“Actually, I think Amelia’s right. I think sleep is leaving me open to the dragon that’s draining my energy,” Eleanor said.
Will frowned. “Conlan told me about your dreams. If this dragon is getting into your head somehow, maybe I can help.”
“How?” Conlan and Amelia said in unison.
Will shrugged. “I can sit inside Eleanor’s sleeping mind, so I can watch for this dragon, find out what it wants and perhaps make it go away.”
Amelia paled. “That sounds dangerous, Will, what if the dragon takes your energy, too?”
Will shook his head slowly. “The dragon isn’t taking Eleanor’s energy while she’s awake – Eleanor’s mind will be asleep, but mine won’t be.”
“It’s worth a try,” Conlan said. Amelia opened her mouth to comment and then thought better of it.
“And what if I don’t want you in my mind?” Eleanor snapped, her tone harder than she intended. She did not want Will to see her guilt, her crime, and she certainly she did not want him to look at her with disappointment or, even worse, loathing.
Hurt and distress flashed across Will’s face, settling in his eyes. “I would never do anything to hurt you, Eleanor. I would never speak of what I learnt about you this way. Don’t you trust me?”
Eleanor felt torn. She did trust Will and she did want the dragon gone, but she was also aware of just what Will would know about her. The others were looking at her strangely; Amelia’s eyes crinkled in suspicion.
Swallowing hard, her voice barely a whisper, Eleanor made her choice.
“Yes, Will, I trust you.”
Smiling, Will stood. “Come on then, let’s get you back to bed.” He offered Eleanor a hand up, and she hesitated only a moment before taking it.
She reluctantly crawled under blankets that offered nothing more than the illusion of security.
This is a really bad idea!
Fear whipped violently round her insides. Will positioned himself on the edge of her bed. Amelia stood behind him, a hand on his shoulder, while Conlan and Freddie stood watching curiously. Will ran his hand down her head until it rested gently against her cheek. He closed his eyes, slowing his breathing, and Eleanor felt his energy string brush against her. She pulled him towards her, her mind filling with calm and peace as he entered the space where they could talk. Despite her best intentions, Eleanor cringed from the mental touch.
What are you afraid of?
Eleanor knew she would have to answer him, but her fear kept her silent.
Perhaps it would make you more comfortable if I shared some of the things I’ve done in my life that I’m not proud of?
Eleanor gasped.
You’d do that? Share your mind with me?
Yes, if that’s what it takes for you to trust me.
Will pushed a memory out to Eleanor, doing nothing to hide the feelings that went with it. It felt like her own experience as she watched it happen from behind Will’s eyes. There was an insult, a bar brawl, a fight, a knife was pulled and time seemed to stop as Will saw it heading for his chest. Eleanor felt his terror pulse through her. Then there was someone in front of him, Stephen, his little brother: ‘Look out for little Stevie,’ his long dead mother’s mantra, as the knife embedded itself into Stephen’s chest. A searing hot lead weight of grief burned slowly through Will’s insides as Stephen died in his arms. Staccato images of gasping, terrified agony branded into Eleanor’s mind. The shock still had a firm hold as the memory changed. A dark alley. A man, the man who had thrust the crude knife into Stephen’s heart, the man who had escaped justice. The man on his knees, crying, begging for mercy. The first blow of the cricket bat, Stephen’s cricket bat, several more blows. Eleanor cringed at the brutal violence, at the fury that went with the memories. Then it was over, a dead body and remorse; killing him had not brought Stephen back, it had just ripped another chunk out of Will’s soul. His guilt, self-loathing and distress overwhelmed her; it took a moment for Eleanor to find herself as the memories receded. She felt Will’s uncertainty, his fear that she would not understand.
Eleanor had no idea what to say, no clue how to even start a conversation after what she had seen. Her love for Will had not changed, but it had changed her perception of him, in that his passion and determination, even if the result was wrong, did him credit.
Will’s fear was growing at Eleanor’s silence.
Please, Eleanor, say something…
There was nothing she could say, there was only love for him and distress at his pain. So she sent those feelings, filling his mind. Will gasped, the fear melting away.
I trust you, Will.
Eleanor whispered.
My mind is yours.
Calm pulsed through her head and spread through her whole body, instantly relaxing her and taking everything a little out of focus. She felt him pass through the walls of her mind’s defences and was momentarily frightened; instinctively, she tried to push him out. He responded by flooding her mind with such a strong feeling of almost paternal love and security that she sighed, relaxing, drifting, letting Will push deeper into her head. She felt him move through her memories, her thoughts and her dreams. She could hide nothing. Apprehension sank its icy claws into her as she realised someone else was going to know, but she felt only his understanding and acceptance. He was seeing down into her very soul, his mind so close she would have felt his repulsion or disapproval had there been any, but all that existed was a steady flow of warm, safe love. Without further hesitation she gave herself to the feeling, drifting into restful sleep.
