The Princess of Trelian (24 page)

As they went back down the hallway, Meg asked, “Do you think he’s lying?”

Calen shrugged. “I think he’s a liar. I can’t tell if he’s lying about this in particular, though. It is hard to guess what reason he might have to do so.”

“I think he really is sorry about everything that happened,” Meg said.

“I don’t care if he’s sorry,” Calen said. “I still don’t trust him. Anyone who would do the things he was going to do, for any reason . . .”

“I know. I just keep thinking about how his own mother was lying to him, practically his whole life, poisoning his mind . . . it’s hard to see his behavior as entirely his own fault.”

“Maybe not entirely, Meg, but he still knew the difference between right and wrong. He was going to kill Maerlie. You can’t just forgive something like that.”

“No, of course not! I didn’t mean that. I just meant . . . I don’t know.” She shook her head. “If someone you trusted completely convinced you that in order to right some terrible wrong, you had to kill someone . . .”

“Meg, listen to yourself. Would you let yourself be talked into killing someone? Even by someone you trusted completely?”

“I’d kill Sen Eva,” she said darkly. “Wouldn’t you?”

“Well, that’s — that’s different,” Calen said, a little shaken. “She tried to kill you. Us. And your sister, and who knows who else. She was behind everything.”

“Well, what if I had just told you everything that she’d done? What if you weren’t there, and only had my word to go on? You trust me, don’t you? Wouldn’t you believe me if I told you she was dangerous and had to be stopped?”

“Yes,” Calen said. “I would believe you. And I would try to help you however I could. But I don’t think I would let myself be talked into trying to kill someone. Not even her. Not even — not even for you. Even after everything, if she was standing right in front of me, right now, and I had the chance . . . I don’t know. I don’t know if I could do it.”

Meg was silent, apparently thinking this over.

“And don’t forget,” Calen went on, “Sen Eva had convinced Wilem that your father was responsible for killing his brother and father. But he wasn’t even planning to take his revenge on your father directly. He was going to kill Maerlie, who even Sen Eva admitted had nothing to do with their deaths.”

“I know. I haven’t forgotten that.”

“Why are you trying so hard to understand what he did?”

“I’m just trying to figure out if we can trust him. If maybe he really could be on our side, now. He gave himself up, Calen.”

“Unless that was all part of the plan.”

“I know. I thought of that, too. But you were there. Did it seem like part of the plan to you? When she left and he stayed?”

It had definitely not seemed like part of the plan. But how could they know for sure? Some people were really good at being deceptive. “I don’t know, Meg. It just seems safer not to trust him. Why give him a chance to trick us all a second time?”

She was quiet again for a moment. “Yes,” she said then. “I guess you’re right.”

Serek listened with his usual lack of expression as they explained to him about Wilem’s and Meg’s dreams. Anders was there, too, and he asked lots of questions to clarify things they said.

“Fascinating,” Anders said when they were through. Meg and Calen both stared at him. “Well,” he went on, “terrible, too, of course, but you can’t deny that it’s fascinating. Manipulation through dreams! This Sen Eva must be powerful, indeed. Such a shame she’s, ah, evil and all that.”

“Yes, we’re all very disappointed about that part,” Calen said dryly.

Meg laughed. “Sorry,” she whispered when Calen raised his eyebrows at her in inquiry. “You sounded a lot like Serek just then.”

Before Calen could object — he did not sound like Serek! — Serek himself stood up. “We’ll have to be there tonight when Wilem falls asleep,” he said as he walked over to the bookshelf behind his desk. “I’ll need to do some research, but I think we should be able to figure out whether someone is sending him the dreams or not.”

“Will we be able to tell for sure if it’s Sen Eva?” Calen asked.

“Possibly. Although if anyone is sending them, she seems a fairly safe bet. The more important question is whether we can block them somehow.”

“Can we?”

Serek eyed Calen over his shoulder. “That’s what the research is for, Apprentice. Grab a chair and get comfortable.”

“But I thought you were suspending my lessons,” Calen said, then cursed himself for being an idiot.

Serek turned around to face him. “I am. This isn’t a lesson; it’s research. Are you saying you don’t want to help?”

“No, sir.”

