A Note from Nessa'fur:
Thank you to everyone who has reviewed these last few chapters!! I have to apologize for being so very inconsistent recently, but there is a lot going on in Nessa's World (job hunting, college hunting, scholarship hunting) and I don't always find the time to write as I should. Also, I have to admit, this chapter (and the previous one...and the next one) has been kicking my ass for about a month now. I've been stumped about how to get the right sort of mood, and to tie together all of the storylines into a transition that makes coherent sense with what is to come. I've been scribbling little bits of this and that for...well, it seems like forever, but things are finally starting to fall into place. This chapter is hot off the press, actually, so please excuse any editorial mistakes that I might have missed in my flurry to get it to you guys.
Your reviews are inspiring, and keep me on my toes--which is totally awesome. I'm sorry that things (both in the writing, and plot development department) are going a little slowly right now, but I promise that things will be speeding up soon. Thanks for hanging in there with me!
~Nessa'fur
Chapter Fifty-three: Tense Travels
Tension.
Tension all around him.
Tension thrumming through his veins. Every muscle clenched, every nerve-ending sparked, and his heart pounded in a ragged rhythm. He could hear himself grinding his teeth, but he could not stop himself, for he was paralyzed, petrified by the tension that hovered close about him, strangling him even as he lay helpless in his bedroll.
During the day, when the sun shone bright and cheerful in the sky, the tension seemed like only the memory of a bad dream, haunting the edges of his awareness. Then, he reveled in the exhilaration of being alive. He inhaled the sweet air of springtime and laughed loud and long in defiance of death, for all around him the world abounded with the vibrant bounty of life.
When they were riding, he was able to push aside his worries, his fear. He joked and capered, in the refreshing company of Ana's playful wit, and Karma's sly, black humor. He was happy to have those two women in his life, for they were bright stars in a dark night.
He wished that he had known them sooner, that he had had the chance to play and frolic with them in his childhood, when life had been so simple and free. When they paused in their conversations, and silence descended, Illieno couldn't help but wonder, sometimes, that he had only known Karma for a few days, and Ana only a week or so longer. He felt as if he had always known them, that they understood his need to laugh and grin cheekily in the face of fate.
He was glad that he would have them beside him when the time finally came, and they fought against the Imp and his horde. As a long-time gambler, Illieno knew that the odds were heavily stacked against them. His spies had informed him that the Imp's forces were so vast they seemed to span from horizon to horizon, and that at night, the lights from their campfires seemed as numerous as the stars, though they could not be the stars, for clouds obscured the skies above the dark army.
He knew that it was a long bet, to bet on them all making it through the coming battle alive. He knew that there were pretty good odds that he would leave this world in one way or another. Probably while attempting to execute some hare-brained scheme thought up on a whim.
But he was betting his life on that slim chance of success, and the tension could not drive away the hope that filled him whenever he was with Ana and Karma. So he laughed and played. He knew that he was overcompensating with his tricks and follies, but he could not seem to stop, even when he saw that his behavior had crossed the line between amusing and annoying.
Then again, there were times when Karma's complacency and tendency towards cynicism wore on his nerves. Ana drove him especially crazy sometimes, for her quicksilver moods, when combined with her stubborn determination to ignore her own feelings, could be unbearable. Will was just as bad, if not worse. But Illieno knew Will, better, perhaps, than Will knew himself, and Illieno understood Will's renitence. Understanding, however, did not translate into empathy. Will's ability to assess a situation was unparalleled; the man was an expert at calculating strategy. In the past, Illieno had admired that about Will, for he was driven to learn, to question the things he learns and weigh them against his own experiences and the needs of the circumstances. But, Mirthros, when Will became convinced about something he could be so stubborn! Sometimes, when Illieno was in his darker moods, he felt a little smug knowing that Will was digging his own grave. It was an ugly feeling, and it disgusted him even as he thought that it was just that Will's greatest asset—his ability to wait for the right moment to employ the right strategy—was the root of his unhappiness.
But then the feeling would pass, and he felt only sad that Ana and Will were so blind to the fact that they needed each other. He had sworn a solemn oath to Will that he would say nothing to Ana about his knowledge of his friend's feelings, but he gave her little hints whenever he could.
