Erde had observed Wasser’s handling of Lealé with admiration, but she did wonder how much his/her true nature the boy/dragon thought was safe to reveal. Something that Lealé had said provoked this display of strength. Apparently Wasser had decided that the woman had information he needed to know sooner rather than later.
“What kind of spirit might this be that visits Mistress Lealé?” she asked, thinking to gentle the moment away from confrontation.
“There are no spirits,” Wasser replied gravely, with his eyes still fixed on Lealé. He looked as though he might pin her to the ground if she but moved an inch.
“No spirits?” Lealé managed. “But I . . .”
“There are only Powers, and humans with a gift. I am one such, and I wish to know what other seeks my end.”
It was a tone she had never heard out of Wasser or even Water, before. Quiet, but full of intimations of ancient strength and grandeur. Erde backed away a step and sat down along the wall. She saw N’Doch do the same, both of them leaving the floor to what both of them knew was a dragon with a serious purpose in mind.
“First, describe this ‘spirit’ to me. Don’t leave out the smallest detail.”
Lealé’s brow creased. “I don’t see what . . .”
“Not the smallest detail. I do not ask without reason.”
“What if he hears and comes after me?”
“I will protect you.”
Lealé grinned weakly. “I think you’ll have to grow some before you take him on.”
“If it will make you feel more confident.” And right there in front of her, he did, each moment looking less and less like a little boy and more like a man. Erde saw N’Doch ease himself backward along the wall.
Lealé stared, caught between terror and curiosity. But she was not undone, having already lived much of her life with the miraculous and inexplicable. “What is your gift?” she asked shakily.
O clever dragon, Erde thought. Offer a choice of truths and let the hearer make the wrong one.
“I have many. Tell us about your dream-giver.”
Lealé blew air softly between pursed lips. “Well, he is very vain . . . he’ll probably love hearing me describe him. He’s very handsome, you see. . . .”
“He’s human, a man? He comes to you as a man?”
“Oh, yes, he surely does. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, with perfect ebony skin and the flashing golden eyes of a warrior.”
“He’s got gold eyes?” N’Doch asked dubiously.
Lealé was caught up in her description now. “As gold as the rising sun. And his voice is very deep and resonant.”
“Of course it is,” muttered N’Doch. “And he’s able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.”
“How is it that I look as I do?” Wasser reminded him quietly. “There are humans with the gift to take on the aspect most desired.”
N’Doch glared at him. “You are certainly not what I most desired.”
“Consider it further, my brother.”
Erde was grateful when N’Doch folded into a thoughtful silence for a while. It was clear to her, as it would have been to any woman, that Lealé’s relationship with this “spirit guide” was rather complicated. She seemed now to be consulting her inner portrait of him, or it, and her expression had grown definitely dreamy.
“He has very big hands with unusually long nails, which he keeps up very carefully. In fact, he paints them.”
“Yes,” replied Wasser softly. “Long nails. Anything else?”
Lealé giggled briefly. “Oh, he won’t like me telling you this, but it’s his choice, so he must think it makes him look good.” She lowered her voice to a breathy gossip’s whisper. “He always wears a lot of gold jewelry. All sorts of it, anywhere you can imagine! Places even I wouldn’t have imagined!” She sat back with a pretense of offended modesty. “Isn’t that peculiar?”
N’Doch started to chuckle but Wasser only grew grimmer.
“Ah. Golden eyes, golden metal,” the boy/dragon said tightly, turning to gaze out on the grove again. “What color does he paint his long nails?”
“Gold! What else?” Lealé leaned forward intimately. “And detailed with exquisite miniatures of beautiful naked women, a different one on each nail—I mentioned he was vain, didn’t I?” She grinned as if it were a great joke, but Wasser’s tense back told Erde that it was not.
“What else?” The boy/dragon now seemed the reluctant one, and Lealé the eager raconteur, spurred on by N’Doch’s appreciative laughter.
“He has a right to be vain, beautiful as he is, but he’s also very proud. He’s always boasting of how powerful he is. And he has a terrible temper!”
“What does he do?” asked N’Doch.
“Oh, he can’t actually do anything physical, but he can take my Dreams away and make my life completely miserable!”
Wasser turned. “He cannot manifest?”
Lealé shook her head.
“A Power, then, surely,” Wasser concluded. “It’s as I feared.”
But N’Doch looked enormously relieved. “Then he’s not gonna be, like, jumping out of bushes to slit my throat or anything.”
“Not him, no.”
“So what does it matter?”
Lealé’s mouth tightened. “You can’t imagine how much it matters. His tongue is as lethal as any blade.”
“. . . as corrosive as acid,” murmured Wasser from the doorway.
“Yes,” she said to his back. “Exactly.”
“O, I fear, I fear,” he whispered, as if to himself.
N’Doch shook his head. “Not me, man. I’m real glad to know some spook who’s said he wants me dead can’t actually make it happen.”
Wasser sighed, as if exhausted. “Anything more you can tell us?”
Lealé shrugged. “Well, let’s see . . . he smokes.”
N’Doch laughed out loud. “You got a spirit that smokes?”
“No.” Wasser turned toward Lealé, his face darkened by shadows and foreboding. “He comes in smoke. He comes wreathed in its tendrils, as if accompanied, and perhaps here and there a touch of flame.”
“Yes,” breathed Lealé. “How did you know?”
“You know who this is,” Erde murmured.
“I have an inkling now, oh, yes, I do, a terrible inkling. But perhaps this is his idea of a prank, a way to make his presence known and demonstrate his superiority at the same time.”
“A prank?” repeated Lealé, sobering. “No, I don’t think so. Not when I tell you how many ways he’d figured out that I could murder you. If he’s who you think he is, would he want you out of the way so badly?”
“If he’s who I think he is, he is capable of anything.”
“Hold it . . .” broke in N’Doch. “I thought you said he couldn’t . . .”
“If he can’t manifest a physical presence in this plane,” said Wasser impatiently, “he has only to coerce a human agent into doing his bidding. By giving them gifts, and promising great wonders.”
Staring down at her hands, Lealé nodded.
N’Doch snorted, scanning the dark walls, the invisible ceiling. “Wow. So maybe bringing us here is one of the ways, huh?”
“No,” said Lealé mildly.
“And why not?” Wasser inquired, just as mildly.
Her bittersweet smile seemed to be admitting to a fatal weakness. “He didn’t tell me it’d be killing children. I guess I just don’t have it in me.”
“I am glad of that, Mother Lealé.”
“But you know, he’ll only find someone to do what he wants. And, of course, I will be ruined. I should have known things don’t come this easy.” She thought for a moment, then frowned gently. “He got one thing wrong, though. He told me to expect four of you, not three.”
This seemingly minor bit of information seemed to drain the last gleam of hopeful doubt from Wasser’s eyes. He hunched, let out a soft moan. His whole outline seemed to waver.
N’Doch leaped to his feet. “No! Don’t do it! Not here!”
Erde moved to comfort him, but the boy/dragon caught him/herself and steadied. “It’s time we got out of here. I must warn my brother.” He started down the receding dark passage, then threw over his shoulder angrily, “My other brother!”