Moons' Dreaming (Children of the Rock) (26 page)

Jenil sat back and nodded at Savyea and Morb.
“
King Sene. It
’
s past time I have a word with him.
”

Savyea did not look completely satisfied.
“
Remember, it must be the right Shaper and Keeper couples.
”

“
There isn
’
t just one choice,
”
Morb argued.

“
Perhaps not, but there is a best choice.
”

“
I don
’
t care about choices,
”
Jenil told them.
“
All I ask is a chance.
”

“
The gods have given us that,
”
Morb said.
“
If we stop wasting it, we can make the prophecy come true.
”

* * *

Jenil
’
s interview with Sene took less than an hour. As Aage had suggested, the Sitrinian king was perfectly willing, even eager, to locate Hion
’
s daughter for her. Discussion of the princess led inexorably to the subject of Sene
’
s children and their readiness for marriage. This time, Sene
’
s cooperative response put the burden for action back in Jenil
’
s lap.

The sun hung low in the west when Jenil stepped through the web and took solid form in the front garden of her home. Feather rose quickly from the herb bed, clippers in hand, and brushed the dirt off the front of her skirt.
“
Greenmother! I wasn
’
t expecting you!
”

No excuse to put the announcement off for even a night.
“
Come inside, child. We need to talk.
”

Feather
’
s eyebrows arched upward, but she followed Jenil to their shared rooms without argument. Jenil loosened the belt of her robe and sank gratefully into a chair, glad to be off her feet, glad that the girl had been here waiting for her. How many times had she begun this conversation, over the years, only to have to stop because of the child
’
s distress? Well, Feather was older now, stronger
—
and there was no more time to waste.

Feather went to a side table and poured water from a glazed earthenware jug into a cup. Jenil studied the girl.
What is she now, fifteen, or sixteen? I
’
m no Redmother to remember every little detail of every life I encounter. Sixteen, I think, though she hasn
’
t grown a bit since she was ten. A lively, pretty child she always was, too. Full of vinegar, and too clever by half, with a tongue like a razor. A little thing like her shouldn
’
t be such a handful. Imagine, she thinks she wants to spend her life surrounded by the peace and unchanging atmosphere of Garden Vale. A quiet life doesn
’
t suit you, my Feather, whatever you might believe.
Jenil accepted the water from her ward and drank, eyes lowered to gather her thoughts.
Feathers are supposed to be soft and pliable. By that definition, my girl, you
’
ll never live down to your name.

After handing back the empty cup, Jenil folded her hands in her lap and met Feather
’
s gaze.
“
Your parents were from Sitrine, you know. They died of the plague when you were four.
”

The girl
’
s dark eyes grew wide.
“
No, I didn
’
t know.
”
She sat cross-legged at Jenil
’
s feet, her expression a mixture of curiosity and wariness.
“
Sitrine?
”

“
In the village of Telina. Your parents were Rish and Alonora. Plague struck the village, and they died. Everyone died.
”

Feather listened carefully, head tilted to one side.
“
I was four? Shouldn
’
t I remember some of this if I was that old?
”

“
There
’
s a very good reason you don
’
t remember.
”
Jenil controlled her dread as memories of the rotting bodies and empty homes of Telina rose in her mind.
“
You were the only one left alive when King Sene, Gavea, and I arrived. One very young, very frightened, child. You used to have terrible nightmares. The older you grew the worse they became. Eventually you refused to sleep. So I thought it best to take the memories away. The dreams stopped. I suspect some of the memories will come back when you return to Sitrine.
”

“
Ah.
”
The girl
’
s eye narrowed with suspicion. She showed no sign of recognizing any personal significance in Jenil
’
s tale. Considering what awaited her in Raisal, an objective reaction might serve her better than the terror that had once paralyzed her at the mere mention of her parents
’
names.
“
And why should I return to Sitrine, Greenmother?
”

“
I
’
m getting to it, child.
”
Jenil leaned forward and ran one soothing hand over the girl
’
s fine hair. It wasn
’
t necessary for Filanora to have grown up pretty, but Jenil was glad she had.
“
When word of the plague reached Raisal, King Sene decided he couldn
’
t abandon your village to its fate. He risked catching the plague himself to try to bring your people some help. Gavea and I went the way of Dreamers, and he followed, driving a great wagon full of supplies. We were too late. I had already gone by the time he arrived. But Gavea had stayed, with one frightened but healthy little girl. The king took you home, to live with him.
”
Later, Sene had confided wryly that it was an interesting journey.
“
Once in Raisal, you took a liking to Gavea and Aage, got along very well with the king
’
s twins, and followed Sene everywhere. But the dreams kept getting worse and worse. You were ten years old when I brought you here to heal you. You said you wanted to become a Brown or Redmother, so here you
’
ve stayed. It
’
s a wonder Sene hasn
’
t asked for your return before now. He was always fond of you.
”