Not that she ever got any of them.
And as for Will…well, perhaps if he pushed just a little bit he could get him to see that Ana needed him to make the first move.
Illieno drifted off into an uneasy sleep, and his eyelids flickered as he dreamed gray, wispy dreams of his childhood. But Ana and Karma were there, with him and Will. He was eleven again, and they were running through the familiar streets of Corus, waving sticks and shrieking as they played games of war and heroic battle. Ana, her face young and bright and untroubled, said that she was the Lioness, and that they were running to break the siege at Corus. "I'm George Cooper!" Illieno called, whirling in a circle, then posturing valiantly. "I'll save you all from the Imp!"
Ana rolled her eyes, laughing. "You come too late though," she said. "I do all the work and you just clean up the mess."
"Let's act it out." Karma suggested, her brown eyes twinkling. Yes, they all agreed. "Will is King Jonathon, trapped in the Palace." Ana said to Will, pointing to the tower that had appeared in the distance, "I'll come and save you!"
Will grinned at her, his face the happy, open face of his boyhood, when he'd felt free to show his emotions
"But first you have to battle the Imp!" Illieno said, He suddenly strode between them, changing in character from savior to villain without a blink. Karma was at his side, "And you have to sneak out of the Siege of Pirate's Swoop and past the Imp's armies before you can battle him."
Ana looked back and forth between them, contemplating these new developments. She ran behind a tree, for they were in a park, where the great oaks stood straight and tall, looking solemnly down upon them. "I have to get past you!" she called, naming the game.
"I'll hide," Will put in, moving off into the trees, "and then you have to find me, Ana."
And then the dream changed, changed so suddenly it nearly woke him up. In the dreamland, he heard the sound of dry, evil laughter ringing through the trees and he cringed, suddenly alone in a dark forest where wolves howled and owls shrieked over the sound of the terrible, terrible laughter.
Illieno opened his eyes, staring at the opening ceiling of his tent, where he could see the first rays of morning shining through. He shivered, feeling exposed and shaken. He lay back for a moment, breathing in deeply as he tried to shake off the tension that made his muscles quiver.
It was no use. He had to move or he would go crazy.
Heaving a sigh, Illieno rolled to his feet, bundling his blankets into a neat roll. It was still very early, it would be an hour or two before the camp stirred and broke the night's fast. He had time enough for a short run. Perhaps, if he was lucky, he would stumble upon a stream or farmer's well where he could have a wash.
Illieno made him self invisible and discovered something startling.
The tension disappeared.
In his surprise, he tripped over the bedroll he'd just finished bundling and landed heavily on his back. His fall was cushioned by his saddlebags, but in a lumpy, uncomfortable way. Illieno groaned as he lay there, for he felt again the pressure all around him. The pressure to move. He opened his eyes and saw that he was visible again.
With an effort, Illieno pushed against the tension which surrounded him. He summoned his discipline and remembered what it was to be nothing, to be unseen, unnoticed, unsubstantial.
The tension reached a tipping point and then it disappeared, even as he felt himself disappear.
There was no one to see him grin, so there was no one to judge whether it was smirk or grimace, but some strong feeling made Illieno's lips draw back to expose his teeth.
I must talk to Will about this, Illieno thought, as he invisibly got to his feet. Will and Karma both, for I am very disconcerted with this development and would like to know their thoughts on the matter. He might have added Ana to that list, but he was reluctant to tell her, for he could sometimes predict her moods and he thought the knowledge would only serve to frustrate and frighten her.
~:~
Will stared straight ahead, his expression blank as he guided Darkness along the Old Road East, but though his features remained impassive his mind churned with his inner turmoil. Emotions waged constant war in his body and mind, wounding him with their ferocious power.
On his right hand, Illieno, Ana, and Karma were involved in a fierce riddling competition. Karma was the best guesser, but Illieno was the best riddler, and Ana played with determination, but was easily stumped. She was good-natured about losing, and laughed along with Illieno's ribbing and Karma's dry observations. He watched out of the corner of his eye as they cavorted and teased each other, and seethed inwardly.
