Chapter 32

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Aleen Durian Mendrel took the tray of breakfast food into the guestroom, already aware of her daughter’s presence there. The guard, Ralion, tried to stop her for that reason, but she only shook her head at him and he relented.

Loren was still soundly asleep. Earlier, when the other guard was at the door, Aleen had checked when she found Loren missing from her own room. It didn’t surprise her and she didn’t find it offensive or even immoral that her daughter was in bed with a man she wasn’t married to. After witnessing what Loren was capable of doing for this man, Aleen didn’t doubt that her daughter loved him. She hadn’t really doubted it before. She thought she should be happy that Loren had found someone after losing Matt.

But Loren hadn’t ever been prone toward making such rapid decisions regarding the men she chose to be with. She’d been notoriously picky in that regard, to the consternation of many. Matt hadn’t gotten a yes for a year and a half. Dynan Telaerin managed it in a day. Aleen found that out from Marc. She was a little overwhelmed by the swiftness of the decision to marry. Dynan wasn’t the only one in a hurry. Aleen thought she should be happy for them.

She knew it was fear that stopped her from putting her daughter’s happiness foremost. Aleen wanted to stop them because she was afraid. She almost couldn’t think of the notion that in six months time, Loren would be taken away from her, from the planet, with no clear idea when they might see each other again. She thought it might be forever. She couldn’t accept that. She couldn’t let go quite that much.

Grissam was only acting on her wishes, something Loren didn’t know yet. Aleen meant to tell her, but after their argument earlier, she was afraid Loren wouldn’t talk to Grissam, or he to her.

She stood by the door, holding the tray and watching Loren sleep. There was peace in her face, along with recently quenched fear. Aleen wanted to spare her more of that, but knew she couldn’t. She didn’t want her daughter to be in such danger, but couldn’t protect her from it. She wanted to know what was so special about this man that Loren would willingly face it herself.

Dynan breathed, stirring in his sleep. He’d been up at least once before, having put on a robe before getting back in bed with Loren and she had gotten out of her gown, but still wore a shift. Aleen smiled a little at that and started across with the tray. Dynan was awake before she set it down on the side table, taking a moment to focus on who was in the room.

It took another moment for the implications to sink in that Aleen hadn’t really wanted him to worry about. He was in bed with her daughter. He was meeting the mother of the woman he wanted to marry for the first time. Aleen could well imagine that this was not how he had wanted the encounter to go. She waved her hand at him to let him know that she wasn’t making that kind of judgment.

“How do you feel?” she whispered.

He didn’t answer, looking at her. He wasn’t seeing her as Loren’s mother, but as Loren a number of years from now. He recognized their similarities instantly and then he wasn’t looking anymore, but smiling to himself. He was still nervous, glancing at Loren, maybe to see if she was awake and could help him with this. He sat himself up a little and tried to hide a wince the movement caused him.

“Better,” he said in less than a whisper.

“Geneal said you had to drink all of this and eat all the food.” Aleen set the tray down over his lap. She handed him the cup of tea and nodded.

He took the cup and looked at the food. “Did she cook this?”

Aleen had been told to expect that question. “Yes, but I helped so it shouldn’t be too bad.”

Dynan didn’t believe her, but took a sip of the tea. Geneal had put something in it to help speed the healing process. Dynan knew it too. “One of the doctor’s specialties,” he said in a slightly stronger voice. “I shouldn’t complain.”

“If it helps make you feel better, you should be grateful for it.” She pulled in a breath and made sure that Loren was still asleep. “I hear that you want to marry my daughter.”

He froze for an instant, but then looked at her without any sense of hesitation. There was something else in his eyes. Conviction. Complete assurance that this was what he wanted, what they both wanted. The wariness left his face and he smiled when he nodded. He also understood that this was something that Aleen wasn’t so certain of. He knew all the reasons why. He knew what was at stake should she not agree and he didn’t want that. He didn’t want Loren to be put in the position of choosing. He knew what he was asking was a tremendous sacrifice for them both. She could see all of that in his face. He also didn’t know what to say and Aleen realized it wasn’t fair of her to put him in this position. Not after what had happened last night.

