Sword of Dreams (The Reforged Trilogy) (29 page)

Three people were just not enough to keep two sites guarded at all times, especially when Duaal was the third. Between his debilitating headaches and Tiberius' unwillingness to let him work during the dangerous nights, the mage was almost no help. Ava and Darius provided some relief, but not enough.

Maeve shook herself and realized that she had lost her place in the song again. It was getting harder and harder to stay awake. A shadow passed over the sun and covered the camp in shadow. There had been a few white lines of clouds early that morning, but had grown thicker over the course of the day until they shaded most of the mountain. Only a couple of patches of sunlight still sparkled off the frost.

If this expedition was going to take much longer, Maeve would have to convince Xen and Kemmer to hire some more protection. Tiberius had received a few calls from Captain Cerro, but nothing to indicate that the mountains had become any safer. The updates seemed only to serve to keep the lines of communication open, in case one party could find a way to better help the other.

Maeve scrubbed at her dry, aching eyes with the heels of her hands. When she opened them again, she found Gripper climbing the rocks beneath her. He clambered up over the edge of the outcropping and plopped down beside Maeve.

She had just been about to ask him if he was supposed to relieve her to go get dinner – it should have been Tiberius' job, but Maeve had not seen the old man all day – then stopped. There were tiny blue petals stuck to Gripper's furry arms.

"Did you give Xia the flowers you collected?" Maeve guessed.

Gripper leaned against her, almost toppling the much smaller fairy. "Yeah," he whispered.

"Did she take them?"

"Yeah."

"What upsets you so much?" Maeve asked. "Your gift was accepted!"

Gripper groaned and flopped back onto the ground. He waved his long arms in the air. They cast no shadows in the dim, diffused light sifting through the thickening clouds. Something else soft and pale was gathering in his green fur. It was beginning to snow.

"Silver took them, but then she started talking about their genes!" Gripper cried. "She said that there was more radiation up here and stuff…"

Maeve furrowed her brow. Whatever Phillip was cooking still smelled good, tempting. But if Gripper climbed all the way up here to talk, she could put off dinner a little longer.

"Is that not true?" Maeve asked. "Did your gift offend her?"

"I don't know, but if… if she can't even look at some flowers without seeing the weird genes, what does she see when she looks at me?"

Maeve had no idea what to say to that. She was certain there was nothing wrong with Gripper's genetics, but they
were
alien. Maeve could only imagine the outrage if a coreworlder tried to marry into an Arcadian noble house. The lineages were cared for and cultivated like the elaborate gardens of the
Sua'ii Na
, the Blooming House. To the Ixthians, all bloodlines deserved such protection.

"You are worthy of Xia's love," Maeve said at last, "even if you never win it."

Gripped looked over at her. "Thanks, I guess…"

They sat together in silence for a long time, until the needs of Maeve's body finally made her reluctantly ask the unhappy Arboran to keep watch until she could return. He sat up and nodded.

Maeve spread her wings and leapt from the outcropping. It would have felt good to fly a little more, but the wind was like icy needles between her feathers. After a visit to the latrines that helped her mood even more than flying, she landed in the ring of heat lamps. Phillip was the only one there, carrying a canister toward one of the glowing tents. He waved when he saw Maeve.

"The weather's turning pretty cold," he said. "Dinner's inside tonight."

Maeve thanked him and followed the geologist into the large central tent. Most of the equipment had been cleared away and plates set out for dinner. It was a little crowded, but pleasantly warm after a long afternoon out in the elements. Maeve paused in the doorway.

"Where is Tiberius?" she asked.

Phillip set the container down on a table and unscrewed the lid. It was filled with mashed potatoes. "The captain's outside, watching."

"Why? He always joins you for meals."

"He says that a big storm is coming. The snow's really going to come down tonight. Good cover for anyone who wants to break into camp."

