The Dreaming Hunt (52 page)

“What do you mean, unhealthy?” Raina queried.

“A taint I sense in that place. Like on my tongue a bad taste.”

Rynn asked Sha'Li with interest, “So you have the skill of your kind to sense the unnatural?”

“No such skill have lizardmen,” she answered.

“Not your race. Your tribe. Certain Tribe of the Moon members can sense things that go against the laws of nature.”

“Really?” Sha'Li asked. Chagrin passed through her eyes. Didn't like showing ignorance of her own faction, did she? He could imagine how awkward it would be not knowing one's own abilities.

They resumed their trek with Will taking a turn in the lead, which Eben privately enjoyed. Will tended to set a hard pace that made the girls complain but which made his own limbs feel energized. The afternoon aged, and still no sign of water appeared. Just more towering pines whose roots reached deep enough not to need streams to feed them.

By noon the next day, the situation was becoming dire. His throat was parched, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Everyone's lips cracked, and their voices roughened from lack of water. They stopped for a rest, and Eben flopped down on the ground, relieved to be in contact with the earth. It did not soothe his fluid-starved body, but it did soothe his spirit. There had to be water around somewhere. After all, they saw abundant wildlife as they hiked, and the land was covered with plant life.

His awareness flowed into the earth cradling his back and down into the ground. He felt layers of sand, clay, and gravel, and far beneath him, bedrock. He felt growing roots pushing into the soil and worms chewing their way slowly through it.

And moisture. He noticed dampness first. Eagerly, he followed the sensation deeper and off to his right. It became a seep and then a tiny rivulet of underground water. Where did it rise to the surface? He traced the tiny trickle intently …

There. Off to the east
. “I know where to find water!” He jumped up and moved in the right direction, following the feeling. Or maybe it was the smell of water he followed. Or maybe it was merely insanity brought on by acute dehydration.

Drat. He'd lost the trail. He stopped, dropped to his hands and knees, and dug his fingers into the ground. He closed his eyes and concentrated.
There
. He found the trickle more easily this time and jumped back to his feet. It took him maybe ten minutes of alternately moving and stopping to check his direction before he came upon a tiny seep in the ground. It was no more than a puddle nestled in a stand of knee-high grass, really. But it was wet.

He dropped to his knees beside it in relief and was joined by the other members of the party in doing the same.

“Is it drinkable?” Rynn asked, directing the question at Sha'Li.

“Aye,” she announced in relief.

“Fill the waterskins first and drink from those,” Rynn directed. “Less waste that way.” The advice was reasonable, but it did not prevent Eben from wanting to stick his face directly into the puddle and suck it dry.

Filling all six of their bone-dry waterskins emptied the seep of nearly half its water. But as they guzzled thirstily, it refilled. An underground spring must feed it, then.

Again and again they filled their waterskins and drank them empty until finally, they all had gorged themselves on the cold, sweet springwater. They filled every waterskin they had to capacity, and then Sha'Li cleared her throat.

“Possible is it that move away you all might? To wash, I desire, to end to this maddening itching.”

After a short discussion, they agreed to pitch camp near the seep for the night and let everyone take a turn bathing, even if only to sponge off the sweat and grime of the past few days.

When Eben's turn came, he stripped down under the sweet-smelling pine boughs and distant stars and used a cloth to wash and rinse. He soaped his hair and then poured a skin of water over it. The rinse was icy cold and stole his breath away, but he felt like a new man.

The others in the party seemed equally refreshed. Finally, when they all settled down to sleep around a merrily crackling pine fire, Sha'Li excused herself and slipped away in the dark. She would no doubt spend the night soaking as much of herself as she could fit into that puddle. She would give the local wildlife quite a scare when they came for a nocturnal drink.

Silence fell over their little camp, the fire glowing silently. From across the fire, Raina asked, “How did you know where to find that water, Eben?”

He frowned. “I suppose I sensed it. I was lying on the ground wishing to find water, and awareness of an underground stream was just there. I followed it until it rose to the surface.”