“I won’t let anything happen to her,” he said just as Aleen was about to tell him they could talk about it all later.

“I’m not so worried about something happening to her,” she said. “You’re so afraid that something could happen that I’m afraid you’ll get yourself killed keeping her from it. Loren knows how to take care of herself. She has for a number of years now. I don’t want my daughter sent home to me, shattered because you’re dead. You worry about keeping yourself safe and Loren will be fine.”

He didn’t know what to say again, but paused to think about what she said. He spent most of that time looking at Loren and finally he nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

“I had a long talk with Marc this morning,” she said and was looked at again. He had an openness about him. “So I know more about you than you probably want.”

“I hope you’ll take into account that Marc’s perspective is a little different from mine,” he said and decided he’d eat.

“He’s on your side,” she said, while he tried to swallow and keep a straight face. “But he’s a terrible liar.”

“I’m not so good at it myself.”

“That’s not what Marc’s father says. He came over here this morning. He and Col Eldin both. I know all the reasons why you didn’t tell him who you were. I can’t blame you there. I’ve known Meril for a number of years and I trust his opinions. I’ll be honest. I’m not too happy with the idea either, for different reasons. I’m not sure that you’ll be able to change my mind about it. Most of my difficulties don’t have easy solutions, or easy answers.”

“The story of my life,” he said and set his fork down. He’d eaten about half the food, as fast as could be politely consumed. That was more to get it over with. “I didn’t want to lie to anyone. I didn’t want to come here in the first place. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. But it has and I can’t change it, or that I fell in love with your daughter. I never expected her to be real, or that a dream I had would come true.”

“You dreamed about her,” she said, having heard this from Marc. “What happens in this dream?”

“We get married.”

“What makes you think that, specifically?”

“She’s wearing a dress, a wedding gown that just happens to be hanging in the clothier’s shop in Quilar.”

“There are many gowns that could be a wedding dress, but aren’t necessarily used for that purpose. What makes you so certain?”

He didn’t want to answer, or didn’t know how to. Aleen knew what he was going to say then, because of the flush of color that rose in his face. “Because the only way that what I saw happen later could happen at all, is if we’re married.”

Aleen started to ask him why, but then knew the answer again. He’d never been with a woman. She saw that in his eyes and she smiled at how circumspect he’d managed to be in letting her know that. “That would make you an unusual young man,” she said.

He gritted his teeth. “Well it seems to have been preordained to be this way. At least now I know why.”

“Will I be able to see her again, after you’ve taken her away?” she asked and saw the answer again.

“If it was up to just me, yes, but it isn’t. It’s up to five other people, who may not see it the same way I do.”

“Maybe the kind of people who don’t believe in dreams.”

“Some of them aren’t the type to understand it.”

Aleen nodded, fearing that would be the case. She knew that he would try to make those other people, the other leaders he had to deal with, allow him to return. She couldn’t hold it against him that he didn’t have the answer she wanted and found herself admiring him for his willingness to tell her the truth. He could have lied just as easily.

She’d heard all that she thought she wanted to for now. She’d tackle the others, about him being a Prince and Loren becoming a Queen, later. She had enough to think about for the time being. He seemed to realize that the interview was over. Aleen nodded to the rest of the food. “You’re supposed to eat all of it.”

He shook his head and set the tray back on the stand. “I think I’d rather get her to cook me a real breakfast.”

The noise he made setting the tray down woke Loren, though not completely. She rolled over, found him, and slid her hand across his chest. He stopped her quickly enough, but didn’t manage to forewarn her before she was kissing him. He wasn’t trying all that hard either. Aleen turned for the door.

“Good morning,” she heard him say. “You’re mother is here.”

Aleen laughed at the intake of breath and the soft groan, and left them alone. Ralion stood as soon as she came through the door. She almost told him that he didn’t need to stay, but then rethought herself. After last night, she expected the guard wouldn’t listen to her assurances of safety. Meril Talryn was back and coming up the stairs, plainly intent on talking to Dynan. “Meril, I just left him, so you’ll have to give him a chance to recover before you go in.”