Feather looked skeptical.
“
A Shaper fond of an orphan Keeper child? What
’
s this really about, Jenil?
”

“
You are betrothed to Prince Chasa. You have been since you were both very young. You are to fulfill Aage
’
s prophecy.
”

“
Oh, nonsense,
”
Feather shot back angrily. She sprang to her feet and began to pace, her shadow on the wall far larger than she was. After a few quick turns around Jenil
’
s cluttered room she turned back to the Greenmother. When she spoke her voice held as much sadness as it did anger.
“
The dreaming
’
s over. Yours is the last generation. The Shapers won
’
t allow you to exist anymore. If I
’
ve learned anything from all those times you
’
ve dragged me to Edian, it
’
s that Shapers rule, Keepers do as we
’
re told
…
and Dreamers die. That
’
s the world we live in. It
’
s the world the plague gave us. I have no intention of mating with any king
’
s son for the sake of a dead dream.
”

Jenil flew to her feet without bothering to let her muscles do the work of standing. Feather blinked and backed a step as the Greenmother glared at her with all the power the gods had given her in the look.
“
We
’
re not done yet, girl,
”
she declared.
“
We are the life of this world! King Sene, and Gavea the Great
—
and I
—
chose you to be a mother of Dreamers. You
’
ve been honored, and don
’
t you forget it!
”

Even as she spoke, Jenil knew her outburst was useless. She resumed her seat as rebellion hardened in her student
’
s black eyes. Feather was not going to be ordered, bullied, or awed into anything. Of course not. She wouldn
’
t be Feather
—
Sene
’
s Feather
—
without a strong mind and will of her own.

It was going to be another interesting journey.

“
Spring festival will be here before we know it.
”
King Sene rubbed his hands together.
“
I can hardly wait.
”

“
You
’
ve said that every year since you were a boy,
”
Aage replied. He leaned against the verandah railing, elbows back, legs stretched out before him, one ankle crossed lazily over the other.

“
So I have, Great-great Uncle,
”
Sene agreed. He went from rubbing his hands to rubbing his bald head.
“
Why is it I
’
ve lost my hair, while an old man like you just gets more of it?
”

“
Because he
’
s vain,
”
Jeyn answered for the Dreamer. She leaned beside Aage, a gentle breeze tugged at their matching tow-colored locks.

“
I see. What about my vanity?
”
Sene demanded of Aage.
“
Can
’
t you use a bit of dragon ear powder on my head?
”

“
Only if you really want it to shrink, Nephew.
”

Jeyn giggled. Sene abandoned his mock-scowl and joined them at the railing.
“
I hope we
’
ll have fine weather for Festival. You
’
re magic
’
s good enough for that, I trust?
”

“
Jeyn wouldn
’
t let me into the feast if it wasn
’
t.
”

“
You
’
d deserve to stand out in the rain, wouldn
’
t you?
”
Jeyn teased him. She turned her head and sniffed loudly.
“
Cinnamon.
”

Sene watched the pair of them. As much as Jeyn had tried the patience of many of her tutors over the years, she never seemed to annoy the wizard
—
and the wizard never seemed to annoy her. Aage annoyed almost everyone else. Despite appearances, he was very old, and had lived his long life during unpleasant times. He was a good counselor when Sene needed a counselor, and always took care of wind demons or other weather matters promptly. But few Keepers in Sitrine knew him, and Sene
’
s relatives couldn
’
t stand him. Most of Sene
’
s relatives. His daughter appreciated Aage. Between Aage and Jeyn, the appreciation had long sinc
e mellowed into something more.
With Jeyn, Aage became relaxed. Happy. In fact, a rather nice person.

“
What?
”
the rather nice person demanded, staring haughtily down at her impish face.

“
Cinnamon,
”
she repeated.
“
You smell of apple. I
’
m always tempted to sprinkle you with cinnamon.
”

“
Don
’
t,
”
he suggested.

“
There is a feast coming,
”
she reminded him.
“
You can be dessert if it rains.
”