Dreamwalker

Dreamwalker

Angela Wallace

Copyright 2012

Smashwords Edition

Cover art by Fantasia Frog Designs

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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Chapter I

Lexa melded with the shadows. They swirled along the edges of the room and up the walls like gray flames, marking the boundaries of the dream she had stepped into. It was night in the dream. A fire flickered in the hearth, mirrored in the orange glows from the watchtowers that cast a soft hue across the windowsill and balcony. Outside and far below, the capital city of Artour never slept. Its nightlife was as vibrant and exciting as that of the day, both active with theatre and taverns. The grand city was lit like a festival all year round, and music never ceased to play in the streets. Yet here in this dream construct, no sound could be heard.

Lexa waited, watching Garret stoop over the scattered contents of his desk. He looked up as though noticing the quiet. Running a hand over his chin, he paused and scratched at the week’s worth of growth shadowing his face. A frown tipped the corners of his mouth. He glanced at the shadows curling in the corners and across the ceiling.

Lexa?

She stepped from the mist. The shadows parted from her skin and clothes until she appeared solid. Faint firelight gleamed in her brown eyes and cast amber streaks of flame across her dark hair.

Garret leaned back in his seat with a smile. I only know I’m dreaming when you’re around.

Sorry to break the illusion, she said with a rueful smile. Her gaze roved over the ceiling-high bookshelves and worn tapestries depicting forests and hunting expeditions. I would have expected something a little more exciting. Why were you thinking of home?

I wish I was here more than anything right now.

Where are you?

On the edge of the Elda Mountains. We’re preparing to engage the Teltans in the morning.

Lexa whipped her head up. I didn’t think war had broken out so soon. She had heard of the growing tension between Artasia and its neighboring country, Teltania, but a tenuous peace had maintained balance. Or so she thought. Living in the mountains did isolate her from most of the goings-on in the country. It’s why she had moved out there.

War has been brewing for a while. Garret ran a hand through his hair. It was getting long, longer than Lexa knew he preferred. The king of Teltania is ill and his advisor is ruling in his stead. Two weeks ago a traders’ caravan was ambushed and murdered near the border and Teltania is blaming us. Last week one of our ships was sunk in the south sea and we’re blaming Teltania. He shook his head. There’s plenty of hate and accusations to go around. No proof, mind you.

Lexa looked toward the window, squinting her eyes as though she could see through the dreamy haze shrouding the city. Is Tobiah with you?

No. He was ordered to ride down the coast and watch for attacks by sea.

Worry tightened her gut. Garret was alone. Well, he was probably captaining an infantry and therefore surrounded by hundreds of soldiers, but that shouldn’t have been his assignment.

Hey, he said, and reached a hand toward her. His fingers brushed her sleeve before dropping to settle on the desk. You don’t need to worry.

I should be there with you, she said in a soft voice, even as her heart quailed against the thought. She could never go back, not after everything that had happened. Garret didn’t even know the whole story, the real reason she left the Guard and fled to the Haven, the sanctuary in the mountains. He thought it was Cara’s death, and while that day plagued her, it was only the catalyst. They had been a superior team of five, serving and protecting the Council. Then Cara died, and after that Mathias retired to go into politics, becoming the Council they were to protect.

Lexa, Garret, and his brother Tobiah could have served the new Council, just the three of them, but Mathias had come to her with an assignment she refused to carry out. She left that night and never looked back. Except to once in a while check on Garret in his dreams.

She dropped her gaze to the floor. I’m sorry I haven’t been by in a while.

Your work at the Haven is important, he offered. She had to hide her smirk. Important, yes, but for whom? It was no warrior’s home. The look on Garret’s face said he agreed with her silent sentiment, but he would never press her on it. That was something he had always known how to give her: space.

Lexa met his eyes and attempted a weak smile. Be careful, Garret.

He stood up and looked like he wanted to embrace her, but held himself back. He laid a hand on her shoulder instead. You deserve some peace, Lexa.

