Dream Magic (44 page)

She shook her head a fracti
on. “You’re not like the hound, boy. You’re infinitely better than that. You see, it was your coming that heralded the end of everything—at least, the end of this Age.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It would of course be difficult to understand…you’re so young. Let me try this way: you have lived before, Trev. Many times. You’ve been born, lived life, and vanished when your time comes, as we all must do at least once.”

Trev looked at her doubtfully. As she spoke, the
dragon came up behind him. Brand noted that the dragon now seemed to be content to accompany Trev wherever he went. He wondered if this was because Trev
was
a Jewel. Perhaps, in her own way, the dragon had been affected by Trev. Perhaps she even felt a love for him—despite the fact dragons had ashen hearts. Brand believed they could come to love something other than themselves. Fafna’s father had possessed the Orange for a long time and had no doubt come to love it.

Brand turned back to Trev and Gudrin. The two were still talking, Gudrin in a gentle voice, and Trev clearly not catching on. Brand couldn’t stand it any longer. He touched the boy’s shoulder.

“I think she’s addled,” Trev said quietly.

“Trev,” Brand said, pointing at the Storm. As they watched, it flashed Blue. “You see that thing? It has just consumed Lavatis. It has consumed each
of the Jewels in turn. It will not stop scouring the Earth until it has them all. That’s what Gudrin is trying to tell you.”

“But how? Why?”

“It is time, child,” Gudrin said.

Brand shook his head. “It doesn’t matter how or why. You have to understand that you have very little time left.”

Trev stared at him, then suddenly, comprehension dawned.

“It’s going to consume
me?
” he shouted.

Brand nodded. “Tomkin ran off to lead it away—to give you more time.”

Trev’s expression changed. He had a wild, hunted look in his eye.

“It can’t be!” he said. “I touched Morgana,
and she had the White on her breast at the time. How could it be that the storm didn’t start at that very moment?”

“You are
for the most part immune to the magic of the Jewels,” Gudrin explained. “The storm could not start between the Quicksilver and the White. Besides, for it to start, they must
all
be in proximity, as they have not been for many centuries.”

“If I’
m immune, then I can’t be consumed,” Trev said stubbornly.

It pained
Brand to see Trev arguing against his fate, but he could hardly blame the boy.

“
You’re immune to the Jewels—but not the storm.”

Brand turned a sour glance toward Gudrin. He could not believe she
was still able to speak. Any human would have died long ago. The legendary toughness of the Kindred often left them like this, lingering.

“Come boy,”
Fafna said suddenly, “I will bear you to safety!”

“There is none for him,” Gudrin said. “It’s best—”

“You’ve had your say,” Brand said gruffly, turning on her. “You’ve done your part in this tragedy. Let the man die as he will!”

Trev
and Gudrin both looked at him. Brand realized he held Ambros over his head as if he were an executioner, ready to strike off someone’s head. Brand took a deep breath and lowered the Axe. He clasped hands with Trev.

“There is one who might speak with you,” Brand said. “He walks with Slet.”

Trev followed Brand’s arm and saw where he pointed. He took steps in that direction. Fafna followed, and Brand was sure in that moment there was a look of concern on the dragon’s strange face. He would not have believed it, if he hadn’t witnessed it for himself. The dragon had bonded with Trev—with the Quicksilver.

As he watched them go to where Slet and Puck stood, Brand saw the storm flash
redly near the river. He smiled grimly. Tomkin had led the storm on a merry chase—running it right into Oberon. Now it had consumed both their Jewels.

He was certain that this final trick
played upon Oberon would be Tomkin’s favorite, perhaps until the end of his days.

Chapter Nineteen

Farewells

Trev met with Slet and Puck. Although the Black was gone, the
Dead elf still walked. All the rest of the Dead were lying in repose again. Trev knew that he was seeing his father—or at least a shadow of him. He did not know what strength Puck might have left in him, but he knew that it could not be long.

