Waking in Dreamland (28 page)

The process didn’t take long. Within moments, Brom broke the connection, and sent the brothers back to their cots.

“There,” he said. “That will give them the equivalent of a psychic hotfoot. We want them to go on their way at once. We have also given them some red herrings to follow, so they will waste energy following a confused path.”

Maniune was unimpressed. He crossed his arms. “We can still snuff ’em, chief,” he said, hopefully. Acton added a vigorous nod, and put his hand to his sidearm.

Brom’s eyelids lowered halfway over his glittering eyes. “No need. It’s a game, a contest, and we are winning. They have lost our trail, almost certainly irrevocably. They’re ahead of us now. We can carry on freely to our destination,” Brom said. “Go to sleep. We have much work ahead of us tomorrow. We are making an early start.”

“Nothing,” Spar said, disgustedly, returning to Roan. The princess and Colenna huddled in the shelter of a small overhang at the edge of the path a dozen yards from the end, sharing a single umbrella. Ivy and other plentiful plant life on the mountainside gave them a windbreak as thick as a bower on the southwest side of the road. “They’ve got clean away.”

“It’s this rain,” Misha said. “We might be able to find them again when it stops.”

“We need to find a place to camp for the night,” Roan said. He looked around.

“Why not here?” Felan asked, sweeping a hand out. “It’s flat. And, look, there are grapevines. I can send a message back to the palace.”

“The flat part, as you point it out,” Bergold said, very patiently, “is a public thoroughfare, my friend.”

“It’s a dead end,” Felan said. “No one will come this way.”

“I’d rather not stay,” Leonora said, clutching the umbrella handle with both hands. “I don’t like the atmosphere. Something feels wrong. The steeds sense it, too.”

“I don’t like it much myself,” Spar said. Roan nodded, spattering raindrops. “Something evilish happened here, it feels like. I don’t like not being able to see all the way around. Let’s go.”

“Then we’d better move on,” Bergold said. “I’m wet through, and I’d welcome a chance to rest, but not here.”

Roan suddenly found that he couldn’t wait to continue. “Agreed,” he said, hopping onto Cruiser. “It’s uphill, but it’s fairly gradual.”

“But, the grapevines?” Felan asked, pointing back toward the curtain of leafy trailers.

“Send your message and catch up with us,” Roan said impatiently. “We should be easy to find. There’s only one road. Hutchings, you stay with him.”

“Yessir,” the guard said, looking miserable.

The party had no choice but to turn around into the teeth of the rain, and begin pedaling uphill again. The downpour had lessened for a time, but it had resumed in full force. Cruiser’s tires slipped again and again on the gravel path.

At the first crossroads, Roan turned them toward the right. According to the map they were heading roughly north by northeast. The leaden sky was no help to orienteering, showing neither sun nor compass points among the blue isobars. Both right and left paths seemed to lead further up. It felt as if the upward angle got sharper the moment he started climbing. The next turn offered only more rising slopes.

“I don’t remember mountains this high on the map,” Bergold said, panting.

“I think I’m right,” Misha said, after a while. “These hills are moving. We should be hitting downslopes, but we’re always pedaling uphill.”

“The landscape is playing with us,” Colenna said, stoically. “Press on. That’s all we can do.”

By this time, Roan didn’t know if he was soaked with rain or sweat. The others were tiring quickly, and the sky grew darker. Leonora held out heroically, but at last she ran out of strength to pedal her golden steed. Roan tied a rope to Schwinn’s frame and helped pull them up a steep stretch of road, until he couldn’t ride any farther, either. Everyone dismounted and walked their weary steeds upward. Above him, Roan caught a glimpse of flat hilltop sheltered by trees with rain-heavy crowns.

“What about that?” Bergold said, poking him in the ribs from behind.

“It’ll do,” Roan said. “It had better. I hope it clears up before morning.”

At the crest of the hill, Roan turned to look back at the ground they had just covered. The countryside looked rather pretty in the rain, like a watercolor painting. The slopes that they had struggled to climb had subsided into green and gold meadows and downs. He hoped it didn’t mean the Dreamland itself was conspiring to allow Brom to reach his goal. Could even the Sleepers be curious about the scientist’s theory?

