The Last of the Wilds

ultimately the right thing to do. She would save the souls of people who otherwise turned from the gods. It just seemed too... too sneaky.

After the meeting at the Altar she had decided she’d better find out if any healer priests and priestesses were willing to work with Dreamweavers before approaching Dreamweaver Adviser Raeli. She had told herself she was being efficient - she could ask if any were willing to travel to Si at the same time - but she knew she was putting off the moment when she would have to start being sneaky.

Several volunteers had come forward. She had been expecting enthusiasm for the post in Si, but had been pleasantly surprised by the numbers interested in working with Dreamweavers. All had been impressed and humbled by what they had seen in the aftermath of the battle. Many were eager to learn from Dreamweavers, though for some it was out of a determination to match or surpass the heathens in knowledge and skill rather than because of any newfound respect for the cult.

She had delayed further by finding a location for them to work in. It needed to be a place where neither Dreamweavers nor Circlians had greater influence. She had found a disused storeroom near the docks, not too far from the edge of the poor area of the city. She had only to arrange for the building to be cleaned up and appropriately furnished and stocked, and decide what to call it.

Before then, however, she needed an answer from the Dreamweavers. Unable to put it off any longer, she had arranged to meet with Raeli.

Auraya rolled onto her side. She was wide awake now and doubted she’d get to sleep again for hours. Her heart was no longer pounding but it was still beating a little too fast.

She thought of the question she had asked Juran. “What of the whole range of mind-healing skills - of mind links and dream links?” He obviously did not like the idea of priests and priestesses learning those skills, but if Circlians were to replace Dreamweavers they would have to adopt all the heathens’ practices.

She sighed. The nightmares she was having were proof of the need to have priests and priestesses learn dream-healing skills. She could understand why any ordinary man or woman would seek a Dreamweaver’s help in stopping dreams like these.

Perhaps I should seek a Dreamweaver’s help. I’m supposed to be convincing people they’re harmless. What would convince them more than if I used their dream-healing services?

She could not see Juran approving of a White allowing a Dreamweaver into her mind - or even an ordinary priest or priestess exploring her thoughts and discovering their secrets.

Perhaps if she watched the mind of a Dreamweaver performing a dream healing on another person she would learn the knack of it... and be able to pass the knowledge on to one of the other White... and they could...

Her thoughts drifted. She was talking to Mairae, but it was nonsense. The other White kept laughing and saying they didn’t understand. Frustrated, Auraya stepped out of the window to fly away, but she couldn’t quite control her movements. A wind kept blowing her sideways. She floated into a cloud and was surrounded by a chill whiteness.

Out of that whiteness appeared a glowing figure. She felt her heart lighten. Chaia smiled and moved closer. His face was so clear. She could see every eyelash.

My dreams are never this vivid...

He leaned forward to kiss her.

... or this interesting.

His lips met hers. It was no chaste, affectionate brush of magic. She felt his touch as if he were real.

Suddenly she was sitting up on her elbows in bed again. Her heart was pounding, but not from fear. Lingering feelings of elation melted away, leaving her disturbed.

What am I thinking? Gods, I hope Chaia wasn’t watching me!

She tried to gather her thoughts. It wasn’t intentional. It was just a dream. She couldn’t control her dreams. Ah, if only I could!

She lay back down, patting Mischief as he gave a sleepy whine at her movement.

A dream, she told herself. Surely Chaia wouldn’t have been offended by that?

Even so, it was a long time before she fell asleep again.

It wasn’t easy staying awake. Imi stared at the ceiling, tracing the marks made hundreds of years before by the tools of cave-carvers.

From the other side of the room came a soft wheezing.

At last!

She smiled and slowly began to climb out of the pool. It was one of Teiti’s duties to stay close to her at night in case she fell ill or called for help. Curtains dividing the room gave Imi some privacy, but they did not block sounds.

Years before she had done something about that. She’d quietly complained to her father about her aunt’s snoring and suggested walls be built around the guardian’s sleeping pool. He had agreed, but she suspected only because Teiti had been the first guardian Imi had liked; he didn’t want to have to find her a new one.

A single curved wall had been built beside the guardian’s pool, not quite meeting the room’s wall. Imi had told her father she been hoping for a complete room, including a door, but he only smiled and asked how Teiti was supposed to hear Imi call out for help if she was completely shut away.

Imi found that the curved wall did block noises enough to allow her to creep about without waking her aunt. Ironically, Teiti had not been a snorer in those days, but had recently developed the habit. Now Imi had two reasons to be grateful for the wall.

She brushed droplets of moisture off her skin, then paused to listen for Teiti’s snoring. Earlier that day, Imi had sent her aunt on several errands - tasks that only the princess’s guardian could carry out - in order to wear Teiti out. As she’d hoped, her aunt had wanted to retire early and had quickly fallen into a deep sleep.

The soft wheeze of Teiti’s breathing continued. Imi walked over to a carving on the wall. Reaching behind, she found the bolt that held it fast and carefully pulled it aside. The carving swung outward like a door, revealing a hole in the wall.

A large box lay on the floor under the carving. She stepped on top of it, then climbed into the hole. Looking back, she wedged her webbed toes in a bolt loop on the back of the carving and pulled it closed.

It was utterly dark in the tunnel. Imi crawled forward, bothered less by the lack of light than by the closeness of the tunnel. She had grown quite a bit in the last year, and soon she would have trouble fitting into the small space.

When the sound of her breathing changed subtly, she knew she was near the end of the tunnel. She reached forward and touched a hard surface. Tracing her fingertips over it, she found the bolt and slid it open.

The hatch became visible as it opened and allowed in a faint light. She crept forward until her head was exposed. The inside of a wooden cupboard surrounded her. She paused to listen, then crawled farther forward so she could put her eye to the crack between the cupboard doors. The narrow room before her was empty and dim. Grabbing the frame of the hatch, she pulled herself out of the tunnel, unlatched the cupboard doors and stepped out.

She went straight to the door of the room and peered through the little spy-hole in its center. It was high up, and she had only recently been able to reach it. Before she had been forced to open the door a crack to check outside.

The passage beyond the door was empty. Satisfied, she turned to regard the room. The walls on either side were a mass of pipes. The end of each flared outward and were shaped like ears. Her father had told her long ago that he had a device that allowed him to listen into other people’s conversations. He had never shown her this room, however: she had found it herself.

What he had shown her, years before, was the hole behind the carving in her room. He’d told her she was to hide there if the palace was attacked by bad people. She didn’t know whether he feared attack by landwalkers or from bad Elai. The landwalker raiders that had robbed and attacked Elai in the past couldn’t enter the city. They couldn’t hold their breath long enough to swim along the underwater entrance.

If her father hadn’t meant for her to discover the room, she reasoned, he wouldn’t have shown her the