“Trev?” Puck asked upon seeing his son for the first time in more than a decade.

“Yes, father? Does your mind still inhabit your body? Why?”

“It won’t for long. I’m glad to see you though, one more time.”

They clasped hands. Trev could not bring himself to hug the Dead thing before him, despite the fact it wore his father’s face. Fortunately, Puck seemed to understand.

“What should I do, father? They tell me that
a storm is coming to swallow me up.”

“Do what you will. You’ve lived a fine life, sho
rt though it might have been. Many have done far less with far more years.”

“Did you know?” Trev asked. “Did you know what I was, and what might happen to me?”

Puck nodded. “Yes. I meant to tell you in time, but you were so young when I left the family.”

“Why then did you make me?”

“I…your mother made me happy. I wanted to do the same for her.”

Trev shook his head.
“I fear for mother’s sanity. She’s going to lose us both today.”

“She’s a strong woman. She’ll find her way. But I would not have her sit up every night for the rest of her days waiting for us, wondering if we might yet come back.”

Trev stared at his father. His eyes stung, but he fought back the tears. He was a man now, and he didn’t want people to remember him bawling like an infant in his final moments.

Puck looked at the
dragon curiously. “You’ve made a friend, I see.”

“Hardly,” said the
dragon, attempting to appear aloof.

Puck chuckled. It was a raspy sound. Slet looked at him in surprise.

“Puck, you can laugh? You have more freedom of mind than at any time since I raised you. Is this what you were like in life?”

“Yes, I guess so. The effects of the Black Scepter are fading now.”

Trev looked from one to the other, then back to the storm. He saw with alarm it was heading toward him. He backed away several steps.

“Should I flee, father?”

“You are full grown. Every man should die on his feet, not hiding in a well. But if there is something you want to do, you must do it fast.”

Trev nodded. He climbed upon the
dragon’s back and whispered to it. They launched into the air.

After the boy had taken flight, Slet was not surprised to see Puck lay himself down and become still. The elf had returned to death at last.

* * *

Brand watched Trev take off into sky, and
he waved to him, although he doubted the lad saw the gesture.

“I guess he decided to run for it, Gudrin,” he said aloud.

Gudrin did not answer him. He turned to her, and saw her eyes had glazed over. Kindred Warriors pressed close and fussed over the body of their Queen. Brand could not recall ever having seen a single Kindred cry before, not even while in the throes of a grim death. He had not thought them capable of weeping.

“Good-bye, Gudrin,” he said, feeling old
and weary all of a sudden. He thought of Telyn, and wanted to feel the comfort of her arms again. He sat and cradled her, and she stirred as if resting peacefully.

He looked around him, seeing the devastation of his life’s work for the first time. There was a massive tree laying across what seemed
to be half his land. The walls were broken, both the inner and the outer. There was so much work to be done. It would take years.

“Brand, look!” Tomkin said. “It’s coming for you next!”

Brand turned to face the storm. It was huge now, and loomed over him.

“Tomkin?” he asked, not turning away from the storm. “What’s it like when you lose your Jewel forever?”

“Not as bad as I thought it would be. I’m free now. The Jewels are like ghosts, Brand. They make you love them and dream of them—but really, all along, you’re being haunted by a spirit.”

Brand nodded. He could believe that. But still, he did not want to give up Ambros.

He lifted the Axe high and made it light up the world with golden light. He closed his eyes then, and cast sunlight into the face of the swirling storm.

Slowing wheeling and roaring, the storm made it d
ifficult for any of them to be heard. The cloud came close and spun over his head. He could still see, to his surprise, blue sky through its heart. There, beyond the eye of the storm, there was a clear, sunny day.

He lifted
his Axe high, gritting his teeth. The storm plucked Ambros from his fingers, and snatched it away.

Brand collapsed. He had fought so hard, for so long. He
was no longer able to function.

He felt himself falling, but he never felt the ground as it came up to meet him.
He fell so deeply asleep beside his bride that neither of them could be awakened until the next morning.