Maeve shook her head. If the snow was going to be that thick, then Tiberius would not be able to see anyone coming. But the old man was nothing if not stiff-necked and stubborn. She collected a plate of food for herself and another for Tiberius.

Panna excused herself from the archeologists' table as Maeve headed for the exit. "Wait," she said.

Maeve waited. What did the girl want?

"Are you going back out there?" Panna asked.

"Yes."

The young archeologist hesitated, rolling the hem of her shirt between nervous fingers. "You've been watching the dig all afternoon. Are you going to be out there all night, too?"

"I am. Duaal is not permitted nighttime watches. Why do you ask?" Maeve asked suspiciously.

"Well, I…" It was not like composed and personable Panna to falter like this. "I thought that I could help out tonight, if you want."

Maeve's brow furrowed in surprise. "Do your daily duties fail to hold your interest? Why would you volunteer for this?"

Panna blushed. "I just want to help. Please."

There was something in the way she asked it, as though Maeve would be doing her a favor by accepting. Maeve looked over at Xen and Kemmer. The archeologists were diagramming something on the tabletop, using biscuit crumbs and gravy to draw it out. Phillip had joined them and was shyly flirting with Ava. On her other side, Darius teased his sister until she punched him in the arm.

"We could use your help," Maeve agreed slowly. "Come speak to Tiberius about contributing."

Panna colored again, but a bright smile lit up her pretty face. She carried one of the plates Maeve had prepared and the two women ventured back out into the twilight. The snow swirled through the darkening evening in large, fluffy flakes. There were no stars in the sky, and Maeve could only barely distinguish the dim light of a single lumpy moon.

Tiberius sat in the lee of the Blue Phoenix teams' tent, huddled in a heated blanket. Orphia perched on his knee with her feathery head tucked under one silvery fold. Both master and hawk looked up at the women's approach. Tiberius shined a flashlight at Maeve and Panna.

"What are you doing over here, doves?" he asked, gruff but not angry. Simply curious.

"We brought you some dinner," Maeve answered.

Panna handed the plate to Tiberius. He flipped out a small stand on the flashlight and set it down on a flat rock. No longer blinded by the light, Maeve could see how tired Tiberius looked. His cheeks were scruffy as ever, but they looked hollow under his bristly beard and there were dark circles under his eyes. When Tiberius took the food, he raised his bushy brows at Panna.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked her.

"She would like to help us tonight," Maeve said. Panna nodded.

"Absolutely not," Tiberius said at once.

"Please, Captain Myles," said Panna. "You and Maeve have been up for a week with hardly any sleep. And Xia told me that you've been on since about noon today."

Maeve had not heard that. "Is this so?" she asked.

"Yes. Duaal had another one of his headaches," Tiberius grunted.

"You have been working too long."

"I'm fine, dove."

"You are not," Maeve said as sternly as she could. As first mate of the Blue Phoenix, she had some authority, didn't she? "You are overtaxing yourself. You must accept Panna's help tonight."

Tiberius scowled deeply and turned an alarming shade of red. Maeve was wondering if she should get Xia when he finally answered. "Fine. But just for a few hours, Panna. I don't want you exhausted at work tomorrow."

Panna nodded. "That's fair, Captain Myles. What about Maeve?"

"I will survive the night," Maeve said. "But I will be glad to accept your help tomorrow."

Panna's expression was uncertain, but she did not argue. She looked between Maeve and Tiberius. "Why don't I come out here at about four? I can get about five hours of sleep before that and be fine tomorrow."

"All right," Tiberius said. "Go to your tent then. I'll see you again later tonight."

The old Prian pulled his scarf tight around his neck and settled down for dinner. Panna waved nervously at Maeve and then vanished through the swirling snow in the direction of the Tynerion tents. Maeve bade Tiberius a good night, and then flew through the snow back to her post.

Gripper had turned on the yellow-striped spotlight and sat beneath it, idly inspecting the generator. He had the access panel open and picked at the wiring, muttering to himself. The Arboran started and almost overturned the light as Maeve emerged from the snow.