“Then get to work.”

Calen did as he was told. Meg stood up. “Thank you, Mage Serek, Mage Anders. I’m going to go let my parents know what we’ve discussed.”

She frowned a little, and Calen suspected she was wondering whether her parents would even want to talk to her right now. They had been really, really angry. Calen thought he understood why; it must be hard having a daughter like Meg, who didn’t always do as she was told. Of course, he didn’t always do as he was told, either, but that was different. And Meg always — well, usually — had a good reason for doing the things she did. But having an impulsive daughter who was also a princess, who also happened to be linked to a dragon . . . well, no wonder the king and queen were having trouble adjusting. He hoped they would get more used to everything soon, though. Meg seemed really upset about the way they were acting toward her.

“Oh, but wait, Meg,” Calen said, suddenly remembering. “What about
your
dreams?”

Serek looked up from the book he was holding. “I think we should deal with Wilem’s dreams first. They seem the most immediately dangerous. If we’re successful with Wilem tonight, we can try blocking Meg’s tomorrow. Is that acceptable, Princess?”

“Yes, I think so.” She looked at Calen uneasily, though. Again Calen thought he knew what she was thinking. If Meg’s dreams were causing Jakl’s crazy behavior, they might be even more dangerous than Wilem’s. They hadn’t explained that part to Serek and Anders yet. Meg had wanted to wait, and Calen . . . Calen had agreed because it was what she wanted. Well, he would help her with that part on his own. He knew more about dragons and linking than Serek and Anders did, anyway. And one more day probably wouldn’t make much difference.

That night, they went back up to Wilem’s chambers. It was crowded in the small bedroom; Anders sat on one side of the bed, Serek and Calen on the other. Meg had insisted on being present as well, even though she wouldn’t be doing anything other than watching. Serek had made her promise to be absolutely silent and still the entire time. She stood off to one side, leaning against the wall. Wilem sat down on the bed, still fully dressed, looking faintly embarrassed.

“I must admit,” he said, looking around at them, “I can’t see how I’m going to be able to fall asleep with all of you here.”

“We can help you with that,” Anders said. “Just lie back and relax.”

Wilem obediently lay back, and Anders closed his eyes. They’d talked about this earlier, back in Serek’s study. They didn’t think anyone sending the dreams would be able to tell whether Wilem’s sleep was natural or magically induced, but just in case, Anders was using the magic only to make him fall asleep, not to keep him asleep. As Calen watched, Anders touched Wilem’s forehead with a whisper-thin tendril of blue energy. Wilem’s breathing changed at once, becoming slow and even. Anders released the magic and opened his eyes. They would wait long enough to feel certain Wilem was safely deep in slumber and then start the rest of the spell.

There had been some discussion between Serek and Anders regarding whether Calen should be allowed to be present for this whole procedure. Ultimately, Serek had decided that if Sen Eva was able to use dream magic in this way, it might be a good idea for Calen to know how to block it. After all, what if Sen Eva’s influence was what would lead to Calen’s acting against the Magistratum as everyone feared he would? Anders had argued against trying to circumvent predictions in that way, but in the end he’d agreed that in this case, the benefits outweighed the risks. Calen tried to be grateful, but he was still angry that there had been any question about it at all.

But Calen was there
only
to observe, Serek had informed him. Several times. It was a delicate enough spell even for experienced mages like Serek and Anders, and they were not going to start teaching Calen how to fully participate in a joint casting, anyway. They’d had to work out exactly how to focus the spell based on similar techniques that other mages had written up. There wasn’t a lot of information about trying to control other people through their dreams, since no properly marked mage would likely attempt such a thing. Not following the rules kept giving Sen Eva all kinds of unfair advantages, in Calen’s opinion.

There had been information about a kind of voluntary dream sharing, which was what they would be using to gain access to Wilem’s dreams. Calen wondered if he’d inadvertently used some variant of this same spell when he’d worked with Meg to summon Jakl, back when they’d been lost in the forest. Serek still wasn’t sure how he’d managed that at all, since Meg wasn’t a mage herself, and she shouldn’t have been able to participate in any kind of casting. One more mystery for the list, Calen supposed. The list was getting very long.