* * *

Trev rode the dragon into the gathering night. He glanced back frequently, and although the storm was far behind, he could always see it—he had not left it behind.

Fafna
tried to convince him to leave Cymru entirely, to fly south with the high winds and find warmer lands to inhabit. There were places there, seas and beaches. She did her best to create in the boy’s mind a paradise of warmth and beauty.

But when they reached the Haven, Trev finally spoke: “Take me home, friend. I wish to meet my end there.”

Grumbling, the dragon did as he asked. At dusk, they landed in his mother’s garden.

At first, Trev thought perhaps his mother wasn’t home. An icy dagger stabbed at his heart. To
have come all this way and then to be consumed alone—it didn’t seem fair.

But then the door slowly opened. A voice called out from within. A familiar voice.

“Trev? Is that you? Do you still draw breath?”

“
It’s me, mother,” he said, dismounting and walking through the vegetable garden.

He turned to the
dragon before he mounted the steps. “Thank you, Fafna,” he said. “Thanks for everything.”

“There’s no need for this,”
Fafna said, “climb up on my back again and let us fly.”

“We can’t outrun it forever. I’m the last one. It will follow us to the ends of the Earth and back again.”

The dragon looked up at the sky, and cursed the storm. It was coming, a dark cloud on the horizon. Each minute it grew larger, and already the winds were beginning to pick up.

“Trev, could you leave your…friend and come inside?” his mother
called from the safety of the porch. “It looks like a summer storm is blowing up.”

Trev smiled. His mother was like
no other in the Haven, with the possible exception of Telyn. She’d seen so much that not even finding a dragon in the garden could send her screaming.

“Coming, mother,” he said.

He turned back to the dragon. “You might live a very, very long time,” he told her. “Maybe long enough to see me again, if what Gudrin said is true.”

The
dragon nodded slowly. “Very well then, until we meet again.”

The
dragon’s wings snapped and caught the air. With a terrific downstroke, she climbed into the sky and vanished, heading south.

Part of Trev’s heart wished he’d gone with
her. But then he turned to his mother, who had rushed to grab him by the shoulders.

“Trev!” she scolded. “Imagine, bringing home a
dragon!
You’re worse than your father. I thought you might invite the thing in for tea.”

They embraced then, and Trev felt at home for the first time in many years. They walked inside, and they talked. He could barely hear what was said, such was his state of mind. He was full of sadness and joy at the same time.

At last, the hour came. The storm was outside, rolling around in a black gale that rattled the house and screamed around the eves.

Mari turned away from the windows, concerned.

“This is no natural storm, Trev,” she said. “What…is that a tear in your eye, boy?”

“Mum, I…I must go now.”

“Go? Go where?” she asked, clasping him.

“I don’t know. But I can’t come back.”

Her grip tightened.

“You have to let me go. The storm will take down the house. It may even consume us both.”

She was stunned. “I won’t let you go.”

“I talked to father. He’s at rest now. He said you made him happy.”

“Well, I’m not happy now!”

“Mum, I won’t die. Not really. I won’t come back for a thousand years, but if all the wisest are right, I
will
come back. I’ll live again. But you won’t be there to greet me.”

She clung to him and sobbed. The storm grew in strength, ripping shingles from the roof and breaking a window with one of them as it whipped it around the house. The walls shook and trembled.

“I’ve got to step outside before it destroys the cottage. Don’t make me watch you die. I must go.”

She looked at him and kissed him and caressed his cheek. Then she let him go.

“In a thousand years, son,” she said.

He nodded, then he opened the door and stepped outside.

The blackness was complete.

There were no stars. T
here was no ground. There was nothing but the storm.

Trev knew in his last moments where he was. He’d been here before. He was in the place that was nowhere, the place between the worlds, the empty voi
d of chaos. He wondered briefly where he would come to life again, and who his parents might be the next time.

And then, he was gone.

End of Dream Magic