The crowd grew silent for a moment as the massive iron doors opened, and then a cheer went up. The World Road was open, and people from all parts of the nation would soon be traversing it. At each of the six towns, smaller matching keeps protected the other ends of the portals, and the gates there were already open, waiting. Today would be a day that none would forget.
We withdrew from the balcony after that, though my work wasn’t done. As momentous as the occasion was, it naturally had to be commemorated with a massive feast. Penny watched me carefully from the sides of her eyes as we went. “Are you alright, Mort?” she asked during a moment when there were no other ears close by.
“Yes, of course,” I said promptly, giving my voice a lighter tone than I truly felt. “Why?”
She shook her head, “No reason, you just seem as though you have a shadow hovering over you.”
As usual she had seen through my façade. “I’m just a bit pensive, worried about the future of the World Road. Nothing for you to be too concerned about,” I replied, hoping to redirect her train of thought.
“If you say so,” she said, but her tone implied she knew better.
The trees towering over me were massive, larger than anything I had seen before, but for some reason they seemed natural, and I hardly took note of them. Glancing down, I saw another hand in my own, a slender graceful hand, connected to an equally lovely arm. Following the arm to its conclusion, I realized I was walking beside perhaps one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen.
“Lyralliantha,” I said softly, as her name sprang to my lips unbidden. Why did I say that? I wondered idly; normally I called her by her nickname, ‘Lyra’.
“Yes love?” she replied easily.
“Do you think the council will accept our proposal?” I asked.
She frowned, “I do not know. It is still hard for me to accept, and I am in love with you. They will have a difficult time adapting to the notion that your kind are not simple animals, but once they see what you have created, they cannot do otherwise.”
“It still isn’t true spell-weaving,” I told her again.
She nodded, “No, it isn’t, but it is something new, something never seen before, and it is akin to spell-weaving, in a way.”
A thought crossed my mind and I looked around anxiously, “You don’t suppose they can hear us?” I said, indicating the mother-trees on either side of our path.
Lyra laughed, “They are sleeping. They hear nothing unless we awaken them. Do not fear.” She leaned closer, and her lips met mine for a pleasant moment. “Perhaps that will distract you,” she said, with a twinkle in her eyes.
I kissed her again, and my mind drifted away, the scene fading. When my eyes opened again it was to a different scene. People were screaming, dying, as open wounds appeared spontaneously on their skin. Some writhed on the ground, clawing at themselves even as they bled and died. My magesight showed me the cause of their affliction, but I was powerless to stop it, if I lowered my shields for a moment it would kill me too.
“Save us!” a woman cried, clawing at the shield of power I had extended around myself, but I looked away. I could not meet her terrible, dying eyes. Inside I knew the truth, this was your fault! You caused this, my inner voice accused.
Death was everywhere, a tangible thing, and I could smell it, taste it. Worse, I could hear it… a terrible dissonance that played in direct counterpoint to the harmony of the living world. I shut my eyes and clapped my hands to my ears, wishing I could shut out the sensation of it, but this was one voice I could not block out.
Screaming I sat up in bed, clutching my head to shut out the terrible sound of it. Penny was beside me, her arms around me. “Mort, wake up!” it’s just a dream.
Desperate, I clutched her to me, burying my head in her neck hoping the sweet scent of her hair would drive away the vivid images that still floated before my eyes. She stroked my head, repeating soft, soothing words while I gradually began to calm down. Slowly I came to realize it had just been a dream, a horrible, terrifying and all too real dream.
No it wasn’t, said a voice in the back of my mind. It happened, and if you aren’t careful, it will happen again. The truth of it sank into me and I began to weep, softly at first, and then more loudly, as if I were a child again. Through it all, I heard the dissonant song of death… just as I had in the dream… only now I was awake.
“Is it Marc?” asked Penny gently, “Did you dream of him?”
“No,” I said finally, my voice hoarse and thick. “It was the memories again.” I had explained my strange memories to her before, after the visit with Marcus, when he had given me the tablet, but I still didn’t understand them very well. Every time I began to examine them deliberately, fear seemed to clutch at my heart until I closed the door and shut the memories away again.
“You’re having dreams about them now?” she said, concern on her face.
I nodded. And I hear the voice of death now, I added mentally.
“Why haven’t you tried to examine them? Maybe they’d be less frightening if you let them see the light of day?” she suggested.
It was a completely rational suggestion, but at that moment I couldn’t bear the thought of looking any closer at what lurked in the back of my mind… much like every other moment. Still, I knew I had to eventually face them, otherwise I’d go mad from dreams I barely understood. “You’re right,” I admitted.
She stared at me for a long minute.
“What, right now?” I said, flabbergasted.
“Is there a better time?”
“Certainly not in the middle of the night,” I replied. “I’m still not sure I’ll ever sleep soundly again after what I just dreamed about.”
“Tell me about that then,” she said reasonably. I hated it when she was reasonable.
I spent the next ten minutes describing my dream-memory as well as I could. Unlike an ordinary dream, which would fade upon waking, this one remained crystal clear. When I finished she gave me an odd look.
“I’m not sure how to feel about you dreaming about strange women,” she said.
“I don’t think it was my dream,” I answered. “I mean it was my dream, but I think it was really someone else’s memory. It’s just stuck in my head somehow… and Lyra wasn’t a woman, exactly.”
“Now you’re referring to her by her nickname,” Penny teased, “but you certainly described her as a woman. You kissed her.”
“Someone else kissed her,” I protested, “I’m just remembering it, and yes, she’s female… sort of, but she isn’t human.”
Penny’s eyes narrowed for a moment, “She didn’t happen to look similar to Elaine did she?”
“No,” I said, mildly irritated, “she looked nothing like Elaine. She had silver hair, so white it seemed to shimmer, and her eyes were a light blue, like ice.”
“That seems a bit unusual.”
“No, all the people of her grove had hair and eyes like that,” I remarked without thinking, “Their ears tapered to soft points as well.”
“Her grove?” asked Penny.
“She was one of the She’Har,” I answered, and then I realized that more information was coming out in my replies than I was consciously aware of. Unfortunately, the realization caused my mind to clamp shut in fear and nothing more was forthcoming.