Wild Blood (Book 7) (18 page)

“But sometimes I’ve seen her in my dreams,” Val protested. “And she was likely even farther away then.” He scowled. “But those were only dreams.”

“Your spirit journeys away from your body in dreams,” Lahti said, nodding. “I’d guess that as close in spirit as you and Ria must be, being born at one birth, your spirits are drawn together in dreams.” She met Val’s eyes. “You saw her in your passage dream, didn’t you, more clearly than before?”

Val hesitated instinctively. It was forbidden to discuss passage dreams with—no. Lahti
was
an adult. He had to believe that.

“I saw her,” he admitted. “And my mother.”

“Sometimes such gifts are wakened, or trained, by dreaming potions,” Lahti said, nodding, “because such potions free the spirit for longer journeys.”

Val sat up suddenly.

“Do you think if I had another dreaming potion, that I could speak to her in my thoughts? Even only learn whether she’s alive?” he asked anxiously.

“Val,” Lahti said reprovingly. “You know Dusk will never give you the potion.”

Val was silent for a long moment.

“Could you make the potion?” he asked. “You’ve been learning from Dusk for years now.”

“I could make the potion,” Lahti said thoughtfully. “But I don’t have all the herbs and roots and such for it. And this is the wrong time of year to gather some of them.” She looked into Val’s eyes and relented. “Dusk has all the ingredients. I could go to Rowan’s hut and get them; I’m sure he’s still talking to the other adults at the firepit. But Dusk’ll be terribly angry if he finds out, and his owl is just outside the hut, watching for us to try to leave the village.”

“I’ll lure the bird away,” Val said quickly, “if you can fetch whatever you’ll need back here.”

Lahti hesitated, then nodded.

“The potion didn’t do you any harm before,” she said slowly. “And that was when you were weakened by fasting and by your passage trials. I suppose it’s safe enough for you to take again.”

There was little time for a plan, not if Lahti was to get to Rowan and Dusk’s hut and back before the conference around the fire was over. Val simply stepped outside the door, scowled at the owl, and slipped into the undergrowth; as he’d expected, the owl followed, fluttering from branch to branch to watch him. Having nowhere better to go, Val began working his way around the edge of the village just far enough away that any elves still in their huts wouldn’t hear him.

When he reached the point nearest the fire pit, Val was both anxious and relieved to see that apparently there was still a discussion taking place around the fire. Rowan was standing, her sharp gestures indicating that she was upset, if not angry. Occasionally a sharp tone reached him, hers or someone else’s, but he was too far away to make out the words. He considered creeping closer to hear what was being said, but Dusk might at any time look through the eyes of his owl and know. Val sighed and continued onward, not hurrying, until he’d made an entire circuit of the whole Inner Heart village; then he stalled a little longer by backtracking a bit to use the privy pits.

By this time, Lahti had had ample opportunity for her secret errand to Rowan’s tent, so Val strolled back to their hut more directly. As he crossed the small section of the village between the privy pits and his hut, he noticed that some of the adults were trickling back to their huts from the fire pit. Only a few saw him, but of those few Val was dismayed to see that there was more than one angry scowl directed toward him, and one elf, Garad, a kinsman of Rowan’s, turned aside so his path would not cross Valann’s.

A hot surge of anger almost froze Val in his tracks. If this was how
he
was treated—and very little of the fault rested with him; no male elf could really be expected to refuse a ripe female who asked for his seed—how much worse could Lahti expect? For a moment he stood there shaking with anger, longing more than anything to seize Garad and hit him again and again with his fists until that superior, disapproving expression on his face was obliterated by blood and bruises; then he painfully choked down his fury and continued on his way. Fighting with Garad would accomplish nothing but turning even more of the clan against him and Lahti. He quickly decided he’d say nothing to Lahti of what he’d seen of the clan’s reaction. She’d learn the full extent of the clan’s disapproval soon enough—all too soon, to his way of thinking. Let her have a little peace and contentment while she could.

When Val slipped back through the door flap to his hut, Lahti was pouring a thick liquid from a bowl into a wooden cup.

