Oberon's Dreams - By Aaron Pogue Page 0,58

at his…what?”

All three stood staring at Corin as though he were mad. He raised an eyebrow. “I am a man out of time! Just tell me what I’m missing.”

Maurelle said, “Dwarves do not leave their chapter houses.”

“They are not allowed,” Kellen said. “By Oberon’s decree.”

Avery nodded. “For their safety, as much as anything. The dwarves who do not live in distant mines travel under high security and only between chapter houses.”

Corin shrugged. “See how easy that was? Next time, just explain it to me.”

For a long moment, he stood thinking. Robbing Ephitel did have a certain appeal. That sword made a worthy target, too, even before he’d known it might be Godslayer. But now he had a chance to steal a legendary artifact from Ephitel, king of gods, with the aid of Avery of Jesalich, king of thieves. In his own time, Corin would have leaped at any part of that adventure, and here it was his only way of getting home. He had to do it. For Iryana, and for glory.

“Very well,” he said. “Show me the way.”

A wide, slow river brought fresh water to Gesoelig. It rolled between the city’s many hills and curved protectively around the fertile spit of land that held the palace. Like everything else about the place, the bridge that crossed the river looked a mighty structure crafted of stone from any distance, but approaching from the palace side, Corin saw it as a living thing. The texture was rough and knotty, like ancient bark, though its main surface was worn smooth from years of traffic. Corin puzzled over it as he walked, and he was nearly to the other side before he figured it out. Then he spun in place, horrified, and stared back more than a mile to the palace. “Impossible!”

Kellen drew his sword. Avery searched their trail with darting eyes. Maurelle just cocked her head and asked, “What?”

“It’s a root,” Corin said.

Kellen sheathed his sword, Avery grumbled something and turned back toward Ephitel’s estate, but Maurelle beamed. “Oberon always wanted Hurope to have a world tree. It is nothing like the real thing yet, but give it time. It will be marvelous someday.”

It will be buried in a mountain, Corin thought. Or can I stop that happening? What did happen to this place? It was as much as he’d considered the question in all the time he’d been here. Time. That was the key. There was never any time—not to plan, not to explain, not to ask questions. He was always running.

And now was no different. He had no wish to try his skill at pickpocketing against an armed Lord Ephitel. He had to get the sword while the prince was otherwise engaged. Perhaps when that was done he’d find the time to ask a question or two about the nature of reality. For now, he turned his back on the incredible tree, offered Maurelle his arm, and hurried down the busy street in pursuit of Avery.

As he went, he thought about the palace. About the strange gardened courtyard and Kellen’s earlier comment. What else would you expect of the king of fairies? He thought of the strange behavior of the courtiers and the mad monster on the throne. He ducked his head toward Maurelle.

“Why is he like that?”

“Who?”

“The king. Why does his palace look like a palace from the outside, and like a park from within? Why do the courtiers…” He shook his head, unable to describe them. “Why aren’t you like that? Or Kellen? Or Ephitel?”

Sadness touched her eyes so they drooped at the outer corners, and her lip trembled. “We are not allowed. That is one of the rules of this world. If we want to play here, we must play by its rules. And it has so many rules. Only those at court can ever truly let their hair down.”

Corin stared at her. “You want to be more like that?”

She gave a solemn nod. “Cause and effect can be so tiring. I miss the dance.”

Corin turned away, continuing down into the city. But as he went, he shook his head. “I like you better like this.”

“Of course you do,” she said, bumping his shoulder playfully. “You’re just a manling.”

Their easy path grew more difficult once they reached the city streets. Perhaps the night had thinned the crowds a bit, but they’d returned with sunrise. Corin struggled to find a path for Maurelle. Avery’s black clothes and Kellen’s uniform were easy enough to spot, but Corin and Maurelle