Perhaps, but she doubted she would ever find it. She brought her arm up to clasp his shoulder and squeezed. With a parting nod, Lexa turned into the shadows and melted into them. She left his mind and returned to the dreamscape, the land just beyond the veil of one’s sleeping subconscious. Unable to return to the illusion of dreaming, Garret’s mind forced him awake, sending him back to his shabby and wind-torn tent miles from the warmth of home.

~~~

Lexa tossed another pile of hay into the horse’s stall. The mare ate in silence while her neighbors chirped and pawed for their breakfasts. Lexa rolled the three-tiered cart down to the next stall in a line of twenty, though not all housed occupants. The Haven currently boarded five horses of their own and seven wild animals in need of sanctuary or rehabilitation. Their diets were diverse, ranging from grains to meat, which could get expensive if the capital didn’t subsidize the Haven’s supply needs. Even with the financial ties, the Haven maintained autonomous operation, giving Lexa the freedom she desired.

That is the stableman’s job, a voice interrupted her working.

The stableman is sleeping, Lexa replied. Master Oldion never made much noise, yet Lexa’s trained senses always alerted her when someone was near. Even the soft brush of his robe across the grass tipped her off. She couldn’t be sure if he tried to catch her by surprise on purpose, but so far he hadn’t succeeded.

Yes, something I don’t suppose you ever do?

She turned with a lopsided grin toward the Elder and keeper of the Haven. His green eyes, pale from age and hidden by lines of wrinkles, were kind and full of wisdom. His robe with its billowing sleeves made him look better suited to standing in a library than a dusty stable. That didn’t stop him from picking up bits of chopped meat and tossing them into the griffon’s stall.

Lexa moved to the next. She whistled to the tiger, but he remained lying in the corner, and turned his head away from the food she offered.

He does not wish to keep living, the Master remarked.

Green forests, rich mountain air, quiet—what more could he want?

Companionship.

Tigers are solitary creatures. Lexa left the meat in case the animal changed his mind.

Even solitary creatures need some love. He paused. An old man is not fulfilling companionship.

Lexa suppressed an audible sigh. When she had first arrived on the Haven’s doorstep, the Master took her in without question, almost as though he had been expecting her. He gave her chores and responsibilities, and managed to check up on her without seeming to. He knew about her dreamwalking, presumably from the capital, and they had struck up a partnership in studying it. Lexa appreciated his kind and solid presence, but he always seemed to want more from her. She couldn’t change, though, couldn’t be a different person.

I have companionship. Everyone here is a friend.

You mean to say you are a friend to everyone here, but do you give any of them the chance to return the favor?

There’s a difference?

An important one, yes. He folded his arms into the giant, rippling sleeves of his robe.

She tossed more hay into another herbivore’s stall. Why does it matter?

Master Oldion gave her a sympathetic smile. Because I hate to see a majestic tiger lose her will to live.

Lexa patted his arm. That will never happen. I’ll see you after the midday meal to continue working on the dreamscape. Master Oldion nodded and left her and the animals alone.

Once she finished, she updated the food and supply chart in the storage shed, and then walked through the garden near the gate, plucking small sprouts of weeds and removing lost pebbles from the stone walkway. Maintaining the Haven’s appearance of a sacred garden was a full-time job.

The sound of clattering hooves drew her attention to the large archway where a white horse carrying a young woman trotted into the courtyard. Lexa grabbed the reins and held the horse as the girl dismounted. Her cheeks were flushed with a rosy hue from the mountain air and framed by wild strands of blond hair that escaped her braid.

What’s your hurry, Gwyn? Lexa asked. You weren’t expected back until late this morning.

It’s a nice day for a brisk ride, that’s all. Gwyn swiped some hair out of her face.

How’s your mother?

She’s well. Still trying to entice me with potential matches.

Lexa hid her smile. There weren’t too many young and beautiful girls who would devote their lives to service at the Haven, but Gwyn had a genuine heart for helping. And a strong aversion to being pushed into conventions. Should she meet the right man who accepted