He longed to join in the game, in the happy society that had sprung up in the past few days. But as much as Illieno sought to draw him into their little fold, the more an intruder on their fun he felt. He could not quite bring himself to join in their amusements, for he could not keep his mind on silly games or riddles, not when there were so many other things he had to be thinking about. And he had no patience with losing, as he enviably did, distracted as he was by the ominous thoughts and feelings which churned inside him.
Time. Time was slipping away from him.
There was so much to do and so little time to do it in. Will went endlessly over his plans and strategy, looking for holes and flaws. He held conferences with all of his advisors and questioned his spies, gathering every scrap of information about the enemy available. He thought he finally had it all figured out in his mind, and tonight he would bring all of his commanders together, to fill them all in on the big picture and outline their individual pieces in the puzzle.
He knew it was fruitless to continue to revise his plans now—they were made, and only waited the time for their execution—but his mind kept on searching for a catch, kept envisioning different scenarios and conceiving of problems that may arise, kept on trying to come up with solutions, ways to counter the moves of his shadowy opponent.
He was also keenly aware that he must not make the mistake of assuming that Li Dubyn would act in a predictable manner. There were so many possible ways for the imp to attack; it was not conceivable that Will could imagine them all. He had made the best plan that he could from the information he had, weighing the costs to his people if they tried this tactic or that.
He knew he should allow himself to relax now, but he couldn't quite manage.
The irritating feeling that he was missing something vitally important plagued him.
He felt like he was leading his people to their execution.
He felt like it was already too late, and that their history was written for them. He thought of the choices he'd made, the chances he'd taken, and wondered where he had gone wrong.
For Will had learned to trust in his dreams, and his dreams had gone gray.
He tried to remember exactly when it had started to happen, when it was that the vibrancy of his dreams had begun to decay. What night had the color started to drain from his dreamlands? He couldn't be certain, for it had crept up upon him so slowly that had hadn't noticed, at first, that his dreams were changing. If he had to pinpoint a time, it had been just after Ana's return to Corus. He thought that his dreams had been subtly graying for some good time before the Feast of the Anointing, but it had been that night that he became conscious that his dreams had morphed into nightmares.
Since that night, he'd watched, helpless, as his dreams became darker and more obscured. Now, when he went to sleep, the images frightened him with their bleak, ashy tones. He caught only fleeting glimpses of previous dreams, and they were distorted as if seen through a shattered mirror, throwing dark reflections of a burned and bloody world.
His dreams disturbed him, for never before had they been so hopeless, so bleary. His dreams terrified him and fueled the doubt which plagued him, doubt which he could not shake.
He remembered the vivid, real quality of his dreams before…before whenever it was they'd become tainted.
He wondered how Li Dubyn had done it, that tainting.
Illieno's information about the effects of becoming invisible (not to mention his vivid relation of his own dreams, just before the discovery) had been the final confirmation in his mind; the imp was somehow able to affect their dreams.
He had already pestered Tohmas and Harrison about the limitations of the Gift, straining his own memory to think of any mention of a spell that could manipulate a person's unconscious. Harrison shook his head and said that he would ask around to see if anyone among the mages had any obscure knowledge of imp Gifts, while Tohmas grew pensive and dove into his books (Will wondered where it was that Tohmas stored his seemingly endless supply of books, for he always seemed to be immersed in one giant tomb or another, yet he carried nothing more than his saddle-bags. Perhaps he had a small library stashed in one of the supply tents.) But wherever Tohmas got his information, Will was grateful, for the old man was a wizard when it came to the ways of magic and the Gift. Tohmas told him that it was said that the Gods had the power to affect dreams, and that it was possible to hypnotize a person with the Gift in a way that allowed one to suggest and direct a person's dreams. "But it is necessary for the spellweaver and the dreamer to be in contact in some fashion."
"Could the spell be woven through a likeness of the person? Or at a distance?" Will had asked.
