The veez was a welcome extra source of warmth, anyway. Wouldn’t my father love to see me now? I was hired for my intelligence and knowledge of the world, but all I have been useful for so far is as a pet’s guardian.

He looked around the tarn. All of the other occupants were asleep, even the new Dreamweaver adviser, Raeli. Her face had lost much of its rigid wariness. She was not a beautiful woman, but without the constant frown of tension marking her forehead she was not unattractive either.

Last night, over dinner, Auraya had told him that Raeli’s aloofness stemmed from fear and suspicion. The woman was afraid of ill-treatment and of making mistakes that might harm her people. She hesitated to make friends lest they betray her. Auraya assured him that Raeli noted and appreciated every friendly gesture made toward her. She had pointed out that he would find it easier to befriend the Dreamweaver than she would, as one of the White. He had taken that as a hint that she wanted him to befriend Raeli for her.

It wouldn’t be easy. Raeli responded to most questions as briefly as possible. This morning, when he had entered the tarn with Mischief, a hint of warmth had entered Raeli’s gaze, and he began to consider whether the veez would provide common ground between himself and the Dreamweaver. She was Somreyan and keeping veez as pets was a Somreyan habit. Though he had no idea when he was supposed to find time to befriend her, when every moment of his day was taken up with war councils, attending to Auraya, or obeying the unspoken rule against chatter in the advisers’ tarn.

Danjin closed his eyes and sighed. It would be so much easier if Leiard hadn’t resigned. He hadn’t seen Leiard since the day he had visited the Dreamweaver in Jarime. Last night Auraya had mentioned speaking to Leiard the previous night. She told Danjin how, while flying about two nights ago, she had noticed an encampment of Dreamweavers in the distance. She had visited them, and found Leiard there.

That would have to have been after the war council. Doesn’t she need sleep?

He yawned. Perhaps not. But I do.

For a while his thoughts drifted. Weariness overcame the discomfort of sleeping upright and the jolting of the tarn as it trundled along the road. Then something kicked him in a way that made him grateful for the heavy leather vest protecting his groin. He started awake with a curse, and the first thing he saw was the veez slip under the flap covering the opening of the tarn and disappear. Next he realized he was the object of several reproachful stares. Throwing off the last vestiges of sleep, he leapt up and went in pursuit of the creature.