Dreamweaver Read online

  Virilian smiled. It was a cold expression, more predatory than human. “Do as you are commanded, Lord Antonin, and the rest will follow, I promise you.” He paused. “Or should I say, Secundus Antonin.”

  He bowed his head in assent. What other option was there? “I will do my best,” he promised.

  As Secundus, he had no choice.

  The great black doors that led to the Chamber of Souls were carved with a thousand images, gracefully horrific. Demons and skeletons, dead men and dying men, accidents and slaughters: images from the Lost Worlds, depicting civilizations that had died because of the Shadowlords. Combined into one great mural, they served as a reminder of the awesome power the Guild wielded, and also of the responsibility that came with that power.

  Tracing one of the black carvings with his finger, Lord Antonin remembered the day he had brought his son down here. He had hoped to inspire Isaac with the grandeur of a Shadow’s heritage, to show his son that by joining the umbrae majae he would become part of something greater. Something eternal. But it was a mistake. He understood that now. One could not fit a square peg into a round hole by praising the nature of roundness. So which was more painful: the loss of his only son, or the fact that he had only himself to blame for driving the boy away? Remorse and guilt were both dangerous emotions for the undead, but they were hard to banish. Even as a Shadowlord, he was still half human.

  Responsibility. That was the message of these doors. There was no room for impulse in the Shadowlords’ world, nor for the kind of hot-blooded passion that drove living men to acts of desperation and folly. When you had the power to condemn an entire world to death, you could not allow yourself to be driven by emotion. So why did he get the sense that Virilian was doing just that?

  With a whispered word he commanded one of the ghosts in attendance to help him unlock the doors, and he entered the Chamber of Souls.

  No matter how many times he came here, he never failed to experience a sense of awe as he entered. In that moment before one’s eyes adjusted, the tiny golden stars suspended in an endless black void seemed almost mystical, and one could imagine oneself standing in the center of the universe, surrounded by the music of a thousand worlds. Then other details took shape, and one could see pedestals with ancient books stored on them, topped by glass domes with tiny golden soul fetters suspended inside them. Each fetter contained the memories of a past Shadowlord, the imprint of a human soul, and the book stored beneath it contained the history of that soul.

  Back when Virilian had first announced that he intended to Commune with a Dark fetter, Antonin had come here to research the Shadowlord the Guildmaster had chosen. But the biography of Shekarchiyandar had revealed very little, other than the fact that he was a key figure in the Dream Wars, renowned for his ability to root out and destroy Dreamwalkers. That was all. His real name was not even recorded, only the title he had been granted during that conflict, which translated to Lord of Hunters. Antonin knew there were additional tales in the Guild archives about Shekarchiyandar’s exploits—fantastic tales—but those could not be trusted. The man was a legend, and the biographies of legends were notoriously unreliable.

  But other Shadowlords had interacted with Shekarchiyandar during the Dream Wars, and their biographies must surely contain references to him. Which meant that somewhere in the thousands of handwritten volumes, Antonin might discover information about the dark fetter that Virilian had Communed with—and perhaps discover why all the other Shadowlords who had attempted to absorb Shekarchiyandar’s memories had suffered the true death soon afterward. Hopefully he could accomplish that before the same thing happened to Virilian.

  Or at least save his own family from the fallout.

  10

  LURAY

  VIRGINIA PRIME

  ISAAC

  EYES. There were eyes everywhere. Isaac could feel them fixed on him no matter where he went, no matter how deep a shadow he hid in. Were people staring at the strange flesh-colored patch on his forehead, wondering what it was? Did some of them remember seeing him days earlier, when he was wandering lost through the city with his Guild’s damning mark emblazoned across his forehead? Did they wonder if he had been forgiven by the Shadows, or had just found some way to dodge their justice?

  He couldn’t bring himself to go into the pawn shop with Jessica. He told her who to talk to, and how to deliver a message so it would be passed along to Sebastian, but more than that he couldn’t do for her. The thought of going inside a shop and standing mere yards away from other people—maybe people he had once known—was more than he could handle.

  So many eyes . . .

  He watched from the shadowy alcove of a nearby townhouse entrance as she went inside, but the pawn shop’s blinds were drawn, so he couldn’t see her after that. The owner of the shop was the same contact the leader of the Warrens tribe had used to send a message to Sebastian back when Jesse and her friends had first arrived on Terra Prime. In theory Isaac knew how the process worked, though he’d never used it himself. Go inside and ask for something in green. Say it’s the only color you are interested in. Mention whatever information you wanted relayed, preferably in a cryptic form that only the Green Man will understand. Payment isn’t required, but if you want to offer something, give him money to hold an item for you, and don’t ask for a receipt.

  Back in his Warrens days Isaac had seen the pawnbroker get hold of Sebastian in record time, so he knew this message was likely to be delivered expediently. Hopefully when Sebastian got it he would come quickly. If he came at all, that was. Now that Isaac knew the Green Man’s history, he understood that Sebastian hungered for news of his homeworld, and as soon as he had learned there were new visitors from Terra Colonna he had rushed to meet them. But this time things were different. He might not come.

