Voyage of the Fox Rider (50 page)
Aylis nodded. “He did. But, Jinnarin, Ontah was remolding the dream, making it into something else, something safe, not eliminating it. How he did it, I do not know…and until I know, until we know, meddling with another’s dream represents a risk we should avoid.”
Jinnarin pondered a moment, then said, “The sum and substance of it, Aylis, is that Ontah knew what he was doing, whereas we do not.”
Aylis smiled. “‘Yes, my tiny Pysk…although we are not entirely ignorant in the art of dreamwalking, we know nothing yet of the art of dreamhealing, of reshaping another’s dream from something harmful into something benign.”
“Well, I certainly do not want to tamper with the sending.”
“Oh, I do not plan on attempting to remold it. Instead, I think that we must merely find out more of what lies within.”
Jinnarin shivered. “Something dreadful is what we are likely to find—something dire and dangerous…something that killed Ontah.”
Aylis reached out toward the Pysk. “Yes, Jinnarin, yet remember, it is a sending and not a dream of your own. But you are right—something dangerous lies within—and I would avoid the danger.”
“Just how will we do that? Have you a plan?”
Aylis spread her hands. “Not exactly a plan. A strategy instead. This I think is the truth of it: I believe that you must sleep a natural sleep to be guided into the sending. However, since it
is
a sending, it represents
someone else’s dream
. Hence, once you have begun the dream, if I intercept and alert you, you
might
be able to disengage from the sending
just as if you were dreamwalking
. Then, should aught go awry, we can both
escape across a bridging—out from the sending and home.”
“Oh, Aylis, do you think it will work, this strategy of yours? Am I ready? Do I know enough?”
“As to the strategy, I can only hope it will work, Jinnarin. But as to your readiness, we need only to walk in but a handful more of Jatu’s dreams for you to gain experience in seeing when it is time to leave as well as shaping the bridges out.
“Then I want to walk some dreams of yours to practice making you aware within the dream itself.
“Then and only then will we walk within the sending.” Aylis pursed her lips. “I know of nothing else we can do to prepare us for the journey. Can you suggest anything?”
Jinnarin sat cross-legged and reflected deeply. At last she said, “I will take my bow and a quiver of arrows.”
Aylis’s mouth dropped open. “Bu-but, Jinnarin, this is a— How can—?”
“Easily,” interjected Jinnarin. “Since we can shape our dreams when we are aware, I will merely call my bow and arrows to me.”
Aylis laughed and clapped her hands.
The floor was transparent, and below a brawl raged to and fro within the barroom. Jatu rolled over in bed and said to the naked Woman, “Sorry, my fancy, but I—”
—he found himself hurling Arbalinian dockworkers out the doors of the Red Slipper, Bokar roaring at his side, the Dwarf without clothes yet covered with a thick matting of hair, and his arms were elongated and his knuckles dragged the ground. A dockworker charged and Bokar-ape hurled the laughing Man through the window and out into the waters of the bay. Suddenly the bordello was entirely empty, except for Bokar—who was now restored to his normal state, chainmail, helm, and axe, but no clothes. And down the stairwell came the many ladies of the Red Slipper, nude and inviting. Jatu quickened, responding to the lure.…
Jinnarin laughed, looking at Aylis standing beside her. “Perhaps we ought to go now.”
The walls began to waver.
“Now I
know
we ought to go,” said Jinnarin, forming
a hollow log leading out from the dream. The two stepped into the cavity, leaving Jatu’s dissolving fantasy behind, and passed through the length of the log and into the cabin.
Jinnarin spoke the
Aylis watched him go. After a moment she said, “Men—males—are not the only ones who have such dreams.”
Jinnarin smiled to herself. “I know.”
Jinnarin crouched down, trembling in the grass. She could see the huge owl perched on the branch of the tree, its great unblinking yellow eyes fixedly locked upon her. Fumbling about, she didn’t have her bow, and Rux was nowhere to be seen.
“Jinnarin, look at me!”
It was Aylis.
“This is but a dream, Jinnarin—your dream.”
“My dream?”
“Yes. And as such, you can control it, do with it as you will.”
“Control…?” Of a sudden, her bow appeared in her hands—“Hai!”—and Rux was at her side.
The owl launched itself toward her. As the great slayer swooped down, its talons extended for the kill, “‘Rux!” cried the Pysk, and the fox ran up through the air and, snapping, leapt upon the raptor, and the two tumbled down toward the ground to fall beyond seeing in the deep grass. There sounded a din of skrawking and snarling, and then silence, and Rux came trotting through the meadow, an owl feather clinging to his mouth.
