Llandry’s. Her eyes were serious, and
Llandry sensed renewed fear in the way her mother clasped her
close.

‘
I
promise, Ma.’

‘
Good.
Now, who is your new friend?’

The creature had
begun to shiver. Llandry showed it to her Mamma, who smiled in
spite of herself.

‘
Gracious. It’s an orting, love. It must have come through the
gate.’ She stroked the orting’s round black nose and it shivered
anew, this time with apparent delight.

‘
May I
keep it?’

‘
We’ll
see. Now, are you ready to fly?’

Llandry unfurled
her growing wings and flexed them. At nine, she was big enough and
strong enough to fly for a few miles at a time. She smiled at her
mother and nodded.

‘
Time
to go home, then; Papa will be worried about us by now.’ Mamma was
wearing a coloured sash around her waist, as she often did; she
removed it, and wrapped it around Llandry’s torso, fashioning a
sling. She smiled fondly at Llandry.

‘
I
used to carry you this way, when you were small.’ She took the
orting from Llandry’s arms and placed it gently inside the sling,
securing it with deft movements.

‘
Now
you may carry him home. He won’t fall.’

***

Papa was not at
home when they arrived, but his measured step was soon heard
climbing the stair that wound around the trunk of the lofty Sanfaer
home. He patted Llandry’s hair as he passed, and she shot up in
excitement and ran after him.

‘
Papa,
you must come and meet Sigwide!’

‘
Oh?
School friend?’

Her face darkened
at the word ‘school’. ‘No, Pa. He’s my new pet. Look!’

The orting had
been lovingly installed in his own box, padded with the best
blankets from Llandry’s bed. He had gone to sleep with his head
under the thickest of them, his stubby tail twitching as he
dreamed. Aysun Sanfaer tilted his head curiously, trying to get a
look at the creature.

‘
Sigwide is what you’ve called it?’

‘
Yes.
I chose it myself.’

‘
What
is it?’

‘
Ma
said it’s an orting.’

He said nothing
at all in response. Llandry looked up, puzzled. His face was set
and his eyes glittered with some fierce emotion that looked like
anger. Ynara came back into the room at that moment and went
straight to her husband.