Chapters (62)
:Yes, he admitted. I have…I have found myself the holder of a secret I dare not risk revealing to him.
:I see. Then you must find someone else to reveal it to. Someone you trust. Otherwise I fear you will lose your identity. You will be neither yourself nor this manifestation of Mirar, but a half-mad mixture of both.
:I know of no one…
:There are other Dreamweavers in Jarime. Will one of them suffice?
:Perhaps. He paused. There is one other matter I should tell you of. I spoke to Danjin Spear this evening. He warned me that the Dreamweavers in Sennon may not be safe.
:He speaks of the alliance between Sennon and the Pentadrians.
:Ah!
:Yes. We have nothing to fear from the Pentadrians. They have always treated Dreamweavers well. When you speak to this adviser again tell him to remind the White that we Dreamweavers do not take sides in war. If there is a conflict we will tend the wounded of all nations, as we have always done.
:I will. Is there to be a war?
:The more I learn of these Pentadrians, the more I fear a conflict is inevitable. She paused. What do you know of them?
:I have no link memories on the subject, Leiard replied. What I know is based on comments from Auraya and the rumors circulating around Jarime. Are their gods real?
:Nobody knows. The Circlians assume not, of course. Even if they are right, that makes the Pentadrians only a little less dangerous.
:A little is something, at least.
:Yes. I must go now. I have more Dreamweavers to contact. Take care, Leiard. Consider what I have said.
The link ended as she turned her mind away. Leiard drifted in the nothingness, knowing her advice was sound, but fearing the consequences. If he allowed another Dreamweaver to know his secret, then the next Dreamweaver he or she linked with would discover the truth. Soon all Dreamweavers would know…
:Leiard?
His heart leapt as he recognized Auraya’s mental voice and he eagerly reached out to meet her.
There is no undoing what we have done, he thought. We may as well enjoy it while we can.
As Emerahl returned to her room, warm and relaxed from an hour-long soak in hot water, she considered how her situation had improved. She was still a whore, but at least she was a well-fed one, with customers of better quality than before. She was earning more money, though Rozea insisted on holding most of it in credit.