“I think he’s ready,” Anders said quietly. Serek nodded. They began casting in unison, white and black energy — communication and concealment, as far as Calen had been able to reason out so far. There was also a touch of blue energy, which had something to do with sleeping and soothing. The two men’s spells were perfect mirror images. The colors gathered, swirling together to create a kind of soft-edged beam. Then, slowly, the beam extended to form a delicate link among Anders, Serek, and Wilem, joining them within the circuit of the spell.

“Now, Calen,” Serek said quietly, “see if you can join in without adding anything. And be careful.”

Very carefully, Calen tried to open himself to the spell, drawing off a tendril of the magic energy flowing between Wilem and Serek. He let it flow through him, not touching it, not adding anything, just letting it pass through his consciousness and back out toward Serek and continuing along its way. Serek hoped this would let Calen share in what they were seeing without his being actively involved in the casting. Once Calen felt secure in his position within the circle, he whispered to Serek, “Okay.”

“All right,” Serek answered. “Stay back, no matter what happens. Here we go.”

The beam of energy began to widen, growing fainter and more diffuse as it slowly spread to surround them. Wilem’s image grew hazy to Calen’s eyes, and then the bed and Serek and Anders and the rest of the room were gone, and there was nothing but blue-gray haze all around him.

And then suddenly he could see Wilem again. Wilem seemingly both lying down, asleep, and sitting up in his bed, wide-eyed with alarm.

“No,” Wilem said, his voice hoarse. “Please stop this.” Calen didn’t think he was talking to anyone actually there in the room.

Something that was not quite a voice, not quite a thought, passed through the shared space between them. It carried images with it — images of Wilem sneaking through the dark shadows of the castle hallways, images of his room guards slumped down on the floor, images of hands pushing doors open and hands holding knives and hands reaching toward a sleeping figure on a bed. The sleeping figure shimmered into different shapes: it was Meg; it was Maurel; it was Queen Merilyn, King Tormon; it was Serek; it was Calen himself.

Calen tried to hold himself still, not reacting, not doing anything, just watching, but he could feel his slow, careful breathing threatening to quicken beyond his control. Those images definitely seemed to be coming from somewhere else; Wilem was not creating them on his own. Wilem was still struggling, the images beginning to swirl increasingly swiftly around him, becoming a tangible force that seemed to lift him from the bed, pushing him up and toward the door. The cycle always seemed to end with images of Wilem leaving the castle, escaping into the night, running toward . . . something. Someone. A familiar presence, waiting to welcome him. Wilem seemed terrified, seemed to be resisting, but Calen still wasn’t sure about that part. He knew Wilem was a good actor. His apparent terror could all still be part of the plan.

Something shifted in the magic energy flowing through him, and Calen tried to focus on what was happening there. He heard Serek’s voice, from a strange distance, cry out, “Now!” And then it was like a portcullis slamming down, surrounding Wilem and pushing Calen back out into the room. Calen caught a glimpse of a solid wall of orange and black as he fell backward and landed painfully on the floor, his chair overturned beside him.

Serek’s face came into view above him, and he felt hands helping him back up. Meg was there, righting his chair and looking very shaken. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” He looked at Serek. “Was that supposed to happen?”

Serek actually looked slightly embarrassed. “Sorry,” he said. “I’d forgotten that since you weren’t involved in the casting, you wouldn’t be prepared for the shield going into place. I had to, ah, sort of push you out of the way. Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” Calen said again. “Just a little dizzy. That was — that was pretty interesting.”

“What happened?” Meg asked. “I couldn’t see anything except Wilem having convulsions on the bed, and then you slammed back out of your chair.”

“We were sort of watching his dream,” Calen said. “I think.” He looked at Serek. “Is that what that was? And then you blocked it, at the end?”

Serek nodded. “Those dreams are definitely being sent. I couldn’t tell for certain that it was Sen Eva, but she still seems the most likely guess.”

Calen glanced up and saw Anders finishing up something with the last part of the spell. Tying it off somehow? He supposed that made sense; they needed something that would continue to block the dreams without their being there every night.

After a moment more, Anders released the ends of the spell and reached forward to touch Wilem on the shoulder. The older boy’s eyes flew open, and he sat up.