The Emperor's Wolves (Wolves of Elantra #1) - Michelle Sagara Page 0,92

trek kept them clear of the warrens; it must have. They had survived this outing.

They survived hunger, as well; the city was much larger outside than they’d expected. Yes, they’d drawn upon the memories of the few intrepid Tha’alani who made their way beyond the far less guarded gates, but...so many of the memories were lost to them, walled away behind the sacrificial Tha’alanari.

Sacrificial was exactly the sense of the word they didn’t know to use; Severn could almost taste it; there was both curiosity and a kind of pity. The pity would have killed him, had he been Tha’alanari. It didn’t bother Ybelline at all. Without the memories of the Tha’alanari to guide them, they were left with a patchwork of impressions, and they had had to search for those, taking care not to be noted. They had, of course, been noted, but their curiosity was natural, and as it hadn’t been tinged with dread, no adult swept in to offer context.

We let our children dream, Ybelline said.

How can they dream? Everything they might want to do has already been done. They don’t have to leave home to experience any of it.

No? Perhaps not. Perhaps our dreams are the desire to bring, to the Tha’alaan, something new, something different. Or perhaps we understand that our own experiences have more weight, more personal meaning, than the experiences we share only through the Tha’alaan. I do not understand how other people dream. I have touched some of those dreams, and they are... She did not find words to describe the experience.

These memories, however, were not those. He concentrated on these, watching the children from within their thoughts, and evaluating them from his own.

He was surprised when their trek led them, at last, to the place of their dreams; he recognized the building only because his own curiosity had moved him to look at maps of Elantra, and notable buildings, in the Records of the Halls of Law. They walked toward the Oracular Halls. They had come, as some did, to see some fleeting glimpse of the future.

The future, then, was as much a land of magic and promise for the Tha’alani children as it was for any child, even a child of the fiefs who dreamed and longed for a happy, safe life across the bridge over the Ablayne.

As they grasped hands and walked three abreast up the road, he looked at the building through their eyes; their eyes were better, here, than Records, which was dry and lifeless.

Any dreams they brought with them colored the picture, and the three saw the building differently; Ybelline had stitched all of their impressions together in a way that made the sight almost, but not quite, overwhelming.

He knew that this visit must end in disappointment; the children didn’t have an appointment, and they were never likely to be granted one. It took them hours—subjective time—to reach the very closed doors, and the doors were guarded. These children were not the only people in Elantra who dreamed of a glimpse of the future, with all its promise and all the happiness it might contain.

They had had happy lives. One broken arm—a fall from a tree—one broken leg, one bruised eye, both, like the arm, the result of accidents because they had been so busy paying attention to the Tha’alaan they had lost track of their surroundings. This wasn’t, from their reaction, uncommon. The happy lives, however, had not changed their hopes, their desire for better.

You would have been content with their lives, Ybelline said, because you had already lived your own—you could compare what you had with what they had. Had you been one of the people—our people—you would not have seen it the same way.

No one appreciates what they have?

Not in my experience, no. They must learn to fully understand what other people have—or have not had—first. Gratitude is a lesson we learn as we mature.

The guards at the door were not as stiff and formal as guards Severn had encountered at Elluvian’s side in other locations; they stared down at the children with mutual expressions of shock. Had they encountered three adult Tha’alani, that shock might be tinged with fear—but the sight of three children holding hands as they made their approach could not quite be translated into a dangerous threat.

The older of the two, a woman, spoke first. “Are you lost?”

“We were almost lost,” one of the boys replied. “But a giant cat told us how to get here. And a man