“The High Chancellor is here.”

“Here? At my home? Here now?”

“Yes, Aleen. Here now.”

“Well then he’ll just have to wait as well, because His Highness is not presentable at the moment and neither is my daughter.” She glanced back at Ralion, raising an eyebrow at him. He nodded with a grimace and went into the room. She smiled at Meril as he realized what she meant. “Come help me detain.”

Ralion walked in without knocking while Dynan was telling Loren what her mother had just said and they got the news that the High Chancellor was there.

“Tell him to go away,” Loren said.

Dynan rubbed his face for a moment while Ralion told her he wouldn’t. He got out of bed, knowing there wouldn’t be any avoiding this meeting. He suspected the Chancellor would come to his bedside if necessary. Dynan felt mostly all right anyway, except for a moderate case of congestion. His arms hurt more than anything else and a place around his leg where the chain had dug in. Other than that, he thought he was pretty lucky to be alive.

He had to smile over that thought, still finding it an amazing phenomenon to feel that way. He went over to the big wardrobe where his things were stored. The clothes he was supposed to wear were already set aside. Just that made him feel more like a Prince than he had in years.

“Go get changed,” he said to Loren, cutting off the minor argument she was having with Ralion. They were mostly joking with each other anyway. She made a face at him and got out of bed, which was about the time Ralion realized she was wearing next to nothing. She picked up her gown and went out the door.

Ralion watched after Loren a moment, eyebrows raised and shaking his head slightly. He found Dynan practically glaring at him when he turned around. The guard bit back a smile. “Probably won’t be the last time that happens, so get used to it,” he said. “Need a hand?”

Ralion started taking clothes over to a stand meant for such things that stood by a low backed chair while Dynan kept frowning at him. “What have I missed?”

“Plenty,” Ralion said, then didn’t go on for a moment. “Don’t get mad,” he said. Dynan glanced at him, but Ralion wasn’t looking. “Sadek came here while we were all down at the pond. Apparently he wanted to see Marc’s reaction to your drowning and he didn’t know that Marc and Sheed had gotten out of the house. Sadek told Loren that you were already dead. She clobbered him over the head with a pan. One of those big, cast iron jobs they use here. He’s in the infirmary, tied to the bed, and under guard.”

Dynan nodded as calmly as he could, understanding why Ralion had prefaced the story with a warning not to get angry. “Where’s Sheed?”

“He went to bed an hour ago. I know he wasn’t supposed to leave her here, but if he hadn’t, you might still be at the bottom of that pond. He got back here as quickly as he could and managed to keep her from getting into the middle of a pitched battle.”

“A battle?”

Ralion nodded and glanced at him, explaining that part of it too. “Sheed got here in the middle of it all. Loren was on her way out the back door to get to you. We pulled in and there was Sadek’s guard scattered all over the grounds. Kint Bur had a change of heart and sent the Quilar guard, so it was over before it really got started.”

“But she was in the middle of it,” Dynan said and wanted to be angry that Sheed had allowed that to happen. He thought of what Loren’s mother had just told him.

“Safe and sound,” Ralion reminded him.

“It could have turned out differently.”

“Could have. Hopefully, the next time we’re faced with a situation like that, we won’t have to choose between staying with you or staying with her. We’re doing the best we can.”

“I know you are, Ralion.” He nodded to himself. “All right. I won’t be mad at Sheed for leaving her. He had good reason and he thought she was safe. I know all that. Maybe I should be mad at her for getting into the middle of it all.”

“Won’t do any good,” Ralion said with a smile and then he was trying not to laugh. “Maybe we should give her a medal for taking care of Sadek for us. And you should probably avoid making her angry when you’re in the kitchen. You should see the size of that pan.”

