Michael Stackpole - Chartomancy

So with Nelesquin’s surprise and a chance to see her grandfather again, she had no idea why she felt such dread. This is paradise. What could go wrong? Of course, anything could go wrong-everything. As her brother Keles once told her, “Just because you have flipped a coin a dozen times and it always comes up sun, the thirteenth time it could come up moon.”

She heard his voice as if he were walking with her. Nirati turned and saw the washed-out, ghostly image of her twin matching her strides. “Keles, is that you?”

He looked at himself, then at her curiously. “Is it, or is it how you desire to remember me?”

His question caught her off guard. She let him move ahead of her and glanced at his back, but she saw no scars from Viruk claws. “It’s you, but not as you are. Where are you? Are you a dream, or are we communicating in the manner you do with Grandfather?”

“I must be a dream. Communication with Grandfather has never been this clear, nor have I ever been able to reach you, Nirati.”

She nodded, certain he was correct. Then Takwee grabbed for Keles’ nearly transparent arm. Can Takwee see my dreams? “Where shall I dream you are?”

“In Felarati, a guest of Prince Pyrust.”

Nirati laughed. “Is that possible? I’d rather dream you in Ixyll. But if you are there, don’t go to the Empress. She will only torture and deceive you.”

“The Sleeping Empress? Why would she do that? She waits for us to reach her so she can help reestablish the Empire.” Keles smiled at her and Takwee cooed delightedly. “As long as you are dreaming, will you tell me where you are?”

Nirati opened her arms-letting an alarmed Takwee dangle from her right wrist. “I am in Kunjiqui. Grandfather made it for me. He created it and he… he brought me here when I died.” Is that right? Did I die?

“You cannot be dead, Nirati. The dead do not dream.”

Oh, but I think they do. I think they dream of being alive again. She brought her arms in over her chest and shivered. “You’re right, Keles; I am certain of it. But dreams are never certain, are they?”

“No. What of Grandfather and Jorim and Mother?”

“I’ve no news of Jorim, but no worries for him. Were I to dream him in Felarati, he would dream himself away again. With Mother I have no contact. Grandfather is well and happily at work. Are you not in contact with him?”

“The situation here is complicated enough that I don’t need him interrogating me. I can’t risk being distracted by his ire. When I am done, he’ll have a complete map of the new Felarati. Maybe that will please him, though my failure to complete the Ixyll survey will not.”

“He loves you. He loves us all.” She reached out to caress his face, but her fingers just moved through the image. Still, his face turned to her hand, and he would have kissed her palm had his lips not passed through it.

“Nirati.” Nelesquin’s voice boomed from high atop a distant hill. “Quickly, darling!”

With the echoes of his voice, the image of her brother evaporated. Takwee mewed sadly-the first real sign of any discontent on her part. Nirati’s heart sank a bit, but she salvaged the memory of Keles’ smile. She created its twin on her face, then, in three long strides, reached Nelesquin’s side.

He rested his hands on her shoulders and turned her back around to face whence she had come. He kissed the back of her head, then settled his large hands over her eyes. “Who was that I saw you with, Nirati?”

“My twin, Keles. I dreamed him.”

“Ah, I look forward to meeting him.”

“I warned him of Cyrsa.”

“Better he should warn her of me.” He laughed easily. “Now, my love, the surprise I promised you. Let me just turn us about.”

Neither of them moved. Instead, the whole top of the hill spun slowly. With his hands over her eyes, he hooked his elbows in front of her shoulders and drew her tight against his broad chest. He held her there for a moment, then rested his chin on her head.

“Behold, beloved, what we have wrought.”

His hands fell away and she opened her eyes. She blinked, quickly, for so much sunlight glinted from thousands of pinpoints that she almost shifted day to night to protect her eyes. But they would shine just as brightly in the dark, I am certain.

Below her, the land had sunk between two mountain ranges. Vast plains isolated the foothills from the slender finger of deep blue water thrust deep into the land. On that narrow ocean bobbed dozens of ships-none as large as the Stormwolf, but each large enough to carry hundreds of soldiers. Other ships waited next to quays or in dry docks, ready to be launched.

At the hill’s base, nine formations-nine ranks deep, nine men wide-stood tall and proud in silver mail, with glowing silver helmets. The sunlight reflected from their weapons-and Nirati knew that each ship could carry just such a unit. They reminded her of the ranks of the Naleni army and the Keru, save these men had a blue cast to their flesh, jet-black hair, and-if the two nearest them were models for their race-amber eyes like those of a cat.

The two men approaching them differed from the others in that their armor and helmets had been washed with gold. At twenty feet each dropped to a knee and pounded his right fist to his left shoulder in a salute. They bowed their heads and held those bows for longer than she had ever seen before.

Beyond the time required for a Prince. Then it occurred to her that she had seen such a bow held before. In a temple, when one sought the favor of the gods.

Their heads came up and they both rose as Nelesquin beckoned them forward. They still stopped a respectful distance-just out of reach-yet they had an arrogance that she found both attractive and frightening.

Nelesquin waved a hand toward the one with a snarling ram crest on his helmet. “This is Gachin. He is Dost of the Durrani host. Keerana is his second-in-command.”

Gachin’s eyes narrowed, and the sharpened tips of his ears were visible through hair as he doffed his helmet. Still, he gave her a respectful smile. “The goddess honors us by visiting as we embark. The invasion of the Empire has already begun, but we shall consolidate it, as you desire, goddess.”

Invasion? As I desire? She vaguely recalled Nelesquin mentioning a need to position himself to defend against Cyrsa, but invasion had not been part of it. And yet while she tried to remember what exactly had been said, a part of her knew that invasion was the only way his goals could be accomplished.

Keerana watched her closely. “The goddess is not pleased?”

She shook her head quickly. “It is only the thought of your departure so quickly after our meeting that displeases me. I am certain you will be successful with your endeavor.”

“We shall, goddess, then you shall come with our Lord Nelesquin and reside in Kelewan. We shall raze Quun’s home and build you the most beautiful temple.” Gachin bowed his head confidently.

“Though no temple,” offered his subordinate, “could ever approach your beauty, goddess.”

Nelesquin laughed, then dismissed the two of them with a wave. “Go to your ships. You will take Kelewan and secure all of Erumvirine. From there we shall march north.”

Gachin bowed again, but Keerana raised an eyebrow. “My lord, I would ask your consent on a matter.”

Nelesquin folded arms over his chest. “Speak.”

Though Nelesquin’s tone had not been inviting, Keerana did not quail. “Lord Nelesquin, once we have had the glory of returning Kelewan to your possession, I ask permission to take a third of our force and range south. I have studied all you have made available, and I believe that the Five Princes, in their jealousy and envy, will rise. I wish to punish them swiftly so my lord’s further plans shall not be hampered.”