He brought his tankard to his lips and drained it. “We’re done for now. Come back for me in the morning. Right here. Bring the gold. As soon as I’ve seen to its safety, we’ll set out.”
He set down the tankard and got to his feet. “I hope you know what you’re getting yourselves into, but I doubt it.” He gave a Railing a look. “You’d better be good at using that magic of yours.” He stretched. “I’m off to bed.”
He lumbered across the room and out the door. Railing, still feeling combative from the confrontation, was surprised to find that, in spite of everything, he rather liked Challa Nand.
Though it was hard to explain exactly why.
They were on their way back to the Quickening when the boy remembered the offer Skint had made. “Where did you get a hundred gold pieces?”
Skint’s wizened face tightened further. “From him.”
He pointed at Farshaun, who shrugged. “It’s only coin, and coin can always be replaced. We can’t replace Redden, though.” He put a hand on Railing’s shoulder. “He’s worth it, isn’t he? Your brother? He’s worth more than that to me. You’re family, after all, and we Rovers look out for one another.”
Railing was momentarily speechless. A hundred pieces of gold was a lot of coin. “Thank you, Farshaun. I never even thought about having to pay.”
The old man nodded. “Good thing I’m here, then.” He glanced over at Skint. “That Troll had better be worth it, though.”
The Gnome hunched his shoulders against the rain. “More than worth it. You’ll see.”
Railing kept silent. He was back to thinking about the secrets he was keeping and the deceptions and manipulations he had employed as a result. He felt ashamed of himself, that he could not make himself trust his closest friends. But not ashamed enough that he was persuaded to change his mind and tell them the truth.
Not when it might mean turning back.
They walked the rest of the way with their heads lowered and the rain sheeting down.
Three
That night, Railing dreamed of Mirai.
He wondered afterward why he didn’t dream of Redden. Virtually every waking thought he had was of his brother and what was needed to get him back, so it made little sense that his dreams should be of Mirai. He was troubled by her renewed interest in Austrum, but not as troubled as he was about his twin.
Yet she was the one he dreamed of that night.
They were walking across a field, holding hands and talking. They were deeply in love, and the look in their eyes reflected their commitment to each other. Ahead, a stretch of woods loomed in dark relief against a bright, sunshine-splashed sky. Railing was aware of the forest, but not afraid of it. They would go around it when they got too close. Mirai would know not to go there, and she would steer him away.
But the closer they got, the less certain he became of her intentions. She seemed oblivious to the danger that awaited, her gaze directed solely toward Railing.
Turn back, Railing tried to tell her, but the words would not come. They passed his lips, at first softly and then more insistently, but they made no sound.
As they drew steadily closer to the trees, he began pulling on her arm, trying to turn her aside, but his efforts were futile. He was not strong enough to change her course, and she would not allow herself to be guided. She kept gazing at him with love and adoration, but she would not respond to his entreaties.
They were almost to the woods. Ahead, within layers of shadows, hands were reaching out to seize her. He could just make them out in the gloom, writhing like tentacles. They were going to take her from him and he would never get her back again. He was frantic with fear, riddled with despair. He was shouting at her to turn back, to veer off, to do something to get clear before it was too late.
He screamed her name.
Then hands were shaking him hard and abruptly he was awake, tangled in his blanket, lying in a hammock belowdecks, hot and twisted about, the images of his dream still fresh enough to seem real.
“Quiet down, boy!” Skint hissed in his ear. “You’ll wake the whole ship with your shouting.”
Railing nodded quickly, able to see just enough of the Gnome’s face to recognize the concern mirrored there. “I had a dream,” he whispered.
“I know,” Skint said. “Likely everyone on the ship knows. But it’s over and done. Get back to sleep.”