Naomi

It was easier for Naomi to tell Adrin about the vision at the ruined city than it had been to tell Esar, perhaps because she’d been through it all once already, perhaps because she didn’t have to worry so much that Adrin was going to think something she said was stupid or ridiculous. It was easier to give voice to her inner thoughts in a dream as well, things that never came out right when she said them while awake.

“I can’t stop thinking about how sad he was. He might have been a relative of mine, and he just looked . . . broken. He was made to be a weapon. I guess that means I’m a weapon, too.”

“You’re not a weapon. You’re human—that’s what Brizin said. The Rispara were, and are, human.” Adrin said it firmly, but his reassurance wasn’t enough to dislodge the thought that had been gnawing at her since she’d left the melted city.

“That doesn’t mean I’m not a weapon,” Naomi said. “I’m not a monster, maybe, and I can think for myself. But that just makes me a weapon who can think. I saw what he could do—what I could do. It was terrifying . . . and amazing.” That was what scared her the most; she’d seen him walk on air and turn buildings to sludge. She could do those things, too. She wanted to do those things, so long as she didn’t harm anyone.

“But you said he didn’t kill anyone.”

“Except himself.”

Adrin made a face. She’d gone too far with the doom and gloom. Better lighten it up.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m all right. I bet I could be a really good weapon, once I get the hang of it. Better than you, anyway.” She grinned, then realized he might take her joke as an insult. “Just kidding.”

“No, you’re probably right,” Adrin sighed.

“Okay, then. When I get to Thaliron, I’m going to come and punch Suzari and Gabril and all of them in the face.”

“Don’t do that!” Adrin drew back, eyes wide.

Naomi laughed, blushing. “Fine. I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

“You’re kidding again, right?” he asked, looking her in the eyes.

Naomi shrugged. “Maybe?” Everyone made a big deal about her eyes being a weird color, but she found Adrin’s eyes far more interesting. They were a striking hazel, with a yellow-gold sunburst around the pupil that faded into green at the edge of the iris. She was a bit sorry when he looked away.

“I still have to work with them. I have to get along with them, somehow.”

“You’re a prince, right? So why not just . . . order them to like you?”

Adrin snorted. “Right . . . Why didn’t I think of that?”

There, that was better. He hadn’t laughed, quite, but he’d relaxed, and there was something more like a smile on his face. It couldn’t be good for him to take everything so seriously all the time.

Adrin got to his feet. “Is it okay if I try to bring Queen Zafrys to meet you, now?” He’d raised the possibility earlier, but Naomi hadn’t wanted to talk about her experiences in front of a stranger. Now, she supposed she’d have to steel herself to meet an actual queen.

“Go ahead.”

“Let’s see if this works,” Adrin said. A moment later, a woman materialized in front of him with her back to Naomi.

“Well done. Nice dreamspace you’ve manifested here,” she said.

“It’s not mine, it’s hers,” Adrin said, indicating that the queen should turn around.

“So, you must be Naomi,” Zafrys said, looking down on her with piercing blue-green eyes. “Where do I even start with you?”

Naomi froze. What was she supposed to say? How was she supposed to address Zafrys? Was she supposed to bow, or curtsey, or something? Just—say something, anything—

“You don’t look old enough to be a grandmother,” she said.

Oh no. By the time Naomi realized what she was saying, it was too late to stop the words from coming out. Normally even she had better self control than that, but something about dreaming seemed to short circuit the filter between her brain and her mouth.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

But Zafrys laughed, a real, kind laugh that helped put Naomi at ease. “Well, can you blame me for dreaming I’m back in my prime?” She turned to examine the trellis and pace a bit around the courtyard, and for a moment Naomi had a glimpse of a white-haired, wrinkled version of the queen. “I was a little worried when Adrin said you were here on your own, but this truly is a lovely spot you’ve built for yourself. ”

“I’ve been dreaming of this place for as long as I can remember. It hasn’t always been quite the same, but . . .”

Naomi hadn’t given her surroundings much thought, just as one didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about the furniture in their bedroom, except to note when something was out of place. And, well, things were where they belonged, here. But then a memory surfaced of the first time she’d climbed up onto that bench and sat down next to a man who smiled at her and apologized for being away for so long.

Naomi hugged herself against the chill that cut through her. She glanced at Adrin, then faced Zafrys to make her admission. “I don’t think I made this all myself. I think my father had something to do with it.”

“Ah. That makes sense. Your father likely knows more about the dreamspace than anyone but Brizin herself,” Zafrys said. “Why, what’s the matter?”

