new-marked man.
He gathered all the bags from the separate rooms, keeping his mind busy with trivial matters so he wouldn’t think about things he would rather avoid. The key was quickly found and Joh unlocked from his cot cell. Then they all gathered in the parlor, shivering in their sleeping wear.
When they were situated to Kallista’s satisfaction, huddled together for warmth against the spring’s night chill—even Joh—she demanded the dream. Word by word, she pulled it from him, insisting on every detail, every nuance.
Finally, he had no more to give, and she sat back, frowning.
“I don’t like this.” Her fingers tracing lightly across Torchay’s shoulder made him shiver, but he knew her attention was elsewhere.
“Nor I,” Obed said.
“You think I do?” Torchay scowled across Kallista at his dark ilias. The man had used up nearly all the patience Torchay possessed, by the hurt he gave Kallista. And with the former lieutenant added to the mix, the strain would only get worse.
“You truly think this a dream of omen?” Obed shifted, as if to pull away.
Torchay clamped a hand on his wrist, holding him in place on Kallista’s other side. “I do.”
“So do I.” Kallista’s hand moved from Torchay’s shoulder to his bare knee. “And for you to be dreaming my dreams means that things are not right.”
“But your magic woke,” Joh said. “We all felt it.”
“It woke, yes, but…”
Torchay felt the faintest shiver of magic across his skin. Even before he’d been marked, he’d been able to tell when Kallista used magic, but this was different. Better. The magic quivered again and faded away.
“It’s sluggish,” she said. “Maybe because our ilian is separated. Maybe for other reasons. I don’t know. I can’t get it to rise. Not like it should.”
“What—” Joh fell silent without finishing. He obviously still considered himself a prisoner. And since Torchay considered him one as well, that was good.
“Ask, Joh.” Kallista leaned forward to see him past Torchay.
“What does it mean?”
“Demons,” Torchay said. “Felt like demons. Smelled like demons.”
“I think so,” Kallista agreed. “I wish I had dreamed it.”
“So do I.” Torchay shuddered. “I want no more of them.”
Kallista sifted through the dream details Torchay had given her, hunting meaning. Huddled between the warm bodies of her iliasti, she felt cold, a cold that she feared no amount of warm bodies could chase away. “The demon threatens Arikon,” she said. “It’s here in Adara, not across the sea.”
“It threatens us .” Torchay stilled her hand on his knee, pressing it flat beneath his hand. “It wasn’t some mass of humanity I was defending. It was you. It was the twins. And we need your magic to stop it.”
“You think I don’t know that?” She would have thrown herself to her feet to pace save for Torchay’s arms holding her back, Obed’s arms joining them. “I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how to bring it back. Belandra doesn’t know. Nobody knows.”
“Easy now, love.” Torchay kissed her forehead, offering comfort. “We’re in Arikon. Perhaps there’s something in the archives.”
“You don’t think Serysta Reinine has had scholars scouring the shelves since the girls were born?”
“We can ask. We’ll find a way. Somehow. It will happen. Your magic will return.”
Kallista nestled her cheek against Torchay’s chest, enjoying the feel of skin against skin, and sensed more than felt Obed’s withdrawal. Physically, he was present. Emotionally and otherwise—Kallista sighed.
“I can sense all of you through the links,” she said. “Before today, I couldn’t. It’s improved that much, at least.”
“Aye.” Torchay stood, lifting Kallista in his arms. “But now, you need to sleep. We all do.”
“Without any more dreams.” She meant to catch Obed’s arm, to bring him with them, intended to, but didn’t. He followed anyway as
He gathered all the bags from the separate rooms, keeping his mind busy with trivial matters so he wouldn’t think about things he would rather avoid. The key was quickly found and Joh unlocked from his cot cell. Then they all gathered in the parlor, shivering in their sleeping wear.
When they were situated to Kallista’s satisfaction, huddled together for warmth against the spring’s night chill—even Joh—she demanded the dream. Word by word, she pulled it from him, insisting on every detail, every nuance.
Finally, he had no more to give, and she sat back, frowning.
“I don’t like this.” Her fingers tracing lightly across Torchay’s shoulder made him shiver, but he knew her attention was elsewhere.
“Nor I,” Obed said.
“You think I do?” Torchay scowled across Kallista at his dark ilias. The man had used up nearly all the patience Torchay possessed, by the hurt he gave Kallista. And with the former lieutenant added to the mix, the strain would only get worse.
“You truly think this a dream of omen?” Obed shifted, as if to pull away.
Torchay clamped a hand on his wrist, holding him in place on Kallista’s other side. “I do.”
“So do I.” Kallista’s hand moved from Torchay’s shoulder to his bare knee. “And for you to be dreaming my dreams means that things are not right.”
“But your magic woke,” Joh said. “We all felt it.”
“It woke, yes, but…”
Torchay felt the faintest shiver of magic across his skin. Even before he’d been marked, he’d been able to tell when Kallista used magic, but this was different. Better. The magic quivered again and faded away.
“It’s sluggish,” she said. “Maybe because our ilian is separated. Maybe for other reasons. I don’t know. I can’t get it to rise. Not like it should.”
“What—” Joh fell silent without finishing. He obviously still considered himself a prisoner. And since Torchay considered him one as well, that was good.
“Ask, Joh.” Kallista leaned forward to see him past Torchay.
“What does it mean?”
“Demons,” Torchay said. “Felt like demons. Smelled like demons.”
“I think so,” Kallista agreed. “I wish I had dreamed it.”
“So do I.” Torchay shuddered. “I want no more of them.”
Kallista sifted through the dream details Torchay had given her, hunting meaning. Huddled between the warm bodies of her iliasti, she felt cold, a cold that she feared no amount of warm bodies could chase away. “The demon threatens Arikon,” she said. “It’s here in Adara, not across the sea.”
“It threatens us .” Torchay stilled her hand on his knee, pressing it flat beneath his hand. “It wasn’t some mass of humanity I was defending. It was you. It was the twins. And we need your magic to stop it.”
“You think I don’t know that?” She would have thrown herself to her feet to pace save for Torchay’s arms holding her back, Obed’s arms joining them. “I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how to bring it back. Belandra doesn’t know. Nobody knows.”
“Easy now, love.” Torchay kissed her forehead, offering comfort. “We’re in Arikon. Perhaps there’s something in the archives.”
“You don’t think Serysta Reinine has had scholars scouring the shelves since the girls were born?”
“We can ask. We’ll find a way. Somehow. It will happen. Your magic will return.”
Kallista nestled her cheek against Torchay’s chest, enjoying the feel of skin against skin, and sensed more than felt Obed’s withdrawal. Physically, he was present. Emotionally and otherwise—Kallista sighed.
“I can sense all of you through the links,” she said. “Before today, I couldn’t. It’s improved that much, at least.”
“Aye.” Torchay stood, lifting Kallista in his arms. “But now, you need to sleep. We all do.”
“Without any more dreams.” She meant to catch Obed’s arm, to bring him with them, intended to, but didn’t. He followed anyway as
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