Dynan smiled for a moment, but ended up shivering over the circumstances. He knew what kind of fear had prompted such a response. He hated that she’d been put in that position, doubting he’d ever be able to accept her facing any kind of danger. “Maybe I should be mad at myself,” he said and felt that way. Maybe he could have done something differently.

“Well, you are the guy in charge,” Ralion said.

“Yes, that’s right, and I’m supposed to be able to tell those of you who aren’t the guy in charge what to do. And?”

“And sometimes we don’t listen to you,” Ralion said, not really looking at all remorseful.

“And?”

“It’s still your fault.”

“That’s what I thought. Seems to me that the guy in charge should have more of a problem with this.”

Ralion nodded and helped him with his jacket, then turned him around to straighten out the lace collar of his shirt. “Well you look like you’re supposed to ... mostly.”

Ralion grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked, meaning he thought it was too long. Dynan shoved back, which didn’t move the guard at all. “Where’s my box?”

“In the drawer.”

Dynan got out the small box that held all the valuables. Xavier had picked it up on his way out of the Palace six years ago. There was a sapphire pin for his collar about the size of a gold piece. There were a couple of rings he could have put on, but didn’t, using the pin for what was practical rather than any sense of ostentation. Ralion handed him a brush.

“You need a haircut.”

“No.”

“Carryn will take one look at you and make you cut it off.”

“It isn’t any longer than it was two years ago, or mostly,” he amended. Actually, it was a good bit longer than it had been, so Ralion was right. He’d take care of that later and finished getting it all in place. He thought he looked fine. So did Loren. That was as far as his concern went.

“I think you look fine too,” Marc said from the door as he came in.

“You match,” Ralion said.

“Except for that giant rock,” Marc said and took a closer look at it. “Where’d you get it?”

“My mother,” Dynan said and looked out the door for Loren. He figured they’d all be waiting on her. It always took girls longer to get ready. “Get any sleep?”

“A little. Enough,” Marc said. “After this meeting is over, I’m going into town and I won’t be back until late. Prior commitment.”

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” Ralion said. “Anyone who came here with us could end up being a target.”

“Alden is sending some of the boys along with me,” Marc said. “I’ll be fine.”

“What commitment?” Dynan asked.

At that, Marc smiled. “You’ll have to come see. We’ve got twenty guards here at the house, all of them from Quilar, to go with you wherever you might want to go. The rest are stationed along the way. They all know that when you hit town, they’re to close up, and keep an eye on everyone around us. The Crey Guards know to stay back. They all feel pretty bad about what happened. I know most of them too. They were following orders. They were just unsure enough about it to go along. Sadek can be very persuasive when he needs to be and it worked. They know better now, and what doubts they had about you don’t exist anymore. I think you should give them a second chance.”

Dynan waited through all that, having his concerns answered without the chance to voice them. Ralion was waiting too and Dynan turned to him. “You’re in charge of security. It’s up to you. I don’t want to think about it.”

Loren came in finally, needing help with the lacing of her gown. She had put her hair up, looking exquisite in a gown of soft rose. Dynan kissed the nape of her neck while he helped her, because he could. Marc and Ralion headed out the door. Loren was full of questions about how he felt, fussing with his clothes for a moment.

“I feel fine. Where’d did you get this?” he asked of the gown.

“My mother.”

“She has perfect tastes,” he said and kissed her again. “I like her. At least I know what I have to look forward to. Like her daughter, she is a beautiful woman, and I am the luckiest man alive.”

“Well you won’t be if we stay up here much longer. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready. Are you?”

She nodded and took his hand. “Nervous?”

“A little.”

She nodded to that too. “You know, Grissam has already said no.”

“How can he say no to something he hasn’t been asked?” Dynan said easily and led her to the stairs. “Don’t lose your temper.”

“I already have.”

“Will you hate me if it turns out we get along? I can’t imagine any man who’s married to your mother being all bad.”

“Maybe, but I’d more likely question your judgment. He’s impossible.”

He shook his head and as they walked took her hand and set it on his arm, just back from his wrist. “This is how you get escorted.”

“Like this?”

“You’ll see everyone’s eyes widen when we walk in.”