Tohmas shook his head, "If there is a way then it is not in my books or my experience, but that does not by any means mean it is impossible. The Imp might have better references than I. But I shall bend my mind to the matter, and see if I can come up with a way to shield our dreams." He smiled at him, but his eyes were already distant and his brow was furrowed as he muttered, "It is very interesting that Illieno is able to escape the edgy energy he feels when he becomes invisible…"
And in the mean time, Will had another worry to add to the seething cauldron of doubt and terror and uncertainty that had become his inner world.
For if his theory was correct, and Li Dubyn had managed to cast a spell over them all, to send evil dreams, then what else was he capable of? How could he ever hope to counter such knowledge and power?
How could he send his people into battle against such a foe?
He had doomed them all to die.
No, he thought fiercely. No, I will not give in to Li Dubyn and his fear-mongering. He wants me afraid, uncertain. He wants me to surrender to the fear, the tension, the doubt.
Will let his eyes rove across the scenery, willing himself to believe that he could bring them all through these dark times. If they were to die, then they would go down fighting to their last breath. His people believed in him, so there could be no room for doubt. He had to know that what he did was right, so they would not lose faith and waver in their trust in him.
His eyes focused, and Will became aware that his glance had wandered over to where Ana rode on Firedance's back, laughing to some joke of Illieno's or Karma's making. It was a direction which his eyes—and his thoughts—often went, though he could no longer meet her gaze, shamed that she might see the fear in his eyes.
He was suddenly struck with violent self-loathing.
For a King, he thought, I am a mighty coward. I cannot even speak to the woman I love, for fear she will hear my passion in my words, fear that she will know my heart and her eyes will tell me that she does not feel the same. Instead I hover on the edges of her days, like the fumbling, creeping coward I am, too fearful of rejection to seek her attention.
If only she would give him some clue, some hint as to how she felt. He'd been hopeful, on the night that he'd made her Champion—when she had looked into his eyes and said that she was his to command—that she had said the words because she felt as he did. He had almost made himself believe that she understood what he did not say, that he needed her—not just for his country and his people but for him. He needed her to trust him, needed her to be honest with him.
He had done his best to ease her transition into responsibility, allowing her time to rest and recover from the Knighthood trials. He had left Ana alone, not wanting to burden her further with worry when she had enough to worry about already. He'd asked Lucas to tell her the role of a Champion, but in a gentle, subtle way, so that she might maintain her honor and dignity and not have to suffer the indignity of having to admit ignorance and endure an overt explanation. She had taken a heavy honor upon her, but she had risen admirably to the position. She was the Champion of Tortall, for she championed everyone with her smiles and brave laughter in the face of such danger.
But the next time he had seen her she had been curt and formal, and her eyes had glinted with a hostile light when she looked at him, as if she were angry. She had evaded his questions when he asked what troubled her, until he had given up in frustration.
After that brief encounter, on the very first eve of their journey, he had approached her with caution, never knowing what mood she might be in. Usually she was cordial enough, but for the most part she ignored him, conversing with everyone but him.
So he cowered and wondered, wondered whether it was the imp's spell that had made her so volatile around him…or had she seen the confession in his words that night, as she'd taken her swords from his grip? Was this her way of warning him, of letting him down gently by snubbing him?
And then there was the matter of the man—the man that Ana had asked about. He remembered her face as she stared at Jerod son of Joshua with tear-filled eyes and whispered, "Did he look well?"
Who was that man?
Who was he, to inspire such love and caring from her? What did he mean to Ana? What did Ana mean to him?
Jealousy simmered in his chest, churning and bursting in searing bubbles.
It haunted him, rearing its ugly head and souring his temper.
It drove him crazy, the way they wagered silly things like singing a song or scouring the dishes after the evening meal. He hated having to endure listening to the three of them laugh at their own anecdotes and converse with the comedic timing of old friends. They were inseparable, those three—the Own had taken to calling them the Three Jokers, talking about them like they were some sort of traveling troupe.
Will gritted his teeth, annoyed at himself, at Illieno..and Ana…at the whole situation. It drove him crazy because he wanted to play with her, with them. He would have given anything at that moment to be able to laugh as they did.
