Here is my holiday gift. Merry Christmas, and thanks to all reviewers! Gotta go! :D


Chapter Two

Sleep

March 15, 482 H.E.

Deryne woke to a quiet rap on her door; she had planned to sleep in. Scowling, the squire rose, still wearing her breeches from the day before; she often fell asleep on her bed listening to the soft breezes that carried news to her ears.

Grabbing at a robe, she tugged it on as she crossed the room to yank open the door, freezing when she saw who had knocked.

Rikash stood in the door, looking down at the floor. When he raised his amber eyes to her face, Deryne raised an eyebrow.

"Hello," he muttered before ducking his head again.

"Hi," she answered after a moment. "Any particular reason for this?" He grimaced.

"Han sent me to beg on bended knee," he mumbled. Deryne's eyebrows rose further still.

"For what?" Rikash sighed.

"Getting too wrapped up in the duel." The youth looked her in the eye again, and Deryne could tell he was sorry. Angry, but not at her. As usual. Without another word, she backed up, allowing him in before she shut the door behind them.

"Ri, you've got to sort this out." He grimaced.

"Han's been dragging me off for meditation, but I'm not the type to sit and think about nothing for hours on end," he said ruefully, smiling at her; he stopped when she did not return it. "I just-" His fists tightened; she could tell by his wrinkled brow that he thought about each word before he spoke. "-need… an outlet. One that I only get when we're-" He trailed off listlessly, raising a hand to his head. When she saw he had no more to say, Deryne rubbed her eyes wearily.

"Ri, since last year, when we came to this agreement that we would try to get along again-" She took a deep breath, then let it out, Rikash watching her as if she was the one likely to explode into flame. "-we'll be fine for a few months, and something stupid will happen, and we're archenemies for another few months-"

"Not archenemies," Rikash muttered resently. Deryne rolled her eyes.

"Close enough," she retorted resignedly. "Ri, I can't keep up."

"I can't, either." Deryne snorted at his reply.

"You're the one causing the problems." Rikash stiffened, then recomposed himself.

"Probably." Deryne groaned softly, plopping down on her bed. She really wanted to go back to bed, to close her eyes and forget all of this….

"It needs to stop. Now." She hoped she sounded adamant. Rikash hesitated. "Ri, how would you feel if I came to you, begging for forgiveness and swearing to be more humble, then up and tried to hurt you-" Rikash winced.

"I shouldn't have used the combustion spell," he admitted, but he gritted his teeth as he said it; he was nearing his breaking point. Deryne fell silent, gazing up into the rafters, then allowed her head to sink in a single, deep nod.

"Right. And I don't think I can let you do this to me," she said darkly, then she stood and strode over to the door, which she opened brusquely with a quick twist of her wrist. "Come back when you know it won't happen again." She raised her eyes to meet Rikash's gaze and held it, refusing to waver. "Just remember," she said quietly. "To ask yourself who you're angry with, when you face me on the courts?" When you fight as though the battle is to the death. But she would never say that.

Rikash was quiet for a very long moment; Deryne began to fear he would not leave. Finally, he ducked his head, breaking eye contact to stride out of the room; Deryne closed her eyes as he swept past her, the breeze caressing her face as he disappeared.

Then, without opening them, she shut the door and locked it behind him.

She would have to tell Numair there would be no more duels; not until she returned from whatever campaign she and her knight master were sent on. Not until she regained the courage- or foolishness- to dare to try again.


March 28, 482 H.E.

Deryne paced her chambers impatiently, snapping her fingers anxiously.

Dashing about in circles won't make the Kyprian ship go faster, a snide voice rang in her ears. She glared at the kestrel she had named Duskwing resting on his perch; she was accustomed to his impudence. Or, rather, the Chamber's impudence; several years ago, the Chamber of Ordeal, the final test for squires seeking their shield, saw fit to possess her kestrel in order to speak with her. Advise her. Annoy her.

"My Ordeal is going to be weird," she muttered, shaking her head. "Since I know you and everything." The kestrel shook out his wings.

It will be no different than if you had never known me, it told her coldly. You will not recognize me in there; I am multitude- in many places at once. And the part of me interred within the Chamber is very different from the rest of me. Deryne shrugged.

"I'd rather not think too hard about that, if you don't mind," she said. "I've got enough headaches as it is."

You should go to bed, the Chamber told her. Deryne sighed.

"I can't- I just can't wait to see her- what if they come in late-? I want to be there with Meq when they arrive-"

They will wait in the harbor of Port Caynn until dawn, then proceed down the river. It would unsafe to go any further at night. The squire scowled; that did not make her any less awake. Close your eyes; you will be surprised, I think. A low, burbling sound escaped the bird. If you insist on remaining awake, we will have to discuss this absurd conflict you stubbornly encourage with the Salmalin boy. Deryne glowered; there was a twinge of smugness in his voice.

