‘Yes.’
Battu smiled. ‘Yes what?’
‘Master.’
‘Good boy. Now come. I will show you the Cloud.’
Battu had led Losara to Skygrip’s roof, from which the stream of black and grey vapour curled slowly upwards. ‘The Breath of the Cloud,’ he announced. ‘A gateway, for those gifted enough to survive it.’
‘Where to, master?’ asked Losara.
‘A place where you can see the shadows of past, present and future. Like all shadows, these can be shifting or uncertain. Hence what we see are nothing more than dreams, yet the dreams of the whole world.’
‘Shadowdreams,’ said Losara.
‘Yes. With the Cloud running throughout Skygrip, there isn’t a night that shadowdreams don’t visit my sleep – but they are strongest here, between earth and sky. Would you like to see?’
‘Yes,’ Losara had whispered, fascinated. ‘Master,’ he added quickly.
‘Then come,’ said Battu, leading Losara to stand before the Breath.
Losara had reached out to touch it, but Battu seized his hand. ‘Stupid boy! You do not have the skill to do this by yourself!’ Losara cried out at the Shadowdreamer’s grip and Battu relaxed it. ‘You must hold my hand as we go in,’ he said. ‘Don’t try this by yourself, until I tell you otherwise. Are you ready?’
Losara nodded. Holding the boy’s pale little hand in his own, Battu led him into the Cloud.
A fine sheet of moisture coated Losara instantly. He blinked, but couldn’t see. Darkness moved against his skin like slow wind. It didn’t occur to him to be afraid; instead, wonder filled him. So this was where the dreams came from. He’d always had them, as far back as he could remember in his short life. He’d always known them for what they were – reflections, half-truths, memories, possibilities, dim and half-remembered. How he’d known, exactly, did not seem to matter. Had someone told him, right at the beginning? He had an impression of whiskers and scales.
From somewhere beside him came Battu’s voice. ‘Breathe it in, boy.’
Losara breathed, and darkness suffused his body and mind. A moment later he could no longer feel his physical form, but seemed to float without a body. He spun, disoriented, but the presence of Battu hovered nearby, holding him steady against the tumbling eddies. Somewhere Losara heard a tumultuous noise, far away yet all around, there, but impossible to listen to.
Do you hear that? came Battu’s thought.
Yes.
It’s the sound of the world from beginning to end. Don’t listen too hard or you will be lost. Just drift.
A heady ecstasy coursed through Losara. Images rose out of the void to catch him, like bubbles. He shadowdreamed …
…he’s older now, sailing alone across black waters. Ahead is darkness like a great cave mouth swallowing the sea. He rows towards it, the splashing of his oars the only sound …
…sharks are swimming side by side as they hurry after prey. One male leads, the biggest of the pack. A hunted serpent rounds on the male, flaring spiked frill and baring fangs. The male attacks, all snapping jaws and swiping tail, and soon the serpent is dead. The big male gorges himself on bands of its flesh while the other sharks circle uneasily. Their leader is strong, but he takes more than he needs, and he shares his mind with another …
…an old mage with golden hair stands above a gravestone, incanting uneasily, performing a spell that makes him afraid …
…a blond woman with pointed ears runs through a forest into a clearing. A man is there, tall and bare-chested, chopping wood with a huge axe. He drops the tool when he sees her and she runs happily into his arms. He swings her around, laughing …
…the city of the Graka, high in the Bentemoth Mountains where the air is thin and the temperature freezing. Graka emerge from caves onto stone platforms, four of them carrying a casket between them, beating their wings to rise into the sky …
…a little boy with black hair runs through dry mud streets. Behind him come three older boys, chasing him with sticks …
…Battu, now the Shadowdreamer’s Apprentice, raises a hand and points. Three men begin screaming, and die painfully …
…And then a scene of the present , of himself , of his other self …
Bel bounded down the Open Tower staircase three steps at a time. At six years old he was physically strong in a way that Losara had never been. His face was round and friendly with some slight freckling on his nose. His Sprite eyes were amber flecked with gold, sparkling infectiously. Losara had no such eyes, and circled closer with interest.
Bel ran to a log house, away a bit off the path between the trees. Was that where he lived? There were two other houses close by, and a leather ball lay on the grass. ‘Hiza?’ called out Bel. ‘Vrymus! Are you not here, you lazy louts?’ He kicked the ball.
He calls out to friends , thought Losara. Were there other families living in those houses? He pondered what it would be like to have friends his own age.
Bel ran on, until he spied another boy, who was sitting beneath a bush tugging up grass. ‘Hello, Lyndal!’ he said, jogging up. ‘Having fun?’
Lyndal, slightly younger, regarded Bel suspiciously. ‘No.’
Bel kneeled and tore up a clump of grass. He considered his handiwork briefly, then sprinkled the tufts on Lyndal’s shoes. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘This isn’t fun. Have you seen Hiza or Vrymus?’
‘No,’ said Lyndal, brushing the grass off his feet.
‘Why are you so sour?’ said Bel. He leaned closer, staring intently into Lyndal’s eyes. Lyndal shifted uncomfortably.
‘I’m not,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you go away? I’m busy.’
Bel glanced at the severed grass, his fingers playing over it idly. Then he smacked Lyndal in the knee.
‘Ow! What was that for?’
‘Sorry,’ Bel said jovially, standing up. ‘Shouldn’t kill the grass, Lyndal! But I guess we didn’t all get the evil taken out of us when we were born.’
‘What?’
‘Never mind,’ said Bel.
Losara felt a moment of sickness. Bel did know about him, but thought that he was evil. Was that true? Had Losara been a canker best removed?
Bel ran through scattered trees towards a high hedge. Children weren’t allowed on the barracks grounds without an adult, but Bel and his comrades sometimes came here to climb a gnarled tree that grew next to the hedge. As he reached it he heard the clang of practice blades from the other side. He swung himself into the tree, eager to see the fighting. About eight paces up he found a branch well hidden within the foliage, which held a good view of the training ground.
A large man was advancing on a spotty youth, sixteen at most, batting his sword away while barking commands. Watching were a group of ten or so students. One of them, Losara noted with interest, was a Saurian. The creature stood man-height but had lizard-like features and watched the fight through double-lidded eyes. It was a Ryoshi Saurian, Losara knew from his lessons. Not as dangerous as a Syanti Saurian, the Ryoshi’s snake-like cousin.
Reptiles, thought Losara. They need the sun. If the Cloud extended as far as their deserts, would they all die?
The big man launched another attack and his student rallied, forcing him back a step. Some of the class gave encouraging claps. The man called for the lad to press forward with his attack – but it was too slow in coming. The man raised his sword to the boy’s chest and the fight was over.
Bel shifted his weight, rustling the branch, and a few leaves shook loose. The man glanced up and Bel froze, not wishing to give away his secret vantage. The man seemed to smile a moment, then turned his attention back to his lesson. He called up another student, a stout young woman who walked with a roll to her shoulders and a proud air. She bowed to the man and a new bout began. She was a better fighter than her predecessor and the taskmaster laughed heartily as she forced him back under flashing whirls of dull metal. He announced he was going to try to disarm her and her expression grew more determined. It turned to surprise a moment later as, with a sudden lunge, the man jabbed his sword under the curved hilt of hers and flipped it from her hand. It spun up into the air and went sailing over the hedge, sticking into the ground at the base of Bel’s tree.