Full consciousness came slowly. She was aware of someone calling her name, the black nothing sucking at her.
Will.
Fear for him snapped her eyes open. Candlelight flickered shapes onto the familiar rough stone over her head.
“Will?”
“I am right here, Eleanor.”
He was speaking Dwarfish, and her foggy mind took a moment to interpret. She turned her head to the side and saw Will siting on Conlan’s bed, leaning back against the cave wall. Amelia slept next to him, curled into a ball at the bottom of the bed, her head resting on his leg.
“What happened, are you alright?” Eleanor asked in Dwarfish, not really sure she wanted to know.
“Yes, are you? The dragon’s soul took more of your energy before I could get his attention. He is not a living beast – his body died centuries ago, but his soul is trapped, was trapped by the then Avatar of Earth, and he has a very unhealthy hatred of you, I am afraid. He was trying to get enough energy to escape his prison. We had a ‘talk’, and he has agreed to leave you alone.”
Eleanor stared at him. “In return for what?”
“The dragon’s soul has been trapped so long he has gone a little mad, so all he wants now is escape. I have promised him that, once we get the connection working.”
What if Will can’t keep his promise?
Images of her body being ripped apart by dragon’s claws flashed through her mind, rapid machine gun fire images of blood, pain and horror.
“We will find a way, Eleanor. If an Avatar trapped him, surely four of us can release him.”
Eleanor nodded. “Am I that easy to read?” she asked. It hurt to speak, her voice scratching her throat.
Will chucked. “Not to hear Conlan tell it.”
Eleanor smiled at that. “I do not think he tries very hard,” she whispered.
Will gave her a knowing look. “You would be surprised.”
Did Will know how she felt? Of course he did, he had been inside her mind. Was he trying to encourage her? She noticed Will looking thoughtfully at her shifting expressions – how much was she giving away? Struggling to hide her feelings she changed the subject.
“Why are we talking Dwarfish?” she asked.
“I wanted to know how fluent you were. Conlan mentioned that teaching you had been a good way to keep you occupied on the way back from Baydon.”
Eleanor felt a stab of hurt. She had been grateful for the effort Conlan had put into teaching her, had he thought of it as nothing more than a way to kill time?
“He might not have taken his teaching very seriously, but I did,” she said bitterly. Will was giving her his thoughtful look again.
“Why has he not yet taught Freddie and Amelia to speak the language?” Eleanor asked.
“We have both tried. Amelia did not take to it as quickly as you have and lost interest, while Freddie’s pronunciation was appallingly bad. Unlike you, they both lack a compelling reason to learn.”
Blushing and not wanting to get into a discussion about ‘compelling reasons’, Eleanor changed the subject again. “How long was I out for this time?”
“It has been a few days, but you had moments when you were nearly conscious, so we managed to get water down you, although you spat a fair amount out,” Will said. His amused smile was back again, but it felt like he was trying too hard to be normal.
“You know about the robbery, don’t you?” Eleanor said, switching back to English in her distress. Her pained whisper was the closest she could get to naming that darkness.
Will nodded. “I understand, Eleanor; my feelings for you haven’t changed.”
Eleanor smiled weakly. It was what she wanted to hear, but Will would know that.
“I’ll never discuss your secrets,” Will assured her. “And I would hope you’d never discuss mine.” A raised eyebrow added emphasis. Eleanor nodded, rapidly trying to think of something to change the subject to as some of the more disturbing aspects of Will’s memories flashed through her mind.
“So does this mean no more dragons?”
“No more dragons.” The statement was so heavy that Will seemed to sag under its weight.
“What did he say to you? What’s the matter, Will? You look upset.” Eleanor’s voice rasped in her throat, rubbing it raw. Carefully moving Amelia’s head, Will rose stiffly to his feet and lifted a cup from the floor to Eleanor’s lips. He leant in to lift her head as he helped her drink. Up close Eleanor was able to see fear and pain deep in Will’s eyes.
“Will, something is wrong. Please tell me, maybe I can help.”
“Do you trust me, Eleanor?”
“I told you I did.”
“Then please let this drop,” he begged. “No more talk about what the dragon and I discussed.”