But he must keep his features neutral, to keep his face relaxed and calm, or else he might betray to them just how terrified he was. He could not see, but he could feel the long column of men and horses, wagons and dogs and animal friends that followed behind him. He felt the weight of their loyalty, the pull of their eyes. He did his best to look into the eyes of his men with a sure, steady gaze; to reassure them with his calm but purposeful movements. Sometimes, he would ride among them with Lucas (and the ever-present honor guard of five Own's men) for a time. The King's Own were seasoned warriors, but many of the knights were farmers or merchants or craftsmen first, and the two of them spent hours with one motley group or another, discussing their lives, their families, their fortunes, and skills. He asked them questions about their lives, to remind them of the reasons they rode to war—to defend their livelihoods. When he had to, he gave orders with practiced ease, trusting that they would be followed. Sometimes, he went with a group of scouts to ride ahead—then, he would take Illieno with him, for Illieno was, for obvious reasons, an excellent scout. Illieno was also his protection, and he always felt more confident knowing that Illieno was watching his back.
Perhaps a lot of the jealousy had to do with the fact that Illieno—his best friend—was suddenly spending so much time with Ana and not with him. Guilt roiled in his stomach as Will recognized that he resented their easy friendship, for it had cost him the company of either of them.
Will looked out over the horizon, trying to hold back the scowl that wanted to creep onto his face. To his right, he could hear Illieno's bright voice sing-songing some stilly ballad or other while Ana giggled and Karma grinned. Lucas was a quiet but bulky presence to his left, and the five Own's men stretched out behind him like a shadow.
A movement in the distance caught his eye, and Will turned his head, looking north as he searched the horizon. A moment later, a rider crested the nearest hill, galloping on a course to intercept them. The man was dressed like a scout or hunter, in dark greens and browns that blended into the landscape.
Will pointed out the rider to Lucas, but it was Illieno who commented, "Looks like he's got some news for us."
Will held up an arm to indicate a change of pace, and reigned in Darkness so that the scout could catch up with them.
The rider pulled up fast next to them, pausing only to bow deeply, before he navigated his horse into the space next to Lucas.
"Your Majesty," he said breathily, bowing his head, "Lord Commander…Champion Ana…Spymaster,"
"Yes, yes," Illieno piped in, winking at the younger man, "We are all acquainted, why don't you tell us who you are and what news you have for us."
The scout blinked, his youthful face revealing his astonishment and awe for a moment, before he steeled himself for his report.
"I am Ian Billows," he stammered, blushing. "A group of us were scouting the countryside north and east of here," he said, looking timidly up at them, "and we came upon a little village where there were no men, only women and children and the occasional old gaffer too old to ride to war," The man paused—well, boy really, Will thought. He couldn't have claimed more than fifteen years, for his features were just beginning to lose their boyish softness, just beginning to harden into the planes of manhood. He took in a deep breath, and then the words rushed out in a torrent, "They are in real trouble, they are, cause a nest of spidrens has moved into the cavern beneath the waterfalls and they keep attacking people and lots of pets have disappeared…"
"How far away is this village?" Lucas asked, "Could we make it there before sunset?"
The boy bobbed his head, pointing in a diagonal line across the hills, "It is about an hours ride in that direction," he said, "The spidren's nest is a little bit farther north, past the village and through a bit of woodland."
"Thank you for this information, Ian Billows of River Falls," Will said, nodding in acknowledgement. Ian Billow's blush deepened as he looked at his King, but his eyes also shown with pride as Will said, "You will take us to your village and we will take care of the problem." He turned to look at Illieno and his eye could not help but see Ana in the background, her face unreadable as she looked at him. "Lucas and I will take a dozen of the Own's fastest riders—I want archers and swordsmen—and we will catch up with you this evening, if all goes smoothly. If not, we will rejoin you when we can, but keep moving, for we cannot afford to delay our journey."
Ana's face transformed as he finished speaking. "You want me to ride on ahead while you dash off to go spidren-hunting?" She said incredulously, crossing her arms as she frowned at him. "I don't think so."
Will felt his anger boil to the surface of his mind, and he returned her scowl for scowl. He well remembered the results of her last entanglement with spidrens, and he did not want her to have to face the memories of that encounter. He did not want her to go, for he did not want her exposed to danger when he could so easily go in her stead.