Loren didn’t look like she believed him. “Why is that?”

“They’ll be impressed. Trust me.”

“You seem awfully sure of yourself.”

“That’s half the battle,” he said, keeping his voice low. They were getting too close to where everyone was waiting. “If you look like you’re sure of what you’re doing, they’ll believe it. Believing it makes them think that you know what you’re doing.”

“It does?”

“There’s only one problem with that. When they think you know what you’re doing, you have to be smart enough to actually know what you’re doing.”

“Oh,” she said and looked at him. “Are you?”

“Smart enough? Sometimes.” He flashed her a smile and then they were at the door to the parlor.

Inside the large room, the High Chancellor stood by the fireplace mantle. Dynan picked him out just by the way he carried himself. Meril and Col were with him, as were a number of other men that Dynan didn’t know. One of those was a Bishop of Faith. Aleen and Grissam Mendrel stood on hand to receive them. Marc and Ralion were just inside the door. Ralion straightened, coming to attention, which was what he’d normally do when Dynan walked into a formal gathering like this one. As predicted, everyone turned, eyes widening at the presentation the two of them made.

“You are smart,” Loren whispered, trying to keep a straight face.

“Sometimes,” he said and turned to Aleen as she came to greet them. He took her hand and kissed her. “My Lady.”

“Your Highness,” she said, seeming at complete ease using that designation. Dynan wasn’t so used to it anymore. “You look well.”

“Thank you. I feel better.” Aleen turned to Grissam and introduced him. Dynan held out his hand so that he wouldn’t think he had to bow. Grissam had almost started to and a measure of relief crossed his face. “I wanted to apologize, my Lord, for bringing all this trouble to your home,” Dynan said, “and to thank you for allowing me to stay here. I think originally, I was supposed to stay at the inn.” He turned to Ralion for the answer.

“Yes Your Highness, at the Crossroads.”

Grissam looked at him from under bushy grey eyebrows. He had a beard and hair of the same color, shot through with strands of black. Grissam wasn’t as tall as Dynan and barely as tall as Aleen. “It hasn’t been as much trouble as you imagine,” he said, “and the circumstances weren’t your doing. You’re welcome here, for this visit to Crey and we’ll both hope that more trouble avoids us.”

“I’m all for that.” He let some of the nervousness he felt show on his face as he glanced to the High Chancellor, who was nodding to something the Bishop told him.

“He’s a good man,” Grissam said. “I don’t pretend to know what all this business with you is about, but he’ll treat you fairly. Come, I’ll introduce you.”

The High Chancellor of Bremin Territory turned to greet him. He was large all around, covered in a long coat that went down to the floor. His hair was red and extremely short. He seemed about Drake’s age, or a little older, mid-forties maybe. His dark eyes were discerning behind a kind face. He wore a pendant around his neck on a thick chain that bore the same image of a dragon clutching an orb in its claws. This one was painted, showing more detail than the coins. The dragon was blue.

Dynan closed his eyes for a moment, waiting for the vision to leave him. No one seemed to notice his momentary hesitation. They were all turned to Grissam while he made the formal introductions. High Chancellor Karl Aleron smiled broadly and took Dynan’s hand. “It’s an honor and pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. I, and others, who knew that you would come, have waited long for this day. You have my personal thanks and the gratitude of all Bremin Territory for saving us, yet again, from the schemes of men like Sadek and his rebels. Through the selfless bravery of you and your men, we are saved from disaster.”

Dynan smiled at all the compliments, silently wondering what the Chancellor thought was so brave about nearly drowning. He thanked him for the sentiment and Aleron turned to Loren.

“You’re to be commended as well, my Lady. I understand that Sadek has yet to regain consciousness, but I am sorry that you were ever placed in such a position that required you to defend yourself. Especially one as enchanting as you.” The Chancellor smiled at Dynan. “It’s easy to see why you wish to marry. Congratulations, Your Highness.”

