Anne Bishop - Bridge of Dreams

::One hour. Riding. South.::

“An hour’s ride south of here?” Zhahar asked.

The woman clapped her hands, indicating delight.

“Thank you.” Smiling, Zhahar blinked away tears of relief. “Thank you.”

=We can go back to the travel station where we arrived and find out if there are any coaches going south,= Zeela said.

After thanking the woman again, Zhahar lugged their baggage back to the archway. Then Zeela came into view and took over and got them to the station.

They had to wait a couple of hours for the next southbound coach. Not liking the look of most of the food being sold at the convenient stands, Zeela settled for a piece of fruit and small jug of water.

The possibility of seeing Danyal again had perked up Sholeh enough for her to pay attention to their surroundings. That allowed Zhahar some time to submerge and rest—and think her own thoughts. Shaman Danyal was an hour’s ride away, and that was good.

But where was Lee? If she asked, would Danyal tell her?

The wooden sign at the top of the lane was well made but small enough to be easily overlooked. Under the words SEEING HEART were symbols for the eye and heart. That indicated not everyone who came searching for this place could read.

You can find only what you can see , Zhahar thought. And you can see only what you truly want to find.

She and Zeela had debated for the entire ride south which of them should approach whoever was in this place. She had experience as a Handler, but the people in the small community where they had disembarked had said it was a school. A Handler wasn’t a teacher. On the other hand, a journeyman of the Knife Guild probably wouldn’t find much work at a school either.

In the end, they decided Zhahar would be the one to approach and ask for Danyal.

The lane was still rutted in places and was bordered by frost-killed weeds, but it showed signs of someone making slow but steady effort to make it more passable. Zhahar caught glimpses of buildings between the trees but couldn’t see much. Then she got close enough to see why.

A living green wall that topped out a finger’s length above her head stretched out in both directions. On either side of the lane were tall metal posts. The metal bar gate was open now, but she thought it was probably locked after sunset—a good assumption, since there was a bell on one of the posts that could summon someone if there was a late arrival.

Shabby buildings that looked like they were being fixed up. Grounds that looked like they were being cleaned up. And…

*That’s Nik,* Zhahar said. *And over there. That’s Kobrah!*

As she hurried forward to catch up to Kobrah, she noticed other people. Denys. Some of the borderline inmates from the southern Asylum. And Danyal.

She changed direction and hurried as best she could, wanting to drop all the baggage and be free of the weight. “Shaman!”

He turned toward her voice, and for a moment she thought he wouldn’t acknowledge her—or didn’t recognize her. Then he strode toward her, swiftly closing the distance.

“Zhahar?”

::I don’t think he wants to see us,:: Sholeh whispered.

“I should go,” she said, stepping back.

“No.” Danyal grabbed the handle of one of the traveling bags. “No. I’m just surprised to see you. You were given Heart’s Justice. How did you get here?”

“We ended up in the northwest part of Vision.”

“The northwest absorbed a lot of the wizards’ kind of darkness,” he said, studying her.

“Yes. We tried…Zeela did the best there, but Sholeh and I were too much of a burden.”

=My sisters are not a burden,= Zeela snapped.

“Why are you here, Sholeh Zeela a Zhahar?” he asked gently.

“We came looking for work.”

“But why here?”

“We went to The Temples and asked for you, hoping you’d have some suggestions or advice. A woman told us about this place and that you were here.”

“I see. So you’re looking for work. All of you?”

Remembering how little time Sholeh had been in view over the past few weeks and what that had done to their youngest sister, she lifted her chin as a small defiance. “Yes, all of us.”

“Is Sholeh still interested in scholarly work?” Danyal asked. “Because we’ve got stacks of donated books that need to be organized, and everything from fine prints of paintings to rough charcoal sketches of places that all need to be sorted in a way that will help us figure out where those places might be. We have two Supervisors—meaning Nik and Denys—and a couple of Helpers, but we’re looking for some help with sorting out the students and working out what each of them needs in order to take the next step in the journey. And the Knife is looking at people from his guild to stay here as guards to help keep order.”

We? Zhahar wondered as her heart gave a funny little jump.

::I still like books,:: Sholeh said. ::Tell him, Zhahar!::

She swallowed hard. “Sholeh is very interested in working with the books and pictures. And Zeela earned her journeyman’s badge in the Knife Guild.”

“What about you, Zhahar?” Danyal asked softly. “What do you want?”

Love. “I think I could learn to be a counselor.”

“Is that all you want?”

“I don’t know.” She hesitated. Then, because it was Danyal, she blurted out the truth. “I’m so scared. We almost lost Sholeh, and I’m scared to want anything but a safe place where we can all survive.”

Danyal studied her. Then he nodded. “All right. If you want the work, we could use the help.”

Her legs felt weak with relief. “We want the work.”

He took the big traveling bag off her shoulder and slipped it over his. He pointed behind her. “The staff has suites of rooms in that building. They’re clean and repaired, but they’re not pretty. We’ll be feeling the full touch of winter soon, so we focused on getting the functional done first. If you want to paint walls or anything else in your free time, go right ahead.”

He headed toward the building. She fell into step.

“If we’re all working…” she began.

“Everyone gets a full day off from the work rotation and a half day of personal time,” he said. “The three of you together will put in the same hours as any other person, so you’ll have to split the time off between you, but you’ll get the same as anyone else here.”

“All right.”

“There are suites still available on the first and second floors. Any preference?”

“First is fine,” she said at the same moment Zeela said, =Second floor is safer.=

“Who’s arguing for what?” He smiled. “You’ve got a look on your face.”

“Second floor is safer, but I’d still like the first floor.”

“You can always change suites if you don’t like this one,” Danyal said easily. He stopped at a door and opened it. “We haven’t locked the ones that weren’t occupied. The key is in the office. I’ll ask my partner to bring it to you.” He stepped inside, set down her traveling bag, and turned to leave.

“Shaman? Do you wish we hadn’t found this place?”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then: “This is a new life, Sholeh Zeela a Zhahar. There are no taboos here from your homeland unless you bring them. What you make of your life is up to you.”

“I don’t know how to begin.”

“Getting unpacked is a good place to start. When we meet for the evening meal, we can tell you about this place and what we hope to do here.” After giving her hand a friendly squeeze, he left.

She waited until she heard the outer door close. Then she looked around.

=Pretty dingy,= Zeela said. =But nothing some paint wouldn’t fix.=