Tarrian stared at him. A cold, grey, wolf's stare. ‘Live or die,’ he said simply.
'What the hell's that supposed to mean?’ Antyr's voice cracked into a squeak as his anger forced the question out.
'It means live or die,’ Tarrian repeated.
'You're not helping,’ Antyr said, dropping his head into his hands again.
Tarrian padded over to the window and jumped up to place his forepaws on the sill. ‘I can't,’ he said, peering curiously from side to side through the window. ‘Not yet. All this is from inside you. From somewhere deep in your human nature. I can feel your pain, but its cause is beyond anywhere I can reach. You'll have to deal with it yourself. All I can do is watch and be here. But what I said is true. You have to decide whether you want life or death. If death, then jump out of this window now, and I'll mourn you. If life, then don't, in which case your next decision is fight or surrender.'
Antyr shuddered as the wolf's cold logic broke over him. He looked up at him, silhouetted against the deepening dusk outside.
Then, slowly, he stood up and walked to the window to join him. Tarrian dropped down and backed away a little as he approached. After some awkward fiddling with the catch Antyr threw the window open and leaned forward on to the sill. Tarrian watched him, motionless.
The chilly late afternoon air struck cold on Antyr's still-damp face and he blew out a long breath that misted, paused, and then silently faded. Unlike his room of the previous night, this one did overlook the city, though little was to be seen of it in the encroaching darkness.
Nonetheless, it was not without splendour. Such of the spires, domes, towers and sweeping avenues of Ibris's ‘dazzling city’ as could be seen from this vantage were marked out, illuminated and shadowed by a myriad of mist-haloed torches and lamps, giving them an unexpectedly delicate, restful quality. As he watched, Antyr saw other, more distant lights springing to life. The Guild of Lamplighters conscientiously pursuing their allotted task, setting at bay each night's darkness with their lights. It gave him a sudden feeling of security.
Almost abruptly he realized that though he felt blasted and empty, he also felt alive, and free, and glad to be so. Tarrian had had to state the options but they had never really existed, as both of them knew.
He closed the window.
'So much for deciding the strategy,’ he said with a nervous smile. ‘Tactics, I fear, may present more of a problem.'
He returned to the couch and lay down again, though this time with some relish. It was the soldier's euphoria brought on by knowing that the battle would not now be fought until the morrow; that for the next hour or so he was immortal and immune to all his ills. He had known it before.
'Before the fear and the confusion return, let's talk,’ he said. ‘About who and how and why and about what we can do.'
Tarrian flopped down on the floor beside the couch and rested his head on his paws. ‘Who, how and why, we don't know,’ he said. ‘As to what we can do, we can look at what's happened and think about it and that will arm us for what happens next.'
'Perhaps,’ Antyr said.
'No,’ Tarrian said decisively. ‘It'll arm us definitely. Don't forget that whatever's happening, we've survived so far, despite being caught totally unprepared. And too, Ibris survived, by dint of his will, and Menedrion survived his first dream by dint of…’ He paused.
'By dint of what?’ Antyr said knowingly. ‘By dint of some strange intervention by some other … person … or power. It was a fair reproach he made. What do we make of that as masters of our trade, dog? As farriers and fletchers?'
Tarrian was pensive. ‘Nothing,’ he said after a moment. ‘We just note it and remember it, like everything else.'
Antyr nodded reflectively. ‘And what about me?’ he asked tentatively. ‘What's happened to me?'
He felt a sensation from Tarrian that he could only describe as a glow. Turning, he looked down at him, but the wolf was still lying stretched out with his head on his paws and his eyes half shut.
'What was that?’ he asked sharply.
'What?’ Tarrian replied.
'That,’ Antyr answered in mild exasperation, then, hesitantly, ‘that … glow.'
'Glow?’ said Tarrian with amused tolerance. ‘What are you talking about?'
'You know full well what I'm talking about,’ Antyr said, leaning up on one elbow. Then Tarrian's true feelings leaked through. ‘Ye gods, you're excited,’ Antyr exclaimed. ‘I'm being pursued by … demons … from god knows where, and you are excited…'
Tarrian chuckled. ‘Yes. Sorry,’ he said, insincerely. Antyr searched about for a suitably angry rebuke but the wolf's feelings welled up and dominated him.
Tarrian stood up and looked at him, his tail wagging. ‘Didn't you feel the way we went into Menedrion's Nexus, and the way we hunted, searched it?’ Briefly, Antyr was there again, amid the whirling splendour. ‘The clarity, the speed, the effortlessness,’ Tarrian declaimed. ‘How could I not be excited. How could
'Very easily,’ Antyr said. ‘Have you forgotten where it landed us? Or more correctly, me? In some strange place beyond … outside … the dream. Alone, separated from the dreamer and apart from you? It scared me witless, that's how I can't be excited.'
'But you survived,’ Tarrian said breathlessly. ‘You drew me to you, just as you did last night. You protected the dreamer and you routed your attackers.'
'But I don't know how!’ Antyr said in some anguish.
'It doesn't matter!’ Tarrian almost shouted. ‘It doesn't matter. You won. Both times. You won!'
'But…'
'No buts,’ Tarrian said. ‘You won. And, admittedly at no thanks to yourself, and god knows how, you're ten times the Dream Finder you were a mere day ago. It's as if these … attacks … have woken something in you. Prodded something into life that was drowning in doubt and ale.'
Antyr frowned. ‘But, but, but, but,’ he said starkly, refusing Tarrian's optimism.
Tarrian quietened a little. ‘Yes, all right,’ he conceded. ‘There's still more questions than answers, but we're not defenceless, Antyr. Even if we don't yet know where our … your … strength lies, it's still there when it's needed.'
Questions indeed, Antyr thought, as they surged around his mind. But they were all unanswerable and had become a meaningless circle. Somehow he brushed them aside and sat up. The euphoria was still there. He was still immortal for an hour or so.
'Well, we can't do anything now, anyway,’ he said. ‘We'll have to see what the night brings, and then, if we're spared, we'll go and see this … Nyriall … in the morning. One way or another we'll be wiser then, and another opinion won't go amiss. And you'll enjoy meeting another wolf, won't you?'
'Not necessarily,’ Tarrian said coldly.
Antyr did not pursue the matter.
'In the meantime what shall we do?’ he went on. ‘I don't know what time Menedrion will be retiring, but from what I've heard it'll be late. Or at least late before he goes to sleep.'
Tarrian stretched himself luxuriously. ‘I think food then our fee,’ he said. ‘That old moaner who let us in said to ring that bell if we wanted anything.'
A few minutes later, after receiving elaborate directions from the bewildered servant who had eventually answered their summons and who seemed to know nothing about their presence there, they were walking through the labyrinthine corridors of the palace again, in an attempt to find the Chancellor's office.
'I'd have preferred to have eaten first,’ Tarrian said.
'You heard the man,’ Antyr replied. ‘The Chancellor's office will be shut shortly. Make your choice, we either go to the refectory for a meal, and then wait another day for our fee. Another day for memories to fade,’ he added significantly. ‘Or wait a little for your food and get the money now.'
'All right, all right,’ Tarrian replied. ‘It's just that I haven't eaten for…'
'Ten minutes,’ Antyr said caustically.
Tarrian maintained a dignified silence for a moment, then he turned off down a flight of stairs. ‘Down here,’