Aleron turned to the Bishop of Faith, who turned out to be the High Bishop of Bremin Territory, Leven Eran. He wore the ring of signs that Dynan had seen before on Cobalt’s High Bishop. Normally, he’d be required to kiss the ring, but here he wasn’t sure.

“Yes,” Marc told him before Dynan had a chance to ask, so there wasn’t any hesitation before he performed the task. “That just earned you some points with him.”

“Thanks, Marc, really. Now do you think you can tune out for a minute?” The High Bishop was asking him how he’d known about that particular ritual. Dynan wasn’t going to say it was because Marc Talryn told him so. “Our Faiths are similar, Eminence. This ring that you wear has seven points. To me, they represent the seven Gods.”

“And the sphere represents to us the one God who binds them all in unity,” Eran said.

“Bishop Solier told me that this is a recent change in the words of Faith and I was wondering when this happened.”

“Not so recent, but it is only in the last seventy years that it’s been an accepted change. Two hundred years ago, a man by the name of Pelan Torb experienced what was determined to be true vision. He was told of the joining of the Gods into one mind, one voice.”

Dynan nodded to all that and decided to get to the point, turning to the Chancellor. “What exactly is it that you expect of me, sir?”

“Many things, most of which you have already accomplished. Not by our design, for it wasn’t my wish that your identity be revealed the way it was. Our Book of Ages hinted at some danger for myself. It also alluded to the troubles in Quilar. Nothing in it is so specific, except for a few key passages that identify you as the one we’ve been looking for. Your ship is described and from what Col tells me, it’s an accurate depiction. I have the Book with me if you would like to see for yourself.”

The Chancellor turned and the High Bishop stepped aside, both of them gesturing to an ancient, but well-preserved book that rested on a nearby table. Its cover was plain, save for the title, which stood out in gold letters. A blue ribbon, tasseled at either end lay through the book, marking some passage perhaps. Dynan felt every eye turn to him as he moved to open the book.

It was beautifully scribed with colored inks and a steady hand. The Book of Ages, the title read, as told by A. Arturin Talryn to Eligrin Baer, scribe. Dynan glanced at Marc and had a feeling if the record existed, they’d find out that Marc was Arturin’s ancestor. The design etched on his sword stood out on the next page.

Interspersed throughout the pages were other drawings. Dynan wondered if they expected him to read it all, something that would take hours. He realized as he started to skim through it that he’d read parts of it already from Loren’s book. It told him the same thing; that thousands of telepaths had once lived here, building great cities and living in peace. Something happened to change that, but it wasn’t clear what that was.

He found a picture of a blue dragon that lay curled around a large globe of crystal, protecting it, it seemed. The text that accompanied the picture didn’t speak of dragons, to Dynan’s relief, but of a war between the Alcasians and the telepaths. He turned to another page and suddenly recognized the drawing.

There was a dragon throwing a ball of light into a wraith. There were people depicted running away in fear. He started then, when he saw himself in the picture, looking up at the huge beasts battling overhead. Mental images of the real thing flashed through his mind, shaking him. It came to him disjointed and blurred as if through a thick piece of glass and came with a headache that started at the base of his skull.

The High Chancellor was watching him. “We’ve always interpreted them as allegorical, rather than literal representations of what happened here.”

Dynan glanced up at that and then noticed Ralion wore a look of recognition and knowledge, until he noticed Dynan looking at him. He stopped watching, but he was worried. Dynan couldn’t ask him about what, or why it had something to do with these drawings, which meant it had something to do with the dreams.

“The blue dragon represents those telepaths who fought against the evil will of the others, represented by the wraith.”

Maybe there weren’t hundreds, the thought came in, but just two.

The next drawing showed the dragon dead and the crystal ball shattered. The downfall of society, the High Chancellor said.

Separated by a thousand years, standing on the brink once again.

Dynan put his fingers to his temple and searched for the crystal ball with the other hand until he had it out, enclosing it within his fist, but then Loren came and relaxed his grip when she took his hand in hers. She looked at the book and then to him, but he couldn’t explain. Not here and not in front of these people. Marc joined them, looking over his shoulder, and he put a hand to Dynan’s back.