Though it was still raining hard, Roan and the guards took great care to make up the princess’s pavilion. Together, Roan, Misha and Bergold used their influence to join all of their cloaks into one big waterproof sheet to protect the rest of them. They attached it with a rope to the trees, creating a makeshift roof. There wasn’t quite enough room under it for the steeds, who clustered together out in the rain.

“I hope they won’t rust before morning,” Felan said, giving his steed a final pat.

“It shouldn’t hurt them,” Lum said. “They’re supposed to be all-weather beasts. Mine’s been through worse.”

With her all-purpose firelighter, Colenna made up a huge bonfire and lit the brazier inside the princess’s pavilion. Leonora thanked them all, and disappeared into her small tent. The others sprawled before the fire, grateful for the warmth. They let their outer clothes dry out somewhat before changing to crawl into their bedrolls to sleep.

Roan’s muscles ached. He thought of the tub of salve in his bag, but he was too tired to get up and use it. He listened to the pattering on the top of the tent and the murmuring of the wind in the trees.

“I may never move again,” Felan said, slipping into his cot with a sigh. “I don’t know how Brom got so far ahead of us, carrying that heavy load.”

“We’ve got to catch up with them tomorrow,” Spar said, from his regulation bag a few feet away. “I want a word with that Brom. A personal word.”

Chapter 17

A delicate clinking sound woke Roan. He was glad to escape from the troubling dream he was having. It was the same as the night before. He had been juggling dozens of eggs to constant applause. He knew that if he dropped one it would destroy the world. At the same time, he felt that he was an impostor, substituting for the real juggler. At any moment, he feared the audience would discover the imposture and walk out on him.

He listened. The rain had stopped falling. It was almost perfectly silent on the hilltop. He heard just the lightest tinkle of birdsong sound in a tree over his head, but that hadn’t been the sound that roused him. The air was dry and fragrant with flowers—and something else. He drew in a deep breath. It was the tantalizing smell of hot toast and scrambled eggs that tickled his nose. The warm scent came closer, mixed with an indefinable and exotic perfume. He opened his eyes. Leonora was standing over him, wearing her traveling clothes. She knelt beside him and put a finger to her lips.

“Would you like to have breakfast with me?” she asked in a whisper. Roan nodded. He flicked aside the cover of his sleeping bag and rolled to his feet.

It was just before false dawn. By the dim, rosy light, Roan could see the shadows that were the others asleep in their bunks. He walked carefully so he wouldn’t wake them. The princess, going soft-footed and silent, led him toward her pavilion.

Inside the little tent, a delicate little table was set for two. On it burned a pair of candles whose warm glow illumined silver chafing dishes, a china bowl heaped full of berries beside a matching pitcher, rows of gleaming silver utensils, a crystal jam pot and spoon, china, napkins edged with lace, a bud vase containing a single rose, and even a cut crystal water pitcher.

Roan helped Leonora to sit down, and waited for her nod to seat himself. He realized that there was soft music playing, quiet enough that the morning birdsong trilled louder.

“Now,” said the princess, flicking out a napkin with pleased satisfaction, “we can have a nice, leisurely breakfast without delaying anyone else. May I help you to some berries?”

“Allow me,” Roan said, reaching for the slotted silver spoon. He was full of admiration for her. After two days of hard travel, she had arisen early to make her toilet and prepare this regal setting with all the accouterments that she was accustomed to at home. Leonora was going to keep her promise, on her own terms. She might be having to live in a tent in the middle of nowhere, but she would do so in gracious, royal style. “It’s the very least I can do.”

“I’ll do it,” Leonora said, plucking the server out of his hands. She spooned berries into two shallow bowls and poured a liberal dollop of cream over each.

“How long must you have been awake to accomplish all this?” Roan asked, watching her slim hands move. “Hours?”

“I’m sure it isn’t quite that long. Will you have sugar?”

“Just a bit. And I’m sure it must be hours,” Roan said. “It’s as if a whole army of serv—” He stopped.

“No,” Leonora said, appearing not to notice his slip. “Just me.” She picked up a silver pot. Fragrant steam drifted out of its spout.

“Coffee, tea, or cocoa?” she asked.

“Coffee,” Roan said. She poured coffee for him, and, after a pause during which the silver pot thickened slightly and grew a broader spout, cocoa for herself. Both smelled ambrosial. Roan took a sip, and let out a sigh of pleasure. “Delicious.” Leonora beamed at him between the tapers.

“You do look beautiful in candlelight, my dear,” he said.