She did trust him; she had felt his love for her and was confident he would not hide anything without good reason, but he was clearly upset and she wanted to help.
“The dragon told me some truths about myself I didn’t like,” Will said carefully, seeing Eleanor’s indecision. “I’d rather just forget it.”
She held his gaze, wanting to understand, but the dark blue eyes did not back down. Eleanor huffed. “OK, no more talk about dragons, but I’m here if you ever do want to talk about it, and I want something in return.”
“You want something from me in return for not pestering me for information that was none of your business in the first place?” Will’s incredulous look softened. “What do you want?”
Eleanor shrugged, wondering what she could ask for. An idea occurred, something that may be useful in the future. “One day I’m going to ask you to trust me; no questions, no arguments, just to do as I’m asking you. Agreed?”
Will gave her a tired smile. “Agreed.”
“And I want to know how you got into my mind, past my defences.”
Will shrugged and his head dropped forward a little. “We all have our ‘talents’, Eleanor, and that happens to be one of mine. I’m not sure it’s something you can learn. Amelia can’t do it, and believe me it’s not through lack of effort on her part.”
“Amelia has tried? Does this mean she has tried using her other ‘talents’? ” Eleanor asked. This was a very interesting development.
“Didn’t she tell you?” Will asked, looking surprised when Eleanor shook her head. “Maybe she was waiting until you felt a little better. Amelia doesn’t tend to do things half-heartedly, once she made her decision to fight with us she began doing her best to learn everything she could. Freddie and I taught her what we know, but she’s been looking forward to you coming back.”
Eleanor wanted to ask more questions, wanted to know what they had been learning, but Will looked so very tired.
“Will, you don’t look well, are you alright?”
Will nodded. “You should worry a little more about yourself, you know. Have you any idea how thin and tired
you
look?”
Eleanor sighed. “I’m fine, really. I want to know about Amelia’s ‘talents’.”
“You need to sleep, give your body a chance to recover.”
“I want to know what I missed,” Eleanor insisted. Will looked at her, concern in his eyes.
“OK, but eat something first?”
Eleanor nodded. She was not particularly hungry, but she could feel how thin her body was getting, skin was stretched tight over bones. Will left and came back with a bowl of what smelt like thick potato soup. Eleanor ate with little enthusiasm, wishing it was cheese, and there was a strange aftertaste to the meal. There was so much she wanted to ask but she felt exhaustion creeping silently through her body. She slumped back into the pillows, struggling to keep her eyes open. The bowl slipped from her fingers; Will, appearing to anticipate this, caught it before it hit the floor.
“You drugged me,” Eleanor accused groggily.
“You need to sleep, Eleanor – real sleep, not a dragon-induced coma; you’ll feel better tomorrow,” Will said, smiling apologetically as his blue eyes faded and sleep claimed her.
She woke slowly, letting herself drift. Warm blankets and the subtle smell of home were comforting. She could hear the slow, steady breathing of others around her, and this too brought a measure of peace, a feeling of security. Will was right, the sleep had done her good; she felt stronger, rested and her energy levels had normalised. She slowly opened her eyes, tracking the familiar pattern of rocks over her bed as they moved in the flickering candlelight. Eventually they came into focus. She looked around her; both Conlan and Freddie’s beds were empty.
Did they get up early? Or are they coming to bed late?
The lack of natural light was annoying, as she had no idea what time it was. She would have to get up to investigate. Slowly and quietly she got out of bed, thankful that her body was not as stiff and as sore as she thought it might be. She stoked the cave’s main fire, putting water on to heat. She noticed that Rand was missing as she pulled logs from the stack by the wall. Through the gap above the main entrance she could see the sunrise. Pouring hot water into a mug, she stirred in some of the dry tea-like herbs that Will kept as a drink. Eleanor watched as the water turned a reddish-brown, the herbs swirling and sinking slowly. Clutching the mug’s reassuring warmth to her chest she walked out of the cave and onto the ledge. Fighting the twist in her stomach at the height, she sat down, her legs dropping over the precipice below. The air was still and cold, the world silent around her, as if all of nature was holding its breath waiting for the sun. The sky slowly turned a soft pink, then orange and then a glowing red as the sun’s first rays almost blinded her. It was beautiful – too beautiful to look away – as the light began illuminating the steep mountainsides before her, making them glow a soft orange, the light rushing to meet her and forcing her to close her eyes as it bathed her upturned face in warmth.
Could Freddie draw energy from this? What would it feel like?
Letting her mind drift, she let the warmth and soft cold breeze ease out tension that she had not realised she was holding.