TKC 131/132
As Joseph and Hanna curl together for sleep, a spark of
green light twirls over our fire. The colour gets my attention first, for all
green seems to have abandoned our world. What happens next holds my attention.
The spark bobs as if dancing above the purple flames.
I sneak a glance at Horin, but the boy is already asleep.
Siri lies between him and Attis, her eyes closed. Attis sits up to stare at the
moving green spark.
At least now I know I am not crazy.
Attis rises carefully to sidle to my side. Sitting on the
log beside me, he whispers, “I think it’s Horin’s dreaming.”
I nod and together we watch. Kay snorts in his sleep
somewhere.
The spark expands into the orb we have all seen Horin hold,
but this is a dream orb, not the one he is able to summon. It dips into the
flames as if testing the heat and then rises again swiftly. For a moment it
seems to hover as if in thought, and then the orb flattens into a disc, such as
those soldiers throw at targets to strengthen hand-eye coordination. Once they
master the talent, they move onto daggers.
Abruptly the disc descends to completely cover the flames. They
snuff out. Attis and I both hiss in breaths of surprise. What we are seeing is
more tangible than we thought. Smoking slightly, the greenness lifts once more,
higher and higher. When it reaches the height of a man, it spreads.
The net Horin has employed before hoves into view over our
small camp.
“He is trying something while he sleeps,” Attis whispers.
Yes, and it scares me. We have more freedom in dreams than
we do in reality. Whatever Horin is doing, it may well work in the ethereal
realms, but it may hurt us in reality. I debate whether to wake the boy … and
realise that is more dangerous.
I am, however, able to delve his thoughts. Releasing the
barriers, I concentrate. I see Siri’s mind first; her thoughts are for Kay, the
westerner, in the form of garlands of roses intertwining. I glare at the man in
the shadows, wondering if he has moved in on my sister. His thoughts are
masked; he is in deep sleep. Ha. I will have words with the man soon.
Attis’ wonder rattles like gems in an ornate box beside me,
and I smile. Tough little innocent.
Focus.
I do. I focus on Horin.
His mind is open. It has to be, given the manipulation he
attempts from one realm into another. The world of images I enter is more real
than the reality of Arc around us. I see a path, a mountain, a field, a horse. What
makes it more real is that it is there,
grounded, not shifting as dreamscapes do. And it has colour and texture. The path
is fawn gravel, the mountain grey and green rock and tree. The field is filled
with colourful blooms, while the horse is a beautiful black, its coat
glistening … in yellow sunlight. I walk with Horin along the path, watch as his
hands strew seeds before him. Tiny green sparks hit the ground, bounce, and
then rise to become autonomous. They dance and, as they do so, light, colour and
the tangible is created.
Leave now, Damin.
I jerk from the boy’s mind to freeze upon the log. By the
stars, Horin is strong.
Drawing in a decidedly shaking breath, I focus on the net
over us. As Attis and I watch, it explodes in utter silence. Green sparks
skitter into the surrounding, some heading up, others falling to the earth.
Darkness descends then, and I understand it is true night. Real night.
The red glows are gone.
Horin sits up then, and spears me with an intense gaze.
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