The dimple appeared in her cheek. “Thank you. You’re very gallant for such an early hour.”

“You inspire me,” Roan said. Hastily, he took a spoonful of berries.

“Don’t you wish you could fly after Brom, like you did when you came into Mnemosyne this last time?” Leonora asked, looking at him playfully over her cocoa cup.

“No,” Roan said, savoring the intimate, affectionate tone of her voice as much as he did the flavor of the berries. Their argument of the day before was forgiven, forgotten and gone. He was happy. “I can’t possibly picture anything I would have enjoyed more than this.”

“In spite of all the danger, in spite of the fear that this could be the end of the Dreamland?”

“I would sacrifice all comfort for a moment like this one, to be here with you,” Roan said, with all his heart in his words. “If the world ended now, I would have few regrets.” Leonora shook her head impatiently, disturbed by a thought of her own.

Roan reached for a morsel of bread and rolled it between thumb and forefinger into a penny. He offered it to Leonora. She took it, smiling at the childhood custom, but still looked worried. Roan waited patiently. Soon, she broke the silence.

“Roan, I’m scared.”

“So am I, my love,” he said. “All we can do is try.”

“We have to do more than that,” Leonora insisted. “We must succeed.”

Roan nodded resolutely. “Then, we will. If I live to catch up with Brom, there’s nothing he can do that will prevent me stopping him from carrying out his terrible plan.”

“And me,” Leonora said, with a tentative look.

“Yes,” Roan said, definitely. “You’re a part of this team. By the way, I have a present for you.”

Leonora cooed with delight as he handed over the little white box. She undid the ribbon, and he admired the smooth skin of her cheek and the sweep of her eyelashes in the candle’s glow.

“Gracious, what’s this?” She looked up at Roan with a twinkle in her eye as she freed the penknife from its cotton nest. She pulled open the blade attachment that happened to be a fifteen-inch crosscut saw, and delicately touched one of the sharp teeth. “Not the usual gift for a lady.”

“But very appropriate for a companion and partner,” Roan said. Leonora’s cheeks flushed with pleasure.

“I must have a serious talk with my father,” she said, suddenly. “It’s absurd of him to be so obstinate about letting you ask for my hand. He’s not holding out any hope at all. I just won’t have it. After all, where am I going to find a prince to marry who has all the same good qualities you do? The Waking World?” She laughed.

At the sound of her laughter, the rest of the party began to stir outside.

“A joke?” Bergold’s voice asked sleepily.

“A private one,” Roan said, smiling across the table at Leonora.

“Oh.
Oh!
Well, that’s a good sort, too,” Bergold said. He peered in the flap of the pavilion. His smooth, round face, curly hair, and long striped nightshirt and cap made him look like an enormous baby. “You enjoy it for me.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Roan said. He gazed at Leonora, whose eyes were large and dark with emotion, and beautiful. “I shall.”

The historian found his personal bag and picked his way across the encampment toward the cleaning area. Roan looked back at Leonora. Her eyes, a thoughtful dark blue, were fixed on him.

“Poor Roan,” she said. “Not only are you having to lead us, but you have to handle our hopes and fears and doubts and bouts of bad temper.”

“And I must deal with mine, too,” he said. “I’m almost afraid I’m leading you all on a fool’s errand. Some of the others think so, too. I can see it in Felan’s eyes every time I make a decision which way to turn. He thinks I’m a fraud as well as a freak. I’m the only one of us who has seen Brom anywhere but Mnemosyne. For all anyone knows, I could be his agent, keeping you out of the way until he manages to ring the Alarm Clock, for better or worse.”

“Nonsense,” Leonora said. “I know you’re honest. I see you worrying. You’re a good leader, better than you know. Thank you for this,” she said, holding up the blue penknife. “I’ll keep it in a very special place.”

She drew the tiny gold locket bearing an engraved capital
L
out of the neck of her silk tunic, and opened it. Roan peered over. The locket was special, given to her by her only aunt, the Duchess of Elysia, and a woman he admired very much, even though she had thwocked him over the wrist with a key or a ladle or whatever was handy many times during his childhood. Leonora cached her particular personal treasures in the little jewel.

“Do you remember this?” she asked, drawing out of it a crumpled and almost dry daisy chain. “You made this for me on my sixteenth birthday. I never told you, but I think I liked it more than any of the other presents I was given that day.”