such big creatures.
“We must return to our training,” Juran said. As he and Mairae rode away, Auraya wondered what had happened to cause him to feel such obvious regret. Perhaps she would find out, one day.
There was so much she didn’t know about her fellow White. But there was plenty of time to learn about them. Maybe not all of eternity, but, as Dyara had said, close enough.
Five sat on benches within the communal room of the Bakers’ house. Another Dreamweaver, Olameer, had arrived that morning. She was a middle-aged Somreyan journeying south to gather herbs that would not grow in the colder climate of her homeland. Jayim had been quiet for most of the meal.
“Have you visited Somrey, Leiard?” Tanara asked.
Leiard frowned. “I am not sure. I have memories of it, but I do not recall where they fit into my past.”
Olameer looked at him closely. “They sound like link memories.”
“Probably,” Leiard agreed.
“But you are unsure,” Olameer stated. “Do you have other memories that you are not certain are yours?”
“Many,” he admitted.
“Forgive me, but what are link memories?” Tanara interrupted.
Olameer smiled. “Dreamweavers sometimes link minds in order to communicate concepts and memories to each other. It is quicker and easier to explain some things that way. We also occasionally use links as a part of our rituals and a way to get to know another person.” She looked at Leiard and her smile changed to a thoughtful frown. “We tend to accumulate memories that are not our own, but usually we can tell which are ours and which are not. If a memory is old, however, it is easier to forget that it was not ours. And in rare instances, where a Dreamweaver endures a traumatic event, his or her memories will mix with link memories.”
Leiard smiled. “I have not suffered such an event, Olameer.”
“None that you remember,” she replied softly.
He shrugged. “No.”
“Would you... would you like to perform a linking tonight? I could examine these link memories and try to find the identity behind them.”
Leiard nodded slowly. “Yes. It has been too long since I have performed the ritual.” He noticed Jayim staring at him and smiled. “And Jayim should join us. He has remained untrained since his teacher died six months ago.”
“Oh, don’t put yourselves out for me,” Jayim said hastily. “I’ll only... get in the way.”
Tanara stared at her son in surprise. “Jayim! You should take advantage of such a generous offer.”
Leiard looked at Olameer. Her expression was knowing.
“I can’t. I’m visiting a friend tonight,” Jayim told his mother.
Millo frowned at his son. “You did not mention this earlier. Are you planning to go alone? You know it’s dangerous.”
“I’ll be fine,” Jayim said. “It’s not far to Vin’s place.”
Tanara’s lips pressed together. “You can go in the morning.”
“But I promised,” Jayim protested. “He’s sick.”
Tanara’s eyebrows rose. “Again?”
“Yes. The breathing sickness. It gets worse in summer.”
“Then I had best go with you,” Leiard said. “I know many treatments for illnesses of the lungs.”
“Thank you, Leiard,” Tanara said. “That is kind of you.”
Jayim glanced from his mother to Leiard, then his shoulders slumped. Tanara stood and started gathering the dirty dishes. Olameer yawned delicately, then rose to help.
“Just as well,” she murmured. “I am probably too tired to be of any use to you, Leiard. I never sleep well on ships.”
He nodded. “Thank you for the offer. Perhaps another time?”
“I will be leaving in the early morning, but if you are here on my return we will perform the ritual then. In the meantime, be well.” She rose, then touched her heart, mouth and forehead. Leiard returned the gesture, and saw in the corner of his eye Jayim hastily following suit.
As Olameer left the room Leiard rose and looked expectantly at Jayim.
“What does your friend do for a living?”
The boy glanced up, then stood. “His father is a tailor, so he’s learning to be one too.”
“Will his family protest if I come to their house?”
Jayim hesitated, obviously considering this opportunity to be rid of Leiard, then shook his head.
“No. They won’t mind. My teacher helped them since Vin was a baby. That’s how I met him. I’ll just get my bag.”
Leiard waited as Jayim fetched a small bag from his room. Once outside, the boy set a rapid pace. The street was dark and quiet. The windows of the houses on either side were bright squares of light and Leiard could hear the sound of voices and movement inside.
“Why did you decide to become a Dreamweaver, Jayim?” Leiard asked quietly.
Jayim glanced at him, but it was too dark to read his expression.
“I don’t know. I liked Calem, my teacher. He made it sound so noble. I’d be helping people in ways the Circlians never can. And I hated the Circlians.”
“You no longer hate them, then?”
“I do, but...”
“But?”
“Not like I did then.”
“What has changed, do you think?”
Jayim sighed. “I don’t know.”
Sensing that the boy was thinking hard, Leiard remained silent. They turned into a narrower street.
“Maybe it isn’t all the Circlians I hate. Maybe it’s just a few of them.”
“Hate for a person is different than hate for a group of people. Usually it is harder to hate a group of people once you have realized you like an individual from that group.”
“Like Auraya?”
Leiard felt a strange thrill at the name. He had met with Auraya twice since her initial visit. They had talked of people they both knew in the village, and of events that had happened since she had left. She had told stories of her time as an initiate and then as a priestess. At one point she had admitted she was still surprised that the gods had chosen her. “I didn’t always agree with my fellow Circlians,” she had said. “I guess that’s your fault. If I had grown up in Jarime I’d probably have turned out as narrow-minded as everyone else.”
“Yes,” he said. “Auraya is different.”
“But it’s the other way around for me,” Jayim continued. “I can see now that I don’t hate all Circlians just because some of them are bad.”
“I... I’m having doubts, Leiard.”
Leiard dragged his attention back to the boy at his side.
“About?”
Jayim sighed. “Being a Dreamweaver. I’m not sure I want to anymore.”
“I guessed as much.”
“What do you think I should do?”
Leiard smiled. “What do you want?”
