Between by Kerry Schafer Page B

heat became as vivid as the light and sound. Her clothing scorched and smoked. Holes appeared in her sweatpants, her shirt, blackened at the edges. The fabric disintegrated and fell away. Naked, she kept moving forward, through the ever-growing light, vibration, and heat. Her skin glowed, tingled, but she felt no pain.
    At last, as though she had run into an invisible wall, she stumbled to a stop, both hands pressed over her eyes to shut out the blinding light.
    “Hail, Dreamshifter,” a voice said. “Stand up straight. Let me have a look at you.” There was none of the compulsion inherent in Jehenna’s commands, but Vivian found the idea of disobeying improbable and foolhardy.
    Her hands fell away from her eyes and she squared her shoulders and stood, naked, at the edge of a high-ceilinged chamber, perfectly round. Beginning at her feet, rising to a peak at the center, a heap of crystal spheres sent tendrils of light and color swirling into the room. These were also the source of the vibration, each one emitting a hum in a different key.
    Curled at the top of the pile in a sinuous tangle of legsand tail and wings, an enormous creature—the source of the heat as the globes were the source of light and sound. Crimson, carmine, vermillion, with golden-green eyes so large the pupils were taller than she.
    Dragon.
    Don’t look at the eyes.
A protective voice inside her head, memory maybe, warning.
    Laughter from the dragon. “It won’t make a difference, the looking or not looking. You can’t escape me, Dreamshifter. I am your destiny.”
    Vivian braced herself against the sensory overload, aware of a mind moving within her own. A silent battle waged between them as she resisted the intrusion, struggled for a way to shield her thoughts. The dragon snorted and spoke directly into her mind, soundless. “You waste your energy. Come—there is no need for words between us. Let me read you.”
    “No.” Her voice breathless from the effort, Vivian managed to speak out loud. Something about this small act of defiance closed a shield around her; she could feel the searching intelligence looking for a way in, skimming the surface but unable to dip deeper. Even the vibration and the heat receded, muted by an invisible barrier.
    “Hmmph.” The dragon’s eyes narrowed a little, like an offended cat. “So ineffective, the use of words. Imperfect. Imprecise. But if you insist.”
    Vivian ignored the comment, ignored the weakness in her knees and the hammering of her heart. “Why have you summoned me?”
    The dragon stretched out its long neck, head swinging from side to side. Again the questing mind moved against hers, but the boundary held. “You are a Dreamshifter. It is tradition that you should stand before me, once, at the beginning. How is it you do not know such a simple thing?”
    “My grandfather died suddenly. He had no time—”
    “Time, time. He had the time of all the worlds. What he wanted you to know, that he has told you.”
    This fit with the cryptic notes. What Vivian really wanted to know was why, but she didn’t think that question would get her anywhere. Instead she asked, “What are you?”
    Enormous wings unfurled at the question, diaphanous membrane, iridescent. They beat the air, creating a wind that threw Vivian to the floor of the cave, where she clung to the stone until it passed.
    “I am the Guardian, mortal. Even this, he did not tell you?”
    “I know only that I am now the Dreamshifter.”
    The Guardian opened her mouth, and again a gust of wind rushed over Vivian, this time scented with hot rock and steam. The exhalation pushed her backward; the inhale sucked her forward, closer than she wanted to be, scraping her bare skin on the stone floor of the cave.
    “Pah. You stink of sorcery.” The voice had a purring quality that sent shudders through Vivian’s body.
    “I’m not a sorcerer. Sorceress. Whatever—”
    “You’ve been touched by one.”
    She opened her mouth to deny this