“Are you a dowser?” Rynn asked from his bedroll.

“Not that I know of.”

“The only people I know who can sense water from as far away as you did are dowsers. And good ones at that,” Rynn replied.

Him a dowser? He didn't even like water. It was high time and more that he went on a jann quest to find a source of elemental water energy and absorb it into his being, but he'd been putting it off for a while now. He'd mastered the other three elements but considered himself primarily connected to earth and stone energies. Shards of water energy felt strange to him. Foreign.

Rynn, who was bedded down next to him, rolled over to face him. The paxan spoke quietly. “When we were in the Merr cutter, you mentioned that you'd had a strange dream and wanted to talk to me about it when our situation calmed down. I haven't forgotten about it. Are you too tired to speak of it now?”

“No. I feel good. You?”

“I can go a number of days without sleep if need be,” Rynn replied.

Hmm. Paxan thing, perchance?

“Your dream?” Rynn prompted.

Right. His dream. Eben recalled the odd dreaming experience once more, surprised to realize it was as vivid in his mind's eye now as it had been the night he'd had it. “It started with a white fog. And voices. And then a tremendous horde of elementally aligned people being mustered into some sort of army—”

Eben realized he was describing his dream in excruciating detail and broke off his story. “Is this too much information?”

“Not at all,” Rynn replied smoothly. “Tell me everything you remember.”

Eben resumed his narrative, doing as the paxan asked. He concluded with, “It felt as if I was really there with my sister. Like she's still alive and trying to communicate with me from wherever she is.” He paused and then blurted, “Is that crazy?”

“Not at all. It sounds to me like you encountered a dreamer and not a phantasm of your sister.”

“What's the difference?”

“A dreamer is a real person, like you, experiencing a dream that has taken their spirit to the dream plane. You were a dreamer in your visit to the dream plane, for example. A phantasm is a creature of the dream plane who has taken on an aspect similar to a person from our mortal plane. They may take that shape for only a few minutes or hold the shape permanently.”

“Like a ghost?” Eben asked.

“Much more substantial than a ghost in the long-term cases. A phantasm who has held a form for a long time and taken on many aspects of the one they imitate can be indistinguishable from the real thing. They can also have most of the same skills and abilities.”

Will piped up from across the fire. “Which is to say a phantasm can kill you as quickly as their real version can.”

“Just so,” Rynn replied.

Eben frowned. “But you think I saw the real Marikeen—well, the dreaming version of her?”

“Sounds like it. The next time you wish to visit the dream plane, may I suggest you let me take you there? I can distinguish a dreamer from a phantasm easily.”

“Don't we go to the dream plane every time we dream?”

Rynn tilted his head to one side. “Technically, yes. But there are varying degrees of interaction with the dream plane. For example, Will and Raina physically walked onto the realm. They found a gate between planes and traveled from one to another. They were no longer on the mortal plane once they passed through the gate. Most people dream casually, and phantasms take fleeting forms shaped by those. The forms last only as long as the dream and then evaporate back into mist. Those are the dreams you may remember for a few seconds or minutes after you regain consciousness but forget when you fully wake.”

Eben nodded, familiar with the phenomenon.

“Then there are deeper dreams. The ones with significance. Perhaps you desperately wish to get a message to someone, or mayhap someone has an important message for you. I believe this may be what happened in your dream under the sea, Eben. It might have been Marikeen reaching out to you or you reaching out to her.”

“So how would you go with me into a dream?”

“You'll merely go to sleep, and I'll make the mental journey with you. Our bodies will stay here, asleep as usual.”

“And we can do this anytime?”

“Yes. Assuming I am not too exhausted to concentrate sufficiently.”

“Are you too exhausted now?”

“No.”

“Can we do this journey thing tonight? I'm very worried about my sister.”

“Done.” And with that, the paxan lay down and pulled his cloak over his shoulders.

“What are you doing?” Eben blurted.

“Waiting for you to go to sleep. Ignore me. Just go to sleep like you always do.”

