was ultimately the right thing to do. She would save the souls of people who otherwise turned from the gods. It just seemed too… too sneaky.
After the meeting at the Altar she had decided she’d better find out if any healer priests and priestesses were willing to work with Dreamweavers before approaching Dreamweaver Adviser Raeli. She had told herself she was being efficient—she could ask if any were willing to travel to Si at the same time—but she knew she was putting off the moment when she would have to start being sneaky.
Several volunteers had come forward. She had been expecting enthusiasm for the post in Si, but had been pleasantly surprised by the numbers interested in working with Dreamweavers. All had been impressed and humbled by what they had seen in the aftermath of the battle. Many were eager to learn from Dreamweavers, though for some it was out of a determination to match or surpass the heathens in knowledge and skill rather than because of any newfound respect for the cult.
She had delayed further by finding a location for them to work in. It needed to be a place where neither Dreamweavers nor Circlians had greater influence. She had found a disused storeroom near the docks, not too far from the edge of the poor area of the city. She had only to arrange for the building to be cleaned up and appropriately furnished and stocked, and decide what to call it.
Before then, however, she needed an answer from the Dreamweavers. Unable to put it off any longer, she had arranged to meet with Raeli.
Auraya rolled onto her side. She was wide awake now and doubted she’d get to sleep again for hours. Her heart was no longer pounding but it was still beating a little too fast.
She thought of the question she had asked Juran. “What of the whole range of mind-healing skills—of mind links and dream links?” He obviously did not like the idea of priests and priestesses learning those skills, but if Circlians were to replace Dreamweavers they would have to adopt all the heathens’ practices.
She sighed. The nightmares she was having were proof of the need to have priests and priestesses learn dream-healing skills. She could understand why any ordinary man or woman would seek a Dreamweaver’s help in stopping dreams like these.
Perhaps I should seek a Dreamweaver’s help. I’m supposed to be convincing people they’re harmless. What would convince them more than if I used their dream-healing services?
She could not see Juran approving of a White allowing a Dreamweaver into her mind—or even an ordinary priest or priestess exploring her thoughts and discovering their secrets.
Perhaps if she watched the mind of a Dreamweaver performing a dream healing on another person she would learn the knack of it… and be able to pass the knowledge on to one of the other White… and they could…
Her thoughts drifted. She was talking to Mairae, but it was nonsense. The other White kept laughing and saying they didn’t understand. Frustrated, Auraya stepped out of the window to fly away, but she couldn’t quite control her movements. A wind kept blowing her sideways. She floated into a cloud and was surrounded by a chill whiteness.
Out of that whiteness appeared a glowing figure. She felt her heart lighten. Chaia smiled and moved closer. His face was so clear. She could see every eyelash.
My dreams are never this vivid…
He leaned forward to kiss her.
… or this interesting.
His lips met hers. It was no chaste, affectionate brush of magic. She felt his touch as if he were real.
Suddenly she was sitting up on her elbows in bed again. Her heart was pounding, but not from fear. Lingering feelings of elation melted away, leaving her disturbed.
What am I thinking? Gods, I hope Chaia wasn’t watching me!
She tried to gather her thoughts. It wasn’t intentional. It was just a dream. She couldn’t control her dreams. Ah, if only I could!
She lay back down, patting Mischief as he gave a sleepy whine at her movement.
A dream, she told herself. Surely Chaia wouldn’t have been offended by that?
Even so, it was a long time before she fell asleep again.
It wasn’t easy staying awake. Imi stared at the ceiling, tracing the marks made hundreds of years before by the tools of cave-carvers.
From the other side of the room came a soft wheezing.
At last!
She smiled and slowly began to climb out of the pool. It was one of Teiti’s duties to stay close to her at night