“The potion’s ready,” she said, motioning to him to sit on the furs beside her.

“So quickly?” Val asked, surprised.

Lahti smiled sheepishly.

“I took the bowl with me and mixed the ingredients there in Rowan and Dusk’s hut,” she admitted. “I wanted to be certain I used exactly the proper proportions, and I thought if I carried jars and pouches out of the hut, Dusk would surely miss them. So I brought it back mixed and ready except for the honey and wine to dissolve it in. I didn’t think you’d wish to delay, worrying about your sister. Are you ready?”

The last of Val’s anger faded in a warm wash of love. Lahti was still weary from their journey; she’d not had so much as time for a bath, and the joy of her ripening and pregnancy had been marred by the certain disapproval of the clan. Yet she’d set all that aside in her concern for him, and her sympathy for his worry for his sister. Yes, he’d have to persuade her to be his mate. This was the woman he wanted to spend his life with, the Mother Forest knew!

“I’m ready,” he said, reaching over to caress Lahti’s cheek.

“Then drink, and sleep on the furs so there’s no danger you’ll tumble from your sling bed,” Lahti said, smiling warmly, clasping his hand against her cheek. “I’m not giving you enough of the potion for a full night’s dreaming, but a smaller portion, such as Dusk takes to seek his visions. I’ll watch over you while you sleep.”

“There’s no need for that,” he said gently. “You should bathe and sleep yourself. I spent the entire night lying alone on an altar under this potion with no ill effects. Even sleeping, I’m sure you would wake if you heard me in any distress.”

Lahti smiled but said nothing, and Val sighed; she’d do as she pleased, say what he might. But, then, would he love her so if it weren’t for that occasionally annoying stubbornness?

Val swallowed the potion. The thick, syrupy liquid had been disagreeable before, when he’d fasted for days and almost
anything
would have tasted good; now, however, he found the taste almost unbearable. He finished every drop, however, gladly accepting the cup of broth Lahti gave him to wash away the bittersweet taste.

This time, likely because he’d not been fasting and weakened by the trials, the potion took longer to affect him. Val had plenty of time to undress and settle himself comfortably on the furs before drowsiness began to wash over him in slow, warm waves. His last awareness was of Lahti sitting at his side, silhouetted fetchingly against the firelight, her hand warm and gentle against his forehead. Then he let the potion draw him gently downward.

This time, too, he knew better what to expect, and he was less afraid as he sank deep into the earth, toward that hot, pulsing center of life. He’d made this journey before unharmed, and this time he’d need no guide to find his way; there’d be no aimless wandering through the chaos. Almost as soon as he pictured the still pool at the center of his mind, he was there. Was this the same place Dusk came to seek his visions?

He concentrated on Ria’s face as he’d seen it in his few precious dreaming encounters, trying to fix it in his mind. Where was she? Was she well? Was she, perhaps, thinking of him? It was late, and she’d likely be sleeping; perhaps her spirit would be wandering, too, in dreams.

Val called to her in his thoughts, as he’d called for help during his passage, trying to picture Ria’s face before him. He grew frustrated as nothing happened. Was he doing this wrong? But what else could he do? He was here, he was calling, wasn’t he? If only someone had thought to teach him! If only he’d asked to learn!

He turned to the still pool before him. He’d seen Chyrie’s reflection there before. Perhaps—he tried to picture Ria’s face reflected there in the water, her blue-green eyes, still hazy with sleep, meeting his—

Something seemed to flex weakly within him, like a muscle long disused, then more strongly, and suddenly Val felt a presence near, a familiar presence and yet unfamiliar—

Startled.
WHO COMES HERE
?

Val was rocked with the force of that question, as he might have been rocked by a blast of sudden fierce wind, as he might be nearly swept away by a deep creek fast and full in flood. Was it one voice or many? He had the strangest feeling that there were two voices—one male, one female —so interwoven as to be almost indistinguishable from each other, with some tremendous force behind them that almost overshadowed both.