Illieno was frowning at him as well. "I ride where you ride, Will," he said flatly. "You aren't leaving me behind."
"Some one needs to lead the army onward," Will said, trying to sound reasonable. Mostly he just sounded petulant, however.
Ana's scowl darkened, "They know where we are going better than I do," she retorted.
"Ana makes a good point," Lucas said quickly, laying a hand on Will's tense shoulders. "As Champion it is her duty to respond to such threats." He did not need to add, "And as King it is your place to lead the army on," but Will heard the unspoken reminder in his words. He clenched his jaw but nodded, ashamed that Lucas had had to remind him of his duty. But he was also irked at the way he'd been navigated—he felt like they'd all turned on him.
"Besides," added Illieno, with false levity. "If Ana and Firedance were allowed to set the pace we'd all drop dead of exhaustion before Li Dubyn even gets a chance at us, the way she and that pretty filly bound from place the place."
"Goddess bless your mission," Will said, trying to keep the irritation from his tone, "Report to me when you get back."
Then he leaned forward on Darkness's back, pressing his heels into the stallion's sides. Darkness responded with an effortless change of gait, falling into a loping canter as the King pulled out ahead of the army of Tortall. The honor guard stretched out behind him like a shadowy cape, followed by the regimented ranks of the King's Own, then the motley collection of knights, and nobility, tribesmen and men-at-arms , mages and healers and tradesmen that made up the largest portion of the army.
But his mind was centered on the score of people that peeled off from the greater whole, riding north and east across the grassy plain. He could see the glint of sunlight off the vibrant red of Ana's hair as she galloped away from him, and he felt the terror rise up in his throat once again.
~:~
"Goddess bless your mission," Will snapped, his face tight with repressed anger. "Report to me when you get back."
Then he turned his face away, and Darkness leapt into a smooth canter, the stallion's strides as long and measured as if they were charging into battle. The five Own's men followed close behind him, keeping pace with their King as was their place.
Illieno sighed loudly, blowing out his cheeks. "I think we are going to have to continue this later, ladies," he said. "Excuse me while I go placate the drama queen."
"What is a drama queen?" Ana asked, as she frowned after Will's retreating back.
"Mr. Angst up there would serve as a decent definition at the moment." Illieno rejoined, rolling his eyes. "Ride swiftly, but safely, little ones." He continued, nodding at Ana and Karma. "I miss you already."
Ana laughed, but her face was troubled as she turned away, following behind Lucas and the dozen of the King's Own he'd gathered. It comforted him to know that Karma would be looking after her, for—though he knew Ana was capable enough—she was also a trouble magnet.
Then he put his feet to Eclipse's sides, letting the stallion stretch his legs as he caught up to where Will rode, with the honor guard a consummate v behind him.
Illieno swung Eclipse smoothly into the center of the v, keeping pace with Will and Darkness. They were riding too swiftly for conversation, but the fierce scowl that twisted Will's face and the taunt, tense lines of his body spoke volumes about his friend's agitation. Illieno knew Will needed to just ride it out, to channel the anger and the jealousy and the resentment into the movement of his horse and the feeling of the landscape whipping past them.
He rode with Will, knowing that it was likely to be some time before Will accepted the circumstances and regained his perpetual composure. He waited patiently for his friend to work it all through, though he waited invisibly, for he found patience easier to come by when he was unseen.
The day unfolded before them, and the miles disappeared beneath the steady gait of their horses, filled only with the sound of the thunderous pounding as multiple hooves struck hard dirt.
~:~
Will paced the length of his tent, feeling caged by the close quarters of the canvas walls. He wished for the comfortable circuit of his rooms in the palace—here, he could not properly stretch out his legs, for just when he was getting into the movement he would hit a wall and have to turn.
Time. Time was slipping away from him again. He could feel it, spinning out of his control. He felt that come end was coming, coming to him swifter than he had prepared for.
Yet every minute felt like an hour, and every hour an eternity as he waited for Ana to return. He paced and fidgeted and scowled at the slow progress of the sun's crawl across the sky.
