Battle The House War Page 0,103

they will hurt you. But they will not kill you. Leave the dreamers; they are mine. Leave the gardens. If you need to return, you will ask my permission. Chosen,” she said, in a sharper voice.

They stepped back, swords still readied; they did not look in Jewel’s direction once.

The Warden of Dreams lowered his weapons in response, although he reserved most of his attention for Celleriant; the Arianni prince did not look peaceful.

“Lord Celleriant.”

His gaze, when he turned to her, was cold; unlike the Chosen, he treated the Warden of Dreams as if he were almost inconsequential. “Lord.”

He stepped back, crossing the subtle line the Chosen made. He was not pleased, and she knew why; like the cats, combat defined him; it was his most visceral joy.

The Warden of Dreams retreated two steps; his back touched the wall that had been shredded by the force of his wings’ multiple blows; it framed him. “Jewel,” he said, his voice changing, his expression altering the lines of his face.

“Does he always leave when—”

“He is like your Lord Celleriant. This is his crucible, his testing ground.”

“And if he’s losing?”

The Warden smiled. “He does not acknowledge loss; all loss, therefore, is mine.”

To Jewel’s surprise, Celleriant immediately put up his sword; the blade and the shield vanished as he tendered the Warden a deep bow. She had never seen Celleriant employ sarcasm, and assumed the gesture of respect was genuine.

“It is over, for now,” the Warden told her.

“Almost,” she replied. She turned to Adam, who was sitting up; he was pale, but grim. “I am grateful to you, but you are inseparable from your brother, and where he cannot go, you cannot go.”

“We are not forbidden the dreams of men,” was the Warden’s grave reply.

“You’re forbidden them in my domain.”

He shook his head. “You do not have that power—even in this place. We cannot entrap the dreamers; we cannot compel them. But the visions we have carried to you, we will carry if it becomes necessary. You are not asleep now,” he told her. “But you will never fully wake again. The dreams will be stronger, and they have the power to harm you, now.”

She knew. They had had the power to harm her from the moment the cats had appeared; Shadow had told her that months ago. She hadn’t believed him—not while she was awake. And in dreams, belief didn’t matter. Everything was true.

“Can you tell me one thing before you leave?”

“If it is within my power.”

“How do I get the cats to change back?”

The Warden frowned; he looked genuinely puzzled. “Change back?”

“Yes. To what they were before—before last night.”

Shadow was now free of the webbing; it had vanished when the Warden of Dreams had once again turned the other face. He didn’t look particularly happy about the shift in personality, but like Celleriant, he seemed to recognize it instantly.

“Are they different?” the Warden finally asked.

“They’re half again as large as they were and they look extremely dangerous.”

The Warden bent to the bristling Shadow and whispered a few words that Jewel’s hearing wasn’t acute enough to pick up. The cat hissed. It was a lower, louder version of his laughter.

“He says they are not changed,” the Warden told her gravely.

“But they—”

“They do not appear altered, to me. Perhaps my vision and yours depend on different things.” His frown deepened. “But you are Sen, and it is the way of the Sen to see things as they are. It is vexing.”

Shadow’s hiss increased in volume; the sides of his lengthy body began to heave. “She is less stupid,” he finally managed. “But not by much.” He rose and padded across the room to where Snow lay. Jewel gasped as he jumped on the injured cat, hissing in a totally different tone.

“If you break the bed,” she told them both, raising her voice to be heard over the cats—Snow, not to be outdone, had begun to hiss back, “I will—”

“Yessssss?” Both cats said, swiveling to face her, their own brief spat suspended. “What will you do?”

“I’ll have to think about it. Turning you to stone has a certain appeal.”

Snow hissed, his eyes widening. Shadow, however, snorted.

“Stop fighting in my room and go find your brother.”

“Oh, him.”

“I mean it. Find Night and bring him back.” She paused and then added, “Do not fight with each other in the manse if you don’t intend to leave by the window.”

* * *

The room was silent after the cats had departed; they left through the doors. The window was apparently

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