Ghaelya sighed and bit back a useless retort. She sat on her haunches and ran a hand over the smooth skin of her scalp, wiping away tiny beads of sweat before they dripped into her eyes. Much as she regretted taking on a companion in her quest, she needed a guide to help speed her journey across the wilds of Akanul. She had no time to waste, Brindani seemed capable enough, but he claimed his friend Uthalion knew more than he about the lands beyond the Spur.
She used the moment’s rest to adjust her armor. In the gaps between the straps and armored protection, her sea foam green skin was cooled by the night air. Faint blue lines of energy traced the surface of her flesh in unique, serpentine patterns.
She traced the blue pattern on the back of her hand absently, proud of the watery element that marked her soul and her skin, though acutely aware as always of being an outsider, even among her own kind. In Airspur, elements of wind and storm took dominance among the majority of the genasi. She smiled slightly. She enjoyed being differentrebellious in her own waythough it had proven a hindrance, the night her sister, Tessaeril, had been taken.
Brindani waved to her, and they continued into the ravine, alert for signs of movement on either side. Strange beasts had been trailing them for days, always one step behind and gaining. Thankfully, they had seen no sign of the hounds’ masters, a group of strange monks calling themselves the Choir. Along with her sister, the Choir had disappeared from Airspur a tenday before, but had returned as mysteriously as they’d first appeared.
Howls sounded in the distance, and she tensed, a painful ache erupting in her temples at the sound of the hunting beasts. They were getting nearer, closing their circles and gaining momentum in the Spur rather than losing it. The pain subsided, but she feared its return. The beasts’ — baying voices burrowed into her thoughts and clawed at memories that seemed both false and familiar all at once, like an old dream or forgotten tune fighting to break free of her deeper mind.
Brindani stopped, frozen in place, and cocked his head to listen. Angry at her own distraction, Ghaelya drew her broadsword and eyed the edges of the ravine. Glancing at the half-elf, she found him staring at her intently, Though he didn’t say a word, his quiet nod spoke volumesafter all the miles they’d run and the difficult terrain they’d crossed, the beasts had finally caught up.
CHAPTER TWO
6 Mirtul, the Year of the Ageless One. (1479 DR) The Spur Forest, South of Airspur, Akanul
The creature stalked along the top of the ravine* sniffing loudly and whining — as if frustrated. Ghaelya knelt low, careful not to shift and draw the creature’s attention. Brindani followed suit and gestured to a curved hollow in the side of the long path, just hidden enough to keep them from sight. Ghaelya cursed the half-elf inwardly. She wanted to face the creature, indeed had hoped to be forced into doing so. She had no desire to hide in a ditch and wait it out.
But she had heard their howlsthere were too many for her to dispatch without the half-elf s help. She ran after him.
Before she crossed even half the distance, she heard the whisper of Brindani drawing his blade, and she smiled grimly. No more running.
Up ahead the ravine turned south, and it was there Ghaelya caught her first sight of the strange hound, pushing through the thick bushes and sending clods of dirt rolling into the ravine. Glittering eyes swiveled lidless in their sockets, shining in the dark. The shape of broad shoulders rose above a thickly muscled neck. It turned toward them and raised its head; moonlight trailed across its pale gray fur. It’s face, illuminated in the light of Selunfi, looked strangely human, as if someone’s face had been stretched over the creature’s blunt skull.
Ghaelya crouched low, poised to spring as the creature stalked forward, sniffing at the air and emitting a series of soft whimpers.
Brindani’s hand rested softly on hers. He was tense and ready to run or fight at a moment’s notice. She kept her other hand firmly on the hilt of her sword. Steel had been far more protective of her best interests than half- elves with good intentions.
The creature howled, the oddly melodious sound causing her to gasp in pain. She closed her eyes, fearing the pressure in her head might force them from their sockets before the beast’s voice trailed off. It was answered from far away by the rest of its, pack. She’d heard the longing and anger that hid behind its black eyes before, but the memory of it was slippery and lost in a haze of pain…
Or was it? In between the sharp spikes of agony, she could almost hear a wonderful singing, weaving in and out of her mind like a forgotten rhyme from childhood. It began to slip away, and she tried to grasp at it, to claim the song as her own”an irrational impulse that stunned her with its power.
The beast turned and loped off, disappearing into the woods.
The fading pain on Brindani’s face was obvious, as was the horrified wonder in his eyes. He turned to her and sheathed his blade.
“What in the Hells was that?” he whispered.
She shook her head, but the slight movement jarred loose the evasive memory, freeing it and the image of her sister to her conscious mind. Its appearance shocked her with its suddenness, and she spoke quickly, lest it slip away from her again.
“They are called the oenath, the Dreamers…”
The words felt alien on her tongue, but she could not deny them. She knew the truth in them as surely as she knew her own name.
— Brindani narrowed his eyes in curiosity. “You dreamed this?” he asked solemnly. He knew of her recent nightmares and placed more stock in them then she was yet ready to accept.
Sighing, she nodded, uncomfortable in his gaze and finding the idea of herself as some kind of oracle distasteful. There had been no place in her life for prophetic dreams or voices or even gods, and in the past she’d ridiculed those who claimed to be the sources of such things. Though Brindani had shown her nothing but the utmost respect, she found it hard to accept his assessment of her recent dreams as genuine.
“So we know what to call them! It does us no good now does it?” she said coldly.
“No, I suppose not,” he agreed, joining her on the path, “Let’s get out of this ravine and onto some higher ground so I can get my bearings.”
He took the lead, and she fell into step, grateful not to have his eyes on her back, as if watching her every move and gesture for signs or portents. She would have torn the dreams from her head were it possible, but they had proven honest, placing words and images in her mind of which she had no previous knowledge. Two nights before she’d spoken in her sleep, and Brindani had shaken her awake, agitated and fearful. She had no memory of the dream itself, but knew the word he had recognized. The following morning they had set out to find a guide to a place she’d dreamed but never heard ofa place called Tohrepur.
The Spur grew suddenly quiet as they neared the sloping rise out of the ravine, and moonlight guided them into a small clearing surrounded by tall, twisted trees. Broad leaves, semi-translucent and reflecting light, gave the forest a haunting quality that dazed her eyes momentarily. But the snapping of a single twig set her nerves on edge. Squinting through the half-light of the trees, she raised her blade. At her side, Brindani froze.
The beast, the dreamer, paused as their eyes met, its legs pulled under its barrel chest, ready to pounce. Slivers of moonlight illuminated the beast’s thin gray fur and the white skin beneath. Its face was shortangular and expressive, and utterly unlike a wolfs. There was an intelligence there that made her reassess the danger the creature represented. A low humming growl churned and rumbled through its thick neck as Ghaelya slowly circled to the left.
A night wind shook the leaves overhead, dappling the ground with disorienting moonlight. The creature’s growl rose and thundered in her head like a living thing, crawling through her thoughts and rooting in her fears. She blinked once, wincing at the pain of the noise, and found the beast already in the air, its teeth bared as it bore down on Brindani.
The half-elf sidestepped and slashed, barely scoring the dreamer’s thick skin before the beast landed and pursued its quick-footed prey. Ghaelya charged its back, slicing downward with her broadsword, eager to draw
