The Fading Dream_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [48]
Thorn woke with a start. There were fingers brushing against her neck, a gentle touch against the stone. For a moment she thought of a man she’d met in Droaam, before sleep faded and instinct took over. She’d slept with Steel in her hand, and she rolled off the bed and onto her feet. A thought and the bracelets around her wrists extended along her forearms, becoming the blackened mithral vambraces she wore in battle. A second thought was all it took to shift her nightclothes into her working uniform.
“You need not fear me.” There was a woman sitting on the bed, a woman in a long, gray gown, her face hidden beneath a golden veil. “I have come to see my prophecy fulfilled.”
Thorn remained on her guard. The dream of battle had been so vivid, so real, and she still felt the adrenaline rushing through her veins. She was angry and the stone in her neck burned against the bone. She wanted to lash out …
She took a deep breath and tried to center herself. “Your prophecy. The stone wrapped in Thorn.”
“Yes.” The woman laughed and rose to her feet. She was taller than Thorn expected, easily six feet. Her arms were sheathed in long gloves of golden silk, and a circlet of golden leaves held her veil in place. Thorn could see that the gray of her dress was actually silver, gleaming in the light. But there were dark lines running all through the fabric, as if it were tarnished. “That’s the thing about prophecy. You never know how it will be fulfilled. I knew that Marudrix would find the stones, that all the stones would come to the circle. I assumed it was literal thorn, that he’d have to make his way through a maze of briars to find our lost treasures. Instead he brings you.”
“Who are you?”
“I am Tira of Shaelas Tiraleth, the Lady of the Silver Tree. Casoran told me that you’d heard my call. I have summoned the stones and their keepers, so together we may heal this wounded land. Come, Lady Thorn. Your companions await, as do the stranded lords of Thelanis.”
“Drix? Cadrel?”
“As I said, they await you at the heart of the tree. Come, I will explain all, but let me tell the tale to all of you at once.”
Something about the fey queen troubled Thorn. Her voice was beautiful, but the veil … something was wrong with the silhouette beneath it. Or perhaps it was just the pain. The stone in Thorn’s neck felt like a white-hot dagger digging into her spine. The shrapnel had caused her great pain after the accident, but in the past few months she’d thought she’d finally made her peace with it. But it burned as badly as ever. She thought back to the lessons she’d learned in her time with House Tarkanan, dispersing the agony and anger, letting it flow through blood and muscle, giving her strength.
Tira’s eyes gleamed behind the veil. “Relent, spirits,” she said suddenly. “Whatever has happened to you, it is not her doing. All of you, release your anger and be at peace.”
With those soft words, the pain flowed away like water. The stone was quiet again.
“How did you do that?” Thorn said.
“All things in time,” the lady said. “Come now. Let us find your friends and bring the seven stones together. Trust me, Thorn. Sheathe your weapon.”
Unlikely, she thought. But she was there to gather information, and that was clearly the path to follow. She returned Steel to his sheath.
“The other lords and ladies may greet you with anger,” the woman said. “You are a surprise in many ways. Let me explain, to you as well as them. Now take my hand, and let the story begin.”
Thorn held out her hand as the woman approached, but she kept her free hand on Steel’s hilt.
For a moment, she felt the woman’s skin, warm against her hand. Then the world fell away again.
The world took shape around her in a blur of warmth, silver, and voices. She was in a large chamber with a domed roof. A round table filled the heart of the room, and Thorn and the lady had appeared in the open center. Walls and table alike were formed of the silver wood of the tree, beautiful and polished. People were sitting