Naomi looked down at the floor, at the pattern of tiles that had never changed. She couldn’t stop shivering. “I don’t like knowing that. This was supposed to be my place. I don’t like to think he’s part of it.”

“Perhaps he helped you in the beginning, but it seems to me that you’ve made this dreamspace very much your own. Kaethar’s room had the same tile floor, but . . .”

“What do you mean? You knew him?” Hope that the queen might have some answers warmed Naomi and brightened the sunlight that shone on them all.

Zafrys sighed, resting her fingers on the trellis beside her. “He was a child. Or rather, he looked like a child. He’s almost as old as Brizin, but he never had a chance to grow up.”

“You didn’t tell me you knew him,” Adrin said.

“There’s only so much time in one night, Adrin,” Zafrys said. “And I didn’t know him for long. He was . . . may I sit down?”

The queen was asking her for permission? “Of—of course!” Naomi scooted over to make room for Zafrys and Adrin on her bench. It would have been a tight fit for three if the bench hadn’t stretched as she slid down it, and now it would seat them all quite comfortably.

“Kaethar wasn’t around much, by the time I was chosen. And he was always odd. Childlike, in some ways. He used to play tricks on Noete.”

“Who?” Naomi asked.

“She was the queen when I was the Princess Ethereal. She knew him better, from before I was chosen, but by the time I came, Kaethar and Brizin were already . . . estranged.” Zafrys shook her head, and Naomi glimpsed the older woman again. “I did see him a few times. I remember clearly the last time I saw him. He brought me here and told me how he’d never had a chance at an ordinary life. That his mother had stolen that from him. Brizin insisted he’d been given a choice, but he was just a child . . .”

“How old did you say he was?” Adrin asked.

“From the look of him, he couldn’t have been more than ten or eleven,” Zafrys said. “I remember, he looked about as old as Irezan, so it would have been forty-five years ago. I never saw him again after that.”

“He wanted a chance at an ordinary life?” Naomi couldn’t believe it—it couldn’t be true. If it were, he wouldn’t have gone. What would her childhood even have been like if she’d grown up with both her parents, a normal family in a normal house, instead of running from shadows for the first decade of her life, barely scraping by? Maybe she’d be able to feel that security and sense of belonging that her half-brothers took for granted.

“He could have had that if that’s what he wanted, but instead he decided he wanted to go—become a messiah!”

“It’s not your fault,” Adrin said.

“You don’t know that. Everything was fine before I ruined—” Naomi broke off. What had she said to make him think she blamed herself?

Did she blame herself? When something went wrong, it was almost always her fault, wasn’t it?

No, she wasn’t going to follow where that led. Looking inward like that was too uncomfortable.

An uncomfortable silence lingered until Zafrys broke it. “How’s Esar doing these days?”

“Crabby,” Naomi replied quickly, grateful for the change of subject. Zafrys snorted, and Naomi stopped thinking of the woman sitting next to her as a queen. “He doesn’t think I should trust Adrin.”

“Hm. Well, I suppose he’s earned the right to be cautious. But if he can’t trust Adrin, perhaps he’ll trust me? Tell him—oh, damn it. You can’t tell him anything, can you?”

“Actually, she can tell him anything. The prohibition doesn’t apply to her. She wasn’t chosen by the Ocean, so the Ocean can’t limit what she says,” Adrin said.

“Well, that’s convenient,” A smile crept across Zafrys’s face. “In that case, I’ve got a message for Esar.”

Naomi leaned forward and nodded. “I’ll do my best to relay it to him. I don’t always remember everything perfectly from my dreams, but Esar is making me keep a journal to practice.”

Zafrys burst out laughing. “Like you’re a junior Tresuan!”

Naomi didn’t know what was so funny, and exchanged a look with Adrin, who didn’t seem to get the joke, either.

“Tell him that you met Queen Zafrys, and she told you to tell him that Adrin has her unconditional trust and support, and he needs the same from the Tresuan if we’re going to hold Elorhe together. I want to know what he’s found out, and I want to know what his mother found out before she ran off to who-knows-where on her latest research mission. There’s something else he ought to know, too—his little brother picked up the Semfrey family tradition of nosing around for secrets. We let Raen have access to the archives, then he confronted me and screamed that I was ‘complicit in the great deception,’ and the next day he was gone. I tried to tell Esar at the funeral but the Ocean wouldn’t let me. But if you can tell him—”

“I will,” Naomi promised.

“Wake up and do it, before you forget,” Zafrys said. “You can wake yourself up, can’t you?”

Naomi could, and she did just that.