"I'm going," she muttered, yanking the blankets on her bed to the side so she could crawl underneath them. "Happy?"


Cyne stood on the dock of the ship, staring down into the dark water; at sea, the moonlight seemed to pierce the water like a sunbeam in a storm, unlikely and lovely.

"I went to Tortall once before," she said to the youth standing next to her. He was gazing up in the sky, eyes thoughtful.

"You never told me that," he said. "Any reason?" Cyne shrugged, feeling her insides cringe; without even trying, Damek always managed to ask the right- or wrong- question.

"It never came up." That was true; she would have steered any conversation away from the whole tradgic comedy of errors. In such a short span of time, she had been kidnapped, attacked by Stormwings, and performed a spell that had changed her entire life, her feelings about her powers and her outlook on those around her.

But, despite all of that, she was excited; somewhere, deep down inside her, an old ache eased, and a sense that seemed to draw her towards Tortall grew with every wind that brought their ship nearer to Port Caynn.

A wave of exhaustion snuck up on her, taking her unawares; she smiled wearily at Damek and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm going to sleep," she whispered. She let herself lean on him for a moment and then began to pull back, but not before he placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head. She stiffened; it was a rare moment, when he dared to kiss her. Fleetingly, she remembered the last time his lips had been on hers, the seductive sense of falling, plunging into deep, dark water, before he had jerked away with a quiet apology. He did not give her a chance to look up at him; he stepped away to lean up against the ship's edge.

"Good night," he whispered. Cyne watched him quietly for moment, then turned her back, cursing her magic more fervently than she had in months.


Deryne was flying; she smiled, letting her gaze drift across the coast as a chilly breeze wrapped around her. She had done this many a time; there were the cliffs, the white cliffs she had seen many times in her dreams.

In her lessons with Numair, she had learned to levitate, even move around in the air, but she could not soar like this….

There was an island, a small speck in the blue ocean. Deryne could not see it, but the gudruna that swept around her whispered it was there. She flew further north, straining her eyes. Finally, she gave up and landed gently down in the light snowfall on the cliffs. Calling up her magic, she breathed a coaxing summoning to the visions on the wind.

Then, suddenly, she was there; she jolted as she was thrust forwards, into a garden she did not recognize. Shakingly, she pushed a strand of hair behind her ears and looked around; there was a pond, a shining pool of water-

It was summer there; flowers bloomed and the lush grass practically glowed in the light. A low rumbling grew in her ears, but the girl ignored it as she approached the water, muscles trembling as she grew more and more certain of what it was-

It was not water at all, or, rather, it was not just water; underneath the shining surface was a Vent. A Vent through which Shadow immortals from Chaos could escape into the mortal realms. Deryne felt a chill rush through her; she bit her lip, hard. How could Gainel, God of Dreams, put her through this in her sleep?

It did not matter; she had to close it, just like she had sealed those in the Black City and in the Black Caverns. Taking a deep breath, she raised a hand above the water as blue light gathered in her palm. A Seal was long and complicated, but she would have to bestow a powerful one; this Vent was huge.

But as she began to write the runes in the air, they disappeared.

Frowning, Deryne began again, slower this time, and again, they faded into nothingness.

"You think you can stop me, just like that?" a woman's voice snarled; Deryne tried to turn and look, but claws grabbed her, closed down on her neck, and threw her down, into the water.

There were faces, in the dark water; she thought she saw Han before a horrified Cyne turned to look at her, her glowing blue-green eyes wide. Then the squire slammed into the Vent, lurking on the bottom of the pond; pain wracked through her body, convulsions twisting her insides. When she opened her mouth to scream, water poured in, gagging her.

I want to wake now, she cried soundlessly, and then the pond and the garden and the Vent were gone. Coughing up the water in her lungs, Deryne looked around her.

She was in the middle of a battle, a war with no sound. Swords flashed, blood stained the desolate plain a dark red, drowning the little grass that survived the stampede. Around her, men fought and died, mouths open in silent screams of despair and yells of triumph. An arrow whizzed by her; Deryne stared at the space in bewilderment; why hadn't she sensed it? She struggled to find a single gudruna, but there were none; she was deaf to them.

"Deryne!" Relief flooded through her at the sound of the cry, but as she turned, she saw an enormous Shadow, boring down on her, fangs glinting in the utter darkness of its ghostly body. Then Rikash was at her side, his hands on her shoulders. Their eyes locked; his amber eyes burned wildly. "Wake up!" he screamed at her. She stared at him, confused; she was dreaming? She had forgotten; everything seemed so real, except for the silence- The Shadow snarled, and the sound sent a jolt of forboding through her.