  The fact that Jessica spoke of Sebastian like he was a friend disturbed Isaac. The Green Man was a mercenary, and she would do well to remember that. The last time Sebastian had helped them, they’d paid him with artifacts from Jesse’s world and one of Isaac’s fetters. Not to mention other information Jessica might have given him, that Isaac didn’t know about. So what would the price be this time? All the tales of the Green Man agreed on one point: he never did anything for free.

  She comes from a more trusting world than mine. Here, everyone’s motives are suspect.

  Finally the door opened and Jesse emerged, holding a brown envelope in one hand. When she looked around for him he stepped into the light to wave her over, then fell back into shadow while she crossed the street to join him. When she reached the alcove she opened the envelope and tipped it forward so he could see the money inside it. “Not as much as I expected,” she said. “But I guess that’s the price you pay for a quick sale.”

  “Did you sell everything?”

  She hesitated. “I kept the rings. I figure I can always sell them later if I need to.”

  He smiled slightly. The expression felt strangely alien, a memory from another life. “You’re hoping to give them back to your mother when you get home.”

  She flushed. “Yeah.” She put the envelope into her backpack and tied the latter securely shut. “When you get home. I like the sound of that. Not, if you get home.”

  “Well, you know me,” he said dryly. “I’m an optimistic sort of chap.” He nodded toward the shop. “Will he pass on your message?”

  “I think so. Hard to be sure, with no one saying anything directly.”

  “Did you pay him?”

  She nodded. “There’s a big tasteless ring he’s supposedly holding for me.” She settled the backpack onto her shoulder again. “So what now? We just wait?”

  “Where did you ask Sebastian to meet you?”

  “Same place as last time. Hopefully he’ll realize I meant the docks. You said not to name anything directly—”

  “Because we don’t know how many people will be involved in relayin
g the message to him. Best to say nothing specific.”

  “I didn’t realize he was so . . . organized.”

  “He has ears everywhere, Jessica. This city is full of people who owe him favors. That’s how he managed to survive for so long.” His mouth tightened. “He sells information. You understand that, right? Anything he learns from you, he may pass on to someone else if the price is right.”

  She said it quietly: “He won’t sell my secrets.”

  “You don’t know all his—”

  “He won’t sell my secrets.” She glared at him. “Drop it, okay?”

  He sighed. “I’m just worried for you.”

  Her expression softened. “I know. I know.” She sighed. “So what now? We go to the docks and wait for him to show up?”

  “There’s no guarantee,” he warned her.

  “He’ll come,” she said firmly. She hitched her pack up onto her shoulder. “He may not agree to help us, but he’ll definitely want to know why I summoned him.”

  They sat on a slatted bench facing the river, watching moonlight play over the water and eating food Jesse had bought from a street vendor earlier that evening. The fatty hamburgers and cold fries didn’t sit well in Isaac’s stomach after two weeks of near-starvation, and his legs still ached from the long walk across town, but he didn’t complain. Even an ex-Shadow had his pride.

  Hours had passed since they’d begun their vigil and still there was no sign of the Green Man. Jesse was becoming more and more anxious, but Isaac was unsurprised. He wondered if he should remind her that since they didn’t know where Sebastian would be when he got her message—if he got it at all—they couldn’t possibly predict how long it would take him to join them. Even if he did eventually come, they might be sitting on this bench for a quite a while.

  Suddenly she stiffened; Isaac followed her gaze and saw a man walking along the boardwalk, heading toward them. He wasn’t wearing a long coat bedecked with fetters this time, but a simple cotton jacket and jeans, casually unremarkable. His walk, however, was anything but casual, and when he saw the two of them sitting there his pace quickened. A gust of wind blew strands of a white ponytail over his shoulder, settling any doubt about who he was.

  Jessica stood as Sebastian came closer, anxiety giving way to visible relief. But there was a hint of fear in the mix as well. If he refused to help, she and Isaac would have to go on to the Badlands alone. Clearly she wasn’t as confident about that option as she had been pretending.

  Sebastian stopped a few yards from them and for a moment just stood there, studying Jessica. Isaac apparently didn’t exist in his universe. “I’m surprised you came back here.” His voice sounded oddly strained.

  “Yeah.” She laughed shortly. “You and me both.”

  “Was it by your own free will?”

  She nodded. “All my own idea.” The fleeting smile faded. “I have business here.”

  His mouth tightened slightly. “Which I’m guessing you want my help with, else you wouldn’t have summoned me.” For the first time since arriving he looked directly at Isaac. That he didn’t like him was obvious. “What about this one?”

  “He’s helping me.”

  Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure that’s wise, given his background?”

  Annoyed at being discussed in the third person, Isaac said, “I’m not a Shadow anymore.”

  Sebastian nodded, but his expression didn’t soften. “I heard about that.”

  “Is it a problem for you?”

  “I rarely care what Guilds think. Least of all yours.”