For a moment Val was too terrified to answer, but he forced himself to stand firm. He’d been here before, hadn’t he? Grimly he remembered the sound of Blue-eyes’ arrows whistling toward his sister, and anger washed away the fear. This time, perhaps because of his anger, whatever flexed deep within him felt more strong and sure.

I am Valann, son of Chyrie, and I seek my sister’s spirit
,
Val thought boldly.
I won’t return until I find her
.

Vast surprise, so powerful that Val was almost thrown back into chaos. For a moment it seemed that the entire universe around him rocked with the force of that astonishment. Then confusion almost as great as the surprise, as if the voice he’d heard had suddenly split in two and was arguing with itself.

RIA?
Image of a tiny baby, delicate face framed in black curls, great blue-green eyes sparkling. Sudden pain, longing that tore through Val’s heart.

HERE?
Dizzying flashes of the Heartwood as if seen through a thousand different eyes, spinning across the length and width of the forest and back again so that for a moment Val’s mind refused to accept it all.
WHERE? HOW?

For a moment Val was too bewildered to realize that the questions were directed at him. A blast of worry/confusion/impatience rocked him again, and before he recovered something swept through him with the force of a forest stream in spring flood, washing his memories up to light.

The battle with the Blue-eyes, Val as frightened as he was furious, utterly certain that those arrows were whistling death at his own sister.
HOW COULD WE NOT SEE HER? HOW COULD WE NOT KNOW?

The same battle, but from a different perspective, as if he looked down from a tree through eyes unaccustomed to darkness, roused from drowsy sleep by screams.

Sleepy forest denizens fleeing in confusion as arrows whistled, as shouts echoed through what had been quiet forest.

Nighttime creatures fleeing too, terrified, as burning arrows dazzled their eyes. Fire, the universal fear. Brief confusing image of two forms stumbling from the forest, too fleeting for comprehension over all the fear, confusion, need for flight. Then the sounds decreasing, the forest slowly regaining its equilibrium. The intruders were gone.

RIA
.
Great sadness. Sense of irrevocable loss.

She’s near, in the city
,
Val thought desperately. Could this strange duality be his mother? By the Mother Forest, what had she become? Ah, yes. By the Mother Forest indeed.
I want to go to her. Help me find her
.

Sudden change of perspective, perhaps a memory—soaring, flying, leaving the forest, sudden frightening great sky around him, so open, so naked and vulnerable, and ahead, the great stone city—

NO!!

Fleeting images of stone closing in around him, the earth shattering beneath him, fire, pain, death—

NO!!
Sudden wrenching twist, wresting him from the vision. He was standing beside the pool again. Silence.

Please
,
Val thought again, more urgently.
I want to go to her in the city. Help me find her.

NO
.
Brief, flashing vision of the city, shudder of fear.
NO. NOT THERE. BRING HER HERE TO YOU. TO US.

How?
Val repeated.
Show me how.

Brief flash of impatience. Abruptly a giant hand seemed to seize him and fling him outward into chaos. Terrified, Val felt a part of himself flailing desperately for purchase, to some anchor, but there was nothing to hold, no point of familiarity—

There! Eagerly, almost desperately, Val seized on that one solid awareness within all the confusion. Then the sense of recognition.

Ria!

Drowsy fog, only vague awareness, as if she only half noticed him, as if she hadn’t the strength to respond. Was she ill, or was her skill that much weaker than his own?

Come to me
,
he thought as strongly as he could.
Come to the forest, come home, come soon.

Vague understanding, some sense of agreement and longing, but without any clear response. Slowly she faded away again. Either she was too weak to contact him clearly or he was too unskilled. He could feel, too, that the effects of the potion were fading. Well, he’d done what he could. She’d come, or she wouldn’t.

Slowly he awakened. The hut was almost dark, the fire burned low, but Lahti was still beside him. She smiled and caressed his cheek when he turned his head to look at her.

“You dreamed only a few hours this time,” she said. “Did you find your sister’s spirit?”

“I’m not certain,” Val admitted, sighing. “I believe I did, but I’m not sure she knew it. At least I know she lives.”