Hah. Like that was going to happen now. Nonetheless, Eben closed his eyes and concentrated on falling asleep and finding Marikeen beyond the backs of his eyelids.

Nothing he did worked. He tossed and turned and fretted for what felt like hours. And all the while, Rynn lay beside him as still as death. The man might as well have been completely unconscious. It was maddening.

Surely, Rynn had given up on waiting for him hours ago. The paxan was probably lost in some dream of his own by now. Frustrated, Eben gave up trying to go to sleep and dream of his sister.

And, of course, that was when he drifted off. At first, Eben was aware of nothing. But then, the voices called to him again, beckoning him from his slumbers, Llyrando, Cyndra, Imogen, and Arcus.

The veil of the world gave way to the dreaming as the mists urged Eben forward. The same group of elementals stood upon a mound in a murky, black swamp that could only be Angor. And once again, a huge horde of elementally aligned mortals milled around them. If anything,the army had grown larger since last time he'd seen it. Upon the dark mound, the child was flanked by the Boki thane and the robed man with the elemental gauntlet.

From the west came the fire-touched, bringing offerings for the favor of the elemental lords and ladies. From the north came the stone-born, seeking to impress with their gifts of earth. From the south came the people of the winds, presenting trophies of the sky. All elemental nobles took their tribute from the treasures laid at their feet, all but Llyrando, for the east was silent.

“Bring forth your tribute that I may bestow my favor upon you,” called Llyrando, his words washing over the spirit of those before him. Yet none came forth. “Come now, do you not see the power we offer? Did you not hear the words we taught to Marikeen, the words of summoning? Did you not—”

The Crushing Wave did not finish before another shouted from a ledge far away, upon the Heaves. It was an ikonesti warrior wearing ice armor, yet it did not have the same iridescent hue as that of his lord whom Eben had seen the last time. In this warrior's hand was a spear of glowing ice.

“We do not take a knee in the Heaves, pretender. Llylandril is the Mother of the Bay, and you are but an echo, a dream of what once was. Your time is long past. Go and leave this place while you still have form.”

“What is this? You seek a duel with me? I, who ruled the raging rapids long before elves first touched Urth? I take no pleasure in laying you low, white one, but you shall feel my power.”

The ikonesti launched himself, sliding across the snow until he came to rest before the massive Llyrando. He declared loudly, “I am Kryth, Son of Winter, first Rime, born of the Long Snows. My people will know you for a false ancient when I take the heart of the wave.”

Llyrando looked upon the other elementals, and the gauntleted one nodded. “Your people will only know the folly of their first Rime.”

Battle was joined, Llyrando lashing out with his great arms while Kryth skated across the snow, striking the Crushing Wave with a strange ice deeply familiar to Eben. Since she was a little girl, Marikeen's first mark had begotten an inner light, identical to that present in the ice magic of this ikonesti.

The ice magic, which should have no effect upon the massive water elemental, was indeed freezing Llyrando. His arms grew ever more inflexible as Kryth assailed them with his ice bolts. The ikonesti closed the distance and launched his spear attacks. They, too, pierced the body of Llyrando, wounding the wave.

The elemental's cries seemed desperate, but Eben saw that while the attacks did harm Llyrando, he was baiting the ikonesti warrior. Llyrando pushed the waters of the swamp around, maneuvering Kryth to the perfect spot. What Kryth missed was that, as an elemental, Llyrando could channel power through any part of his body, including his legs.

Llyrando struck out with his foot, sweeping the young Rime from his feet and then pulling him in like a riptide. In a single moment, Llyrando's victory was assured as Kryth's spear flew away and the dark waters of the swamp bound him fast, preventing his baleful ice bolts.

“I shall make a brew with your blood, boy, to serve those who thought you my better,” Llyrando bellowed.

Eben summoned the power of wind to mind, making the sign with his hands, but before he could transform and dash to Kryth's side, a familiar hand touched his sign, stopping him. A massive spear with the glow of the ice warrior's armor pierced the bosom of Llyrando, holding him fast.