His stomach grumbled. Shaking his head, Lanren put the thought aside and left in search of dinner.

Long past midnight, Auraya paced her tent. The war discussion had lasted hours. At first the time had flown by, but as the night lengthened, the presence of the new Dreamweaver adviser had reminded Auraya of the questions she wanted to ask Leiard.

She knew from reading Raeli’s mind that the woman had no idea why Leiard had resigned from the position. Auraya could easily guess the answer to that. Any of her fellow White could learn of their affair just by seeing into his mind. He must have resigned to prevent that.

She felt a pang of guilt. If she’d realized the consequences of taking him to bed that night…but one wasn’t meant to think twice in moments of passion. That’s how it was in folktales of love and heroism. Even in those tales there was a cost to forbidden love. Obviously it hadn’t occurred to Leiard how much trouble they would cause, either. Even if they had restrained themselves that night, there would still have been the revelation of their love for each other. The White would have read that from his mind anyway.

Is there a chance they might accept my choice of lover? I doubt they’d be happy about it, but they may come to support us in time. We could become a symbol of unity between Circlians and Dreamweavers.

It was all very fine dreaming of becoming a symbol of unity when she didn’t know where he was or—she felt her stomach twist—if he still felt the same way about her. During dinner she had asked Danjin if he had seen Leiard. He had no idea where Leiard or any of the Dreamweavers were. She knew they preferred not to travel with armies or to show preference for any side in a battle, but they could not be too far away. Their destination was the same as both armies: the battlefield.

She ought to be sleeping, but she knew she would not. Tomorrow Juran would expect her to join the other White leading the army to war. The only time she had free to seek Leiard was these few spare hours of night.

As she reached the tent entrance she heard a small, muffled voice.

“Owaya go?”

She looked back at the basket Mischief had taken to as his bed. A small head and two bright eyes appeared among the blankets.

“Yes,” she said. “Mischief stay.”

“Msstf Owaya go.”

Auraya paused, not sure of the veez’s meaning. The creature jumped out of the basket and bounded past her. He stopped a few strides away and looked back at her.

“Msstf Owaya go,” he repeated.

He wanted to come with her. She smiled, then shook her head.

“Auraya fly,” she told him.

He looked up at her.

“Msstf Owaya fly.”