"There you are! I was getting worried." He gestured to the lamp. "I got it started for you. It's getting pretty frozen out here."

"I am prepared," Maeve said. She took her own heated blanket from her pocket and shook it out. "You should go to your supper now."

"Do you want me to stay? I could cover you for a few hours."

"I will be fine. Besides, it is cold and this will not cover you," Maeve pointed out as she pulled the shiny blanket around her shoulders. "Panna will be assuming a part of my watch tomorrow night."

It was hard to tell in the dark and falling snow, but Gripper looked surprised. "Panna? Really? I thought she didn't like you."

"So I believed, as well. But I suppose that only makes her offer all the more appreciated."

"How come she isn't going to help out now?" Gripper asked. The Arboran's teeth chattered loudly.

"She will be relieving Tiberius tonight, who has been working overlong because of Duaal's headaches." Maeve swept a thin layer of snow from the base of the spotlight and set her meal down. "I have my dinner, Gripper. Return to camp. I will survive the night and I will see you tomorrow."

Her friend offered a few more weak arguments, but finally climbed back down to the base camp. Maeve cinched the blanket tighter around her. It was just big enough to wrap around her wings if she kept them very close to her back. But the discomfort of her tightly folded limbs was far less than that of the cutting cold.

Dinner was cold by the time Maeve managed to get at all comfortable. She considered putting the plate up on the spotlight for a few minutes – a trick she had learned after the first few frozen nights – but decided against it. Freeing her arms enough to reposition the light meant unwrapping the blanket and cold food was far better than cold skin.

The storm was picking up speed, whipping the snow into swirling flurries. Every bite of food came with a mouthful of wind-tossed black hair. Maeve spluttered and spat, but was surprised by her own good mood. She was tired and cold, but it was nice to have work again, to be earning her own keep. And Panna actually wanted to help with the protection of the Waygate and the camp.

The Waygate… Maeve finished her dinner and wedged the plate under the lamp to keep it from flying away in the rising wind. She could not even begin to guess what the Waygate's presence on Prianus might mean for the core. What could it mean for the Arcadians? It had been a hundred years since the fall of the White Kingdom. The Devourers were gone. It was too expensive to take the fairies home by ship, but what if they could simply step through the Pylos Waygate and return to the White Kingdom?

Perhaps we would no longer be the cast-away refugees hated by the Alliance. No longer homeless. No longer broken…

Broken. Maeve remembered what she had told Tiberius. Even if the Arcadians could return home, their worlds were in ruins. The dryads and nyads – the races that had served their winged masters since Cavain's time – were gone. The Arcadians were a tiny fraction of their former numbers. Numbers which, Maeve admitted silently, were never vast when compared to the trillions that lived in the CWA.

But it was something, a thin ray of hope where none had existed before. Perhaps Xen and Kemmer's work would serve more than the academics on Tynerion. Did they guess that they might save the Arcadian people? Did they care? Maeve doubted it, but even that could not spoil her good mood.

She had to shake the blanket hard to dislodge the layer of ice forming on it. Snow landed on the plastic, melted in the heat and then refroze when the wind chilled it again.

Maeve squinted. The glow of her single light bounced uselessly off the snow, surrounding her in an unbroken wall of bright white. It was almost like being in one of the meditation cells of the Morningfire Court. There were few other places on an Arcadian world not open to the wind and sky.

How many hours had she spent in those little white rooms, deep in daydreams? How many more spent stealing away with Orthain to tug one another out of their glass armor and feel skin against skin? Or just to find a quiet place to talk to Caith about his studies as he struggled through classes at the Ivory Spire?

Maeve shifted her numb backside on the stone beneath her, making the plastic blanket rustle like leaves in the wind. How long since she had been able to think back to her home with anything like joy? It seemed like lifetimes.