The headache eased and Dynan thought he could breathe again. Until the next page.

He remembered it.

A round shelf of stone deep inside a mountain crag was circuited by pillars and surrounded a black altar. Six wraiths stood arrayed around it.

He felt Loren’s hand in his again. “You’ve seen this before,” she said.

He nodded. He thought if he dared he could take a step forward and end up there, whole, living and pitted in a battle to survive the place. He knew it and knew he’d been there before. He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten out, felt the pain in his head and knew he should stop trying.

The last picture shocked him the most even when it was the least innocuous. It was a portrait, a recent one, of him standing in a room he couldn’t quite place because the details were obscured and indistinct. Under the portrait his name was written, Dynan Telaerin.

Marc glanced over his shoulder, grunting under his breath. “Hard to deny that.”

Dynan shook his head, unwilling to accept it, even when it was impossible to refute. “Your ancestor was a Seer,” he said after reading a remarkably accurate and detailed account of the events that had led him to Brent and to Crey.

“Talryn is a fairly common name,” Marc said, but then Dynan pulled out the ring Matt had given Loren, with its finely etched design that stood out on the cover of the Book of Ages.

“Somehow, I don’t think it’s that common.” Dynan turned to the Chancellor, wondering what the man had in mind.

The Chancellor told him plainly enough and after a glance at Ralion, who didn’t like the idea at all, agreed to what they wanted. He shouldn’t have, for a lot of reasons, but events had moved so far beyond anyone’s ability to stop them, it seemed better to go along with it and get it over with as soon as possible. He thought too, that if he did refuse, the repercussions for Cadal would be far worse. People needed to see him. They needed to know that the people of Brittallia weren’t their enemy and that they would be left to live their lives in peace and without interference.

It was easier to accommodate the Chancellor than it was to contemplate what the drawings might really mean, or their direct connection to the dreams Dynan had, or the reality of his having been there before, at the Demon’s Gate. It felt like something pulling at the center of his being, drawing him from this reality into that one. If he let it, he would cease to exist here. He fought against it, shutting his mind to the possibility. An audible crack startled him, but no one else heard it. The pressure against him eased.

Marc was shaking his head, looking at the dragon. “You keep telling me they aren’t real,” he said silently.

Dynan didn’t answer that and turned the page of the book to see if it would tell him what was coming next, but the images that followed didn’t offer much in the way of information that could be interpreted. There were more dragons and more wraiths, and he noticed that the dragon depicted on the later pages was slightly different from the first. Its markings were different. He wondered what that meant. Were these from the past, or some warning for the future? The wraith was the same, and he saw it again, in reality, staring at him with cruel black eyes.

“We don’t know what the later images mean,” the Chancellor told him. “The text doesn’t go beyond your involvement in events, so we can only surmise that there will be some danger ahead.”

Dynan smiled tightly. “For me, that goes without saying.”

“I understand that doing this has consequences for you.”

“Not doing it will have consequences for you and all of Cadal. For you, it’s too late to turn back. The consequences I face are less certain. As long as I get away from here in time, I should be all right.” He looked to Ralion again. His jaw muscles flexed, but he didn’t voice his objections to what was happening.

“I’ll see to it that you do get away. In two and a half weeks time,” the Chancellor said, then smiled. “I added some extra days since I imagine you’ll want to spend some time with your promised.”

“She isn’t promised yet,” Dynan said, glancing across the room to where Grissam stood with Aleen. He tightened his grip on Loren’s hand. “When do you want to start?”

“Tonight,” Chancellor Aleron said, which was too soon for Dynan. “At the Festival.”

Dynan nodded, looking down at the image of a darkened room that seemed familiar, but lacked the detail he needed to be certain, with a dragon lying curled around a large crystal ball. There was a plain chair upon a dais behind the animal that looked like the Palace Throne Room on Cobalt, but he didn’t want to believe it, just like he didn’t want to believe what he feared; that the dragon was real.

He reached over and closed the Book of Ages and never looked at it again.