"I can't," she tried to say, but found she could not speak. Rikash shook her.

"Get up!" Wordlessly, she lifted her hands in helpless appeal. He swore, and his magic licked out, burning Deryne's skin with white hot light as the Shadow fell upon them.

She cried out, falling to her knees-

And she was awake, her kestrel crying out in alarm.

"Chamber?" she gasped, shaking, but there was no answer; Duskwing was in his right mind for the time being. She rolled out of bed, ignoring the chill that seeped thorugh her as her feet touched the stone; it eased the heat that tore at her shoulders-

Her shoulders. Deryne pulled up the sleeves of her nightgown; she winced as they chafed at her skin, finally revealing a red, blistered burn on both her arms, where Rikash had grabbed her in the dream. She stared down at the blisters, mouth open in shock.

"It happened," she breathed. "It actually-" And if she could not escape the dream without help-

Deryne yanked off her thin gown, disregarding the pain that seared through her skin, and reached for her breeches and shirt.


As Deryne disappeared, Rikash raised a hand, still glowing with his magic, up to the monster; it pulled away, shrieking, as flames consumed it. The youth spun around, trying to understand the battle before him; who was fighting who?

Which side was he on? A man raced past him, and Rikash's eyes widened; he had black eyes, completely black, and his pale, almost white, face was distorted, as though he wore a makeshift mask. Rikash shrank away as the man's soldiers followed him, bellowing loudly, as they clashed with another group of troops; they moved almost too fast for Rikash to watch, swords whipped back and forth with impossible speed- one collapsed, clutching his stomach. Then another fell, a hand at his neck, trying to stem the blood spurting from it.

A woman with black hair and white eyes grabbed one of the pale men and slashed at him with her blade; when that failed, she tackled him and raked her teeth across his neck. Chills seeped through Rikash as the woman leapt up and caught sight of him.

She smiled, her iris-less eyes blinking as she stepped towards him. The youth backed away, alarmed, but she approached, undaunted, to sweep into a low bow.

"Sire," she murmured, her dark skin glowing in the sun. "We told you death would come if you did not do as we asked." Rikash shook his head numbly as she approached, raising her sword.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" he said heatedly as she advanced. Sweat formed on his brow; he had to wake up now-

"Now you lie." The blade glinted in the light, her teeth gleamed. "And I will give all liars their just punishment: death." Rikash stumbled, searching for anything to protect himself- sword or staff would do-

Then a familiar magic descended upon his mind, blasting through his mental defenses to seize the dream he found himself trapped within. In moments, it wrapped around his mind and thrust him out of the dream, away from the battlefield, and back into his own world.

Ri! His eyes snapped open; Deryne's face was in his, her fists clenching his shirt as she shook him violently. He started with alarm, then shrank back with horror. He could sense her mind in his; she had shoved her own thoughts into his-

"Get out," he growled lowly, forcing up his barriers, hating the knowledge he now had; mental defense or none, she would always be able to enter his mind. And now she knew what had happened in his dream. Her eyes- hard as the steel that had been ready to end his life- narrowed; she still gripped his shirt.

"I did it to save you," she said sharply. "Just like you had to burn me to save me." Rikash swallowed back a hateful remark; had he actually hurt her? She released him, easing herself off of his bed. "I'll have to go see my da, and there are going to be some odd questions about how I managed to burn my arms like that."

"I'd rather have the burns," he retorted, trying to stifle the rage in his voice; he had told her never to touch his mind again. Deryne's smile was cold.

"It was necessary. I wasn't prying into any of your deep, dark secrets- I was saving your life, if what I saw is right." A low sigh escaped him, and he made himself voice his thoughts, despite his reluctance.

"I know. You did what you had to." Deryne's eyes widened with surprise at his admission, but she glowered again.

"I'll leave you, then-" He cleared his throat as she began to turn away, catching her attention once more.

"What was that?" he asked hoarsely. Deryne hesitated.

"Doesn't matter, does it?" she asked shortly. "After breakfast, we'll talk to your father, and he'll sort it out. In the meantime, stay out of my head. You dragged me into that dream, and I don't want any part of it." Rikash's eyes narrowed as she escaped, slipping out into the hall. He had had similar dreams before, but he had never had the power to touch another person's mind.

That hadn't been him, and she knew it.


Cyne sat up, heart pounding. She jumped when she heard another voice.

"Nightmare?" The girl turned to her red-haired friend, Merle Crow, who had a hand on her shoulder, and nodded shakily. "I shook you awake," she explained. "What was it this time?" Cyne frowned, her eyes narrowing.

"A battle," she said softly. "And drowning." She looked up at her friend, who looked vaguely interested, but tired, too. "We were all drowning. All of us." She swallowed heavily. "Everything. In darkness."