Quentin has everything we need... sounded a voice as greased as an oil slick, perhaps more so. It was also disconcertingly familiar...
Another voice. Our Lord would prefer the honed blade he requested, Ciro...
*I know that name...*
Dark shapes fluttered above me, manlike figures that I could no more specifically discern. The first voice continued, talking about some other person, some information wanted... and was being gotten.
The first voice. Come now, Lardoth. I am a master of mixing business with pleasure... The scene blurred above me as a white hot spotlight shone down in my face...
...To be revealed as the sun poking through the clouds and shades of my bedroom window. The dreams, again.
Shit.
*****
Breakfast was a rather lonely affair, as not too many showed, at least none that I looked to talk with. My cousin Bishop hailed me, after some time, with the stirrings of a plan to take our more recently revealed cousin back to her universe. If she would not talk of the gates, fine; we could provide the escort back to her home, for her and her Jewel's safety, as well as find out about our sister worlds.
It made a lot of sense to me, and it was something I must admit I had thought about. But there was something in me balking at the plan -- maybe not being the one to come up with it. Like it or not, I do have an ego. But even after giving Bishop a half hearted consent and sending him off, I forced myself to consider another reason for my hesitance.
I swallowed the thought of her away with a large helping of pancakes.
*****
The ship rocked below me as I headed down below, for my Father's office. He was there, of course. Caine looked no better this morn than last night, and was still seeking the solace of his bottle. I know he thinks I am naive, and too young to know better, and probably more than a bit of a shithead for even talking with Brand's daughter. But he doesn't know of my life before. The sketchy details I gave him were just that, sketches of a place that was none too hospitable. I lied to Caine -- the Shadow I lived in was a Hell of some sort. Death surrounded me and was a part of every day of my life, for at least three years. A good part of my life is ripped from my memory. I can only guess at the things I saw then, as well.
But I guess I saw the only way to appease Caine was to assure him with some words, and convince him that I was a mixture of confident and stupid -- not too difficult for me to pull off. I'd liked to think I'd mastered the art of lying, when I needed it.
Think I was gonna tell him I might have something for her? Hell no.
*****
After peppering a bale of hay with arrows for a while, Ben came to find me. Fortunately, in all the confusion, I did recall that there were six arrows in that quiver, and not five.
Benny handed my a picture of a ruined Amber, of crumbled parapets and flames and death. The caption, City of Ashes and Dust. It was what he had seen in the Tir, and is what had disturbed him so. I felt a tiny twinge of guilt for pressuring him earlier. Feeling a bit indebted, I told him of what I had seen there. Well, except for Bailey being jumped, of course.
*****
I turned back to Caedes after dumping a large sack of coins into an overflowing tithe box, flashed him a weak smile, and wondered to myself, "How much more of a putz can I look like in forty-eight hours?"
*****
Dinner was a quiet affair for me, but not for the others, who chose to attend this time. Gwyn had little to say to me, but it was obvious how she looked at the way Bailey and I looked at each other that she wasn't happy. It never crossed my mind that she may be a little jealous.
Bailey kept stealing glances my way, which I noticed but did not really acknowledge. I didn't want to open up *that* conversation across a dinner table full of nosy cousins and other relatives. Bishop laid out his plans to escort Bailey back to her universe, of which most of the others were recruited for, I found. I grunted an approval.
Finally, she said something to me -- exactly what, I can not recall! -- But I became suddenly self conscious and said something about talking later. As they left the room, I sat there, kicking myself mentally and once again absolving my stupidity with a plate of food. Who needs religion? Give me a good cook.
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