  It’s not my Guild anymore! Isaac wanted to protest. But if he started arguing about the technicalities of his exile, Sebastian might get annoyed enough to walk off and leave them on their own. And Jesse would never forgive him for that. So he swallowed his pride and muttered, “That makes two of us.”

  Jesse offered, “I couldn’t have contacted you without his help.”

  There was a pause. “As you wish.” It was clear from Sebastian’s tone that he was less than happy about the situation. “So tell me why you summoned me.”

  “You remember the reapers?”

  “It’s hard to forget such dismal creatures.”

  “I think I know where I can find the information I need to destroy them.”

  Isaac watched Sebastian for reaction, but the man just said quietly, “Go on.”

  “The tower I’ve seen in my dreams, I think really exists. If not on Terra Prime, then somewhere I can access from here. It’s connected to both the Dreamwalkers and the reapers.”

  “And you learned about its location . . . how?”

  “A Dreamwalker told me.”

  Sebastian’s eyes widened in surprise; Isaac was perversely pleased to see him taken off guard. “There’s more than one of you?” he asked at last. “Fully manifested?”

  “Well, I don’t know how manifested she is, but yes, there’s at least one more. She walks in dreams like I do—well, sort of like I do—and seems to know about our kind.”

  “Well.” Sebastian stared off into the distance, as if remembering something. “That might explain about Virilian.”

  Isaac said, “What about Virilian?”

  Sebastian looked at him. “Rumor has it he’s decided to rid the entire universe of Dreamwalkers. Given that they were supposedly wiped out in the Dream Wars, some consider that a bit unhinged. I thought perhaps it might be a reaction to—” He hesitated, then looked back at Jesse. “To recent activity. But if there are other Dreamwalkers active, and he knows about them, then such a reaction would make sense. Perhaps he sees them as an ancient force returning to the world, one that his Guild swore to eradicate.”

  “But how would he even know about her?” Jesse asked. “I can’t imagine the girl who contacted me would reveal herself to him. She didn’t even trust me, at first.”

  He shrugged. “Who can say where a master necromancer gets his information? Maybe he learned something during his last Communion. It’s rumored he submitted to that morbid ritual yet again, so now he has a new lifetime’s worth of memories to work with. Maybe the last soul he consumed knew more about the Dreamwalkers than Virilian did.” He glanced coldly at Isaac. “I don’t suppose you heard anything about that.”

  Isaac bit back on the sharp retort that was his first impulse. “I haven’t been keeping up with Guild news.”

  “If all that’s true,” Jessica said, “this trip just became ten times more dangerous.”

  “And not only for you,” Sebastian muttered.

  “What do you mean?”

  He said nothing.

  “Sebastian?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

  “Where is this place you want to go? I’m guessing it’s not local, since you wouldn’t need me for that.”

  “It’s in the Badlands.”

  A white eyebrow rose slightly. “God’s love . . . you don’t make things easy on yourself, do you girl?”

  “Think of all you could learn there,” she urged. “Legends put to the test. Hidden knowledge revealed. Think of how much information you could collect, once we figure out how to get in and out of there safely.”

  “I collect information because it helps me stay alive,” he reminded her. “A goal not furthered by suicidal expeditions. What makes you think you can survive in that place, where so many others who have tried to explore it have failed?”

  “Because it’s a Dreamwalker who wants me to go there. Maybe she’ll give me more instructions when we arrive. Or maybe I’ll have to figure things out on my own, based on the clues I’ve already got. Either way, I’m willing to bet the other people who went there didn’t have Dreamwalker help.”

  “And what if she’s worried about the company you keep?” He looked pointedly at Isaac. “What if she would rather see you silenced before you can reveal too many Dreamwalker
secrets, and having you disappear in a place where no one could find your body or enslave your spirit would be a perfect solution?”

  Shaken, Jesse stared at him for moment; for the first time since her return, doubt was visible in her eyes. “Look, I only have two choices. I can follow this lead and hope it’s legit, or I can go home and wait for the reapers to show up and kill everyone I love. Including me. There’s no other option. So unless you have a better plan to offer, that means I’m going to the Badlands. And you and Isaac are the only two people I would trust to come with me.”

  Sebastian looked away. “Don’t trust me. Don’t trust anyone on this world. There are games being played behind the scenes that you know nothing about, games that will swallow you whole—”

  “Then let’s go where those games have no power.” She put a hand on his arm. “Please, Sebastian.” When he didn’t respond she added, very softly, “I need you.”

  He shut his eyes for a moment, looking pained. “Ah, Jessica . . .” He sighed heavily. “I’ll go with you as far as the border of the Badlands, and see what the situation is. Beyond that, I make no promises.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured. “Thank you.” Her hand fell away from his arm.

  “Go find a place where the two of you can rest up, some place better than a park bench. You both look exhausted. I’ll meet you back here at nine in the morning to finalize plans. After that . . .” His voice trailed off into silence. He turned away, but not before Isaac saw the turmoil in his eyes. This was not the Sebastian that Isaac remembered from their travels together. This version made Isaac much more wary.

  “May God protect us,” said Sebastian. And he walked off into the night without looking back.

  11