Sparrow turned to Brightwing standing beside her. “What now, Brightwing?”
“Ah, so now you are aware.”
“Yes,” responded Sparrow. “This is my dream, or
rather Jinnarin’s, and I am in control.” Suddenly they stood on a high mountain overlooking a waterfall pouring out from the sky, a flutter of rainbows all about. “See?”
Brightwing laughed.
Now they stood upon a drifting cloud, peering down at a great forest with leaves of scarlet and gold. “Tell me something, Brightwing, if I were to make a bridge back to the cabin at this moment and say the
Brightwing’s eyes flew wide. “Oh, Sparrow, what a novel idea. But I know not the answer—perhaps it would be so, but then again perhaps not. If White Owl were here, he could advise us; yet he is not, and I do not know if there are risks involved, and without knowing, I think we had better not try.”
“If we take no risks, Brightwing, then we gain no knowledge,” said Sparrow. “Yet I will wait to try it another time…after we have found Farrix. Even so, I wish I knew the answer, for it may be a trick we will need when we venture the sending.”
Brightwing nodded as they floated on a burgundy oak leaf down a burbling rill mid a swarm of iridescent dragonflies. “If we are somehow left without choice, then will be the time to attempt such.”
When Brightwing stepped into the dream, she found herself among churning dark clouds above a pale green sea, Jinnarin flying ahead.
We are not yet ready for this
. Forming a bridge out, Brightwing returned to the cabin where Jinnarin lay, the Pysk covered with a sheen of sweat.
Moments later, Jinnarin bolted upright, panting, her heart hammering with dread. Temporarily she was disoriented, but then she focused on Aylis. “It was the sending,” she gasped.
“I know.”
“Why didn’t—?” Jinnarin paused, catching her breath. “Why didn’t we go?” she said at last.
“We will, Jinnarin, but just not yet. We both need a bit more practice: I, in awakening you within the dream; you in controlling a dream and in making bridges.”
Jinnarin sighed glumly. “I think I am ready now.”
Aylis spread her hands. “Next time, Jinnarin, next time we go. I promise.”
They lay in bed side by side, the Lady Mage and the Elf. She clasped his hand and brought his fingers to her lips, kissing each one separately. He looked at her and smiled a gentle smile. Of a sudden she shook her head, and looked hard at him.
“‘What is it, Aylis?” asked Aravan, concern in his eyes.
She took a deep breath and then exhaled. “Oh, love, it’s just that I’ve walked so many dreams of late that I sometimes find it hard to tell which is reality and which are but phantasms of the mind.”
Aravan nodded slowly, then said, “Once while serving as navigator on the Dragonship
Wavestrider
, the captain, Rald was his name, woke up with a start, his eyes wide and staring and full of puzzlement. When I asked him if aught was amiss, he told me of the dream he had had. He said, ‘I dreamed that I was a bee gathering honey. The dream was so real, so very real. I had six legs and two wings, but I had no trouble in knowing how to use them. When I had gathered all the nectar and pollen that I could carry, I flew straightly and swift, back to the hollow tree where the hive took all my gatherings from me to make honey. Darkness fell, and each of the bees went to sleep, including me. That’s when I awoke here on the
Wavestrider
, and then it was that I wondered if I was a Man who had dreamed he was a bee, or instead a sleeping bee dreaming of being a Man on a Dragonship.’ Rald then moved his limbs and felt along his chest as if seeking to discover another set of legs. Finding none, he looked over his shoulder, trying to see his wings. Detecting neither extra legs nor wings, he looked long at me and then broke out in laughter. It was thereafter, though, that he developed a special fondness for flowers, seeking them out at every opportunity.”
Aylis laughed, but then grew sober, thoughtful. Finally she said. “Perhaps that is what we are—nought but dreaming dreamers, fast asleep in some far Realm, dreaming our lives away as we live here in this existence.”
Aravan smiled. “‘Mayhap,
chieran
, but if so I would
not wish ever to awaken unless thou wert there as well.” He raised up on one elbow and leaned down and kissed her on the lips. Then he reached down and took her hand and kissed her fingers as well. Finally he looked into her eyes, sapphires gazing into emeralds. “Although I have no way of proving it, this I deem is the reality,
chieran
, though for me it is a dream come true.”
Aylis pulled him to her and kissed him long. Then holding hands they lay once again side by side. After a while she murmured, “She is ready, love; Jinnarin is as ready as I can make her, and so am I. When next she enters the sending, then will I follow her, and together we will venture to discover whatever we can.”