flash as Oraan stepped into the sunlight. I wonder if anyone asked the Sword what it thought about Redfora?
I hope they ran away, said Niahi. I hope they ran away because everyone was being so stupid. I hope they ran away to somewhere really nice.
So do I, said Hibeehea. So do I.
They flew with the rising sun almost at their backs, now, back toward the border with the human land, but they did not hurry, and it took them four more days. Sylvi noticed that on the second day they flew more north than west and toward evening there was a silver dazzle in her eyes as well as the red-gold sun-dazzle.
Dreaming Sea, said Ebon.
But that’s—that’s a legend, said Sylvi. Like—Redfora and Oraan.
I think everybody has a Dreaming Sea, said Ebon. You may have a different one. This is ours. And it’s a legend too. The water’s still wet, though.
Hibeehea stood as if waiting for them as Sylvi’s troupe landed, galloped, halted and let her gently down. She wiggled out of her ropes and blanket, looking at him looking at her. She waited till Ebon had been helped out of his harness, so she didn’t have to approach Hibeehea alone.
It is at my request we are here, Hibeehea said, and turned, in obvious expectation that they would follow, and led the way through the long grass and the last ragged row of trees. The water whispered against the shingle, and Sylvi stared out across it till the water met the horizon, and imagined the folk standing on the opposite shore somewhere, staring back toward them. Were they human or pegasi or something else? She had been to the rocky seacoast of her own country only rarely, but she remembered the astonishing expanse of water, the sense of standing on the edge of another world, a water world; this was different yet. At home she knew the names of the other ports, the countries on the far side of the ocean; this was a Dreaming Sea. . . .
Watching the silky, late-afternoon-sunlit ripples moving toward them, listening to the tiny gasping noises they made as they broke on the shore, she said, Our stories about the Dreaming Sea say that if you sail on it, you can sail for ever and ever and will never get out of sight of the shore you set out from, and never catch sight of any other shore. But I don’t know where it is. I don’t think it can be this one; Viktur mentions it in his journal as something they left behind. And he quotes Balsin saying as a kind of joke that he’d decided to climb the mountains that lead to the wild lands and see what was beyond them because he was afraid Argen would order him to take ship and cross the Dreaming Sea, to be rid of him. It was the most she’d ever said in Hibeehea’s hearing, and she thought, I never heard that the Dreaming Sea makes you brave.
It is called the Dreaming Sea because it is said that if you sleep beside it you will dream true, said Hibeehea.
Eah, said Ebon. If you’re desperate enough, you swim in it first and then lie down on the shore sopping wet, and near enough that the water touches you. Not recommended during the winter. And I’d’ve thought your dreams would still only be about how uncomfortable you are.
I wanted you to see it, said Hibeehea, ignoring Ebon, because whether you have trained as a human magician or not, you are half a shaman with no training whatsoever—that you saw the signing of the treaty in the Caves, and that it was Redfora who brought you back when I called you proves this. Part of our shamanic training involves drinking the water of the Dreaming Sea—and we sleep beside it, but contrary to Ebon’s folklore, we choose a comfortable spot. I do not suggest you drink from it, Sylviianel, for the dreams it brings can be very powerful, and you have seen and done enough this three weeks. But I do suggest that you take a little of it away with you. I think the day may come when you have great need of a true dream.
Hibeehea was wearing another little pouch around his neck on a string, and he dropped his head and rubbed the string over his ears with a foreleg, then knelt by the water. He loosened the mouth of the pouch with his teeth, laid