Voice of the Gods

Dameen’s sharp eyes narrowed. “You suspect Dreamweavers of meddling in our dreams?”

Teroan shrugged. “Two people dreaming the same dream on the same night is only coincidence. If we find anyone else has had the same dream, perhaps there is more to it.”

“And if Mirar does appear in Southern Ithania?”

Teroan nodded. “Yes. That might convince me, too.”

Glowing coals were all that was left in the brazier. Cushions had been scattered before the hearth, and a woman lay sleeping upon them. Beside her was an empty cup and a jug. Danjin paused to admire the curve of her hip and fine angles of her face before walking toward her. He felt a warm affection. Truly he was lucky to have Silava as a wife.

There had been times he thought himself cursed, but they were long ago and best forgotten.

She stirred, probably at the sound of his sandals on the floor. Her eyes opened and she blinked at him, then smiled.

“Danjin,” she said.

“Silava. You weren’t waiting for me, were you?”

“Yes and no. I was having a private celebration. If you happened to turn up to join me, all the better.”

“What are you celebrating?”

“We,” she corrected, “are celebrating the birth of another grandchild. A granddaughter.”

He looked at her in surprise. “She arrived early?”

“Yes.” Silava hesitated. “I want to stay with Tivela a while.”

He nodded. “Yes. Help with the baby. When will you leave?”

Silava narrowed her eyes at him. “You aren’t displaying nearly enough reluctance or disappointment at the prospect of my absence for my satisfaction.”

“No,” he agreed, chuckling. “Though I have been led to believe that would go against all laws of nature and the gods.”

Her eyes narrowed further.

“I have some news of my own,” he told her quickly. “You may wish to hear it before you flay the skin from my body.”

“Oh?”

“Ellareen is going to Dunway and she wants me with her.”

“Oh.” She looked downcast, then she smiled and regarded him triumphantly as she rose to her feet. “See. That’s how one shows disappointment. It’s quite simple, and should be well within the abilities of an adviser. Why Dunway?”

“Hania is not the only county the Pentadrians have tried converting. They sent their Servants all over Northern Ithania - except Si, for some reason. Maybe because Auraya is there, though I have no idea why that would deter them.”

“They did send people into Si,” Silava said. “It was the reason Auraya went back there.”

He smacked his palm against his forehead. “Of course! I forgot about that. It seems like so long ago.”

Silava linked her arm in his and nudged him toward the door. “You miss her, don’t you?”

Danjin frowned. “I suppose I do.”

“You don’t like Ella as much, do you?”

He looked at her in surprise. “Why do you say that?”

“You don’t talk about her in the same way. Do you like her?”

He shrugged. “Ella’s likeable but... With Auraya I knew there were things she couldn’t tell me but it was easy to forget that. With Ella I’m reminded of it all the time.”

“Maybe she has more secrets than Auraya did.”

Danjin laughed. “More than Auraya? I hope not!” Or at least not such scandalous secrets. He couldn’t imagine Ella taking a Dreamweaver as a lover. He couldn’t imagine Ella taking anyone as a lover. Though as passionate about her work as Auraya, she was somehow colder and more distant.

But maybe that was only because it was taking longer for him to relax around her. Auraya hadn’t broken his trust, but he had been disappointed with her for having an affair with Leiard. He had never forgiven himself for not noticing something was going on. He hadn’t even had a chance to advise her against such foolishness. Now he couldn’t help watching Ella closely, ready to offer a sensible viewpoint if she faced a similar dilemma.

They reached the doorway and stepped out into the corridor. Silava yawned. “Or maybe Auraya is one of Ella’s secrets.”

He considered his wife. “You think there’s more to Auraya’s resignation, then?”

“Maybe.” She shrugged. “Not that it would matter to anyone now. She’s gone. Ella’s taken her place. Hmm, you still haven’t told me why Ella’s going to Dunway.”

“The Pentadrians are up to something there.”

“Not murdering more Dreamweavers, are they?”

He shook his head. “We’re not sure what, which is why we’re going.” The shocking revelations about the Pentadrians’ plot in Jarime had spread through the city quickly, and the protests against the hospice and attacks on Dreamweavers had stopped. At the same time, dozens of people had been either dragged to the Temple, beaten, driven out of their homes or even murdered, at sometimes the mere suspicion of being Pentadrian. Ella had not been as dismayed by this as he had expected.

“People like having something to direct their hate at,” Ella had said. “The Pentadrians are far more deserving of it than the Dreamweavers.”

“But some of the people who have been attacked aren’t Pentadrians,” he’d pointed out.

“Yes, and we’ve compensated them - after we confirmed their innocence, of course.”

“Once this plot is forgotten, people will start worrying about Dreamweavers again,” he’d warned.

“Then we’ll have to keep reminding them who the true enemy is.”

Silava squeezed his arm, drawing his attention back from his thoughts. “I meant, why is Ella going, not one of the other White? She’s a bit new to her role to be given such a task.”

Danjin shrugged. “They must consider her capable enough. And the sooner she gains some experience of other lands the better.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“I don’t know. Months, probably.”

Silava sighed. “At least you’re not going to war. A warrior nation, but not a war.” She yawned again. “I’m too tired to think about it. Let’s get some sleep.”

He gave in to a yawn of his own as they went upstairs. News upon news. “Another grandchild,” he murmured. “A man could start feeling old.”

Silava’s eyebrows rose, but she said nothing. Her silence came as a surprise.

No teasing? She really must be tired.

He took that as a hint to hold his tongue and followed her into the bedroom. Despite his weariness he lay awake, his mind too full of matters he must take care of before leaving.

“Yes. The counters set. That’ll do,” Silava murmured suddenly.

“What?”

“Oh.” He heard her turn her head toward him. “Are you still awake?”

“Yes.”

“Sorry.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“Packing,” she said. “I have two lots of packing to do now.”

“You don’t have to pack for me.”

She laughed. “Since when have you packed for yourself? Go to sleep. And don’t worry. I’ll arrange everything.”