But the sun had long set and still they had not returned. He worried that something may have befallen them. Perhaps he should have sent more men…
"Stop it Will," Illieno snapped, suddenly. He appeared in Will's path, his arms folded across his chest. "I've had enough of this pacing and fretting. It's driving me loony." He unfolded one arm long enough to poke him sharply in the arm, then retracted it again. "You can't ignore me forever, and you won't feel any better unless you let go of some of that baggage that you insist on hauling about."
"What do you want me to say, Illieno?" Will asked, frowning at him. "What secrets do I have that you do not already know or think that you know?"
"Lets start simply." Illieno said, "What are you going to do about Ana?"
Will threw up his hands in exasperation, "You call that starting simply?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "I hate to guess what your follow up might be."
"Oh come on, Will!" Illieno snapped, "Even I know that there are times for seriousness. I think in this moment it is warranted." He leaned forward, intruding on Will's personal space. "Are you jealous? Is that why you give me the silent treatment?" He asked. Then he stood back, his hands down at his sides. "Are you really angry with me for being friends with Ana or are you only angry at yourself, for not having the courage to befriend her?"
"Jealous?" Will barked. "Yes, I am jealous of you. I am jealous of how easy you are around her and how easy she is around you. I am jealous of everyone she is so easy with."
Illieno rolled his eyes. "Whose fault is that?" He questioned, "Do you think you are helping your chances with her by ignoring her?"
Will stared at Illieno, startled by the empty dread he felt at his friend's words. "I do not know how to approach her," Will whispered, looking away from Illieno's green gaze. "I do not know, for I do not know what she wants of me." Anger tightened his jaw again, and his words came through clenched teeth. "I do not understand her and her moods, for she reacts so unexpectedly these days."
Illieno snorted. "For a very observant man you can be so blind sometimes," he said, "Can't you see that Ana needs to feel useful? She needs to feel like she has some measure of control over what happens to her—she needs to be given a choice."
"How do you know that?" Will asked him, "Has she told you that?"
Illieno crossed his arms again. "Not in so many words," he said evasively.
Will glowered at him. "Has she spoken to you about me?" he asked, wondering if Illieno's loyalty to Ana would prevent him from sharing his information. His fears were unwarranted, however for Illieno said, "She doesn't talk to me about you—she talks about everything but you—but I have an inside source that's very reliable." Illieno grinned at him, and Will knew he meant Karma. "Trust me; she wants your attention as much as you want hers, but she's caught up in the Imp's spell like the rest of us and it's putting her on edge." Illieno's grinned died, and then he murmured, "It's putting us all on edge."
Will put his hand on Illieno's shoulder.
"You are right," he said quietly. "We must not forget the Imp's spell, must not surrender to the tension which seeks to pull us apart"
Illieno reached up to grip Will's hand and then he became invisible.
Will felt himself pulled along through the anchor of their hands, into the nothingness.
It truly felt like nothingness, being insubstantial. It never ceased to startle him, the feeling of invisibility, though it had been years since Illieno had mastered the trick of casting his ability away from his body. He still needed physical contact, however, and whenever he brought Will with him to that place between here and there, where he was not just unnoticed, but truly unseen, Will was always unsettled by the transition.
But this time it staggered him, for when Illieno made them invisible he could feel the tension slide from him like oily film sloughing from his skin in hot bath water. The difference was astonishing. He felt like the world had just become sharper, clearer, more focused.
He knew exactly what he needed to do, but he no longer feared doing it. Instead, he felt a jittery anticipation. He had lived with the tension for so long that he had almost forgotten what it was like to be pleasantly nervous.
He needed to tell Ana how he felt before it was too late, to let her choose the path they would take from her on out. He needed to find the words to make her understand, to find a way into her world, her heart.
"I will make my peace with her tonight," Will said, "before the war council." He took in a deep breath, then let it go.
He could not see him, but Will felt Illieno's hand tighten on his own. "It is the right thing to do," Illieno's voice said, gently. "Sometimes you just need to put all your cards on the table to see what kind of hand you have."
"I know." Will murmured. He took a step backward, and when their contact broke he snapped back into the world, the world where the air hummed with underlying tension. But he stiffened his resolve and held the tension at bay, holding on to the hope that had been planted in his chest.
~ ~:~ ~
