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Ocean of Dreams: An Epic Portal Fantasy
41. Old Enough to Know Better

41. Old Enough to Know Better

Kelsam

Kelsam and Jason sat on the floor of their room at the lodge in Ursena, in the northern part of Sulair. It wasn’t the finest establishment they’d stayed in on their journey; the room was cramped, but the futons were clean, and the innkeeper had loaned them a board and pieces to play Tashta. Naomi and Esar were still out somewhere, far enough from civilization that she could practice with her Rispara powers, so Kelsam was teaching Jason the rules of the game. He laid out the pieces to demonstrate each of the scoring patterns—the bigger the pattern, the higher the score, but the greater the risk of disruption by your opponent.

“Well, think you’ve got it?”

“No, but I’ll give it a try anyway,” Jason said.

“You’ll pick it up once we get going. It’s simpler than it looks.”

Before they could begin the game, however, the door flew open, then closed with a slam.

“I’m done. I give up, we’re all doomed, and I don’t give a damn any more.” Esar tore off his jacket and threw it aside.

“Again?” Jason said quietly.

Kelsam suppressed a smile. “You’re getting more patient. It’s been three whole days since the last time you quit. What did she do this time?”

“She jumped off a cliff.”

Kelsam coughed. “She jumped—”

“Oh, she’s fine,” Esar said. “It wasn’t a very high cliff.”

“But why—”

“Because she thinks she can fly.”

“Can she?”

Esar didn’t dignify that with an answer. Lately, Naomi had taken to traveling by leaps and bounds, making use of the old-growth forests in this part of the country to reach new heights. Still, jumping off a cliff was . . . a bit much.

“Where is she?” Kelsam asked.

“I don’t know. Downstairs, across the street, lying in a heap of broken bones at the bottom of a bigger cliff, I don’t even care.”

Kelsam closed his eyes and counted silently before speaking. “Do you want me to go find her?”

“I’ll find her. I just need a minute . . .”

Kelsam glanced over at Jason, who was studying the Tashta board as if he was preparing for a test. It seemed like forever since he’d had a moment alone with Esar, but Naomi and Jason were always around, and that made it impossible for Esar to relax. Kelsam wrapped his arms around his husband anyway, just a minimal show of affection, but Esar didn’t even unclench his jaw.

“Is there something else bothering you?”

“Yes. But I don’t know what it is yet. Just felt . . . off all day. Like something unpleasant is waiting around the corner.” He broke away from Kelsam’s hug and headed for the door. “I’d better go find Naomi.”

Kelsam returned to the game with Jason, but it was hard to keep his mind on Tashta when the ill omen Esar sensed now seemed to be bearing down on him as well. Jason was able to break his pattern, and he had to settle for a lower-scoring alternative, which allowed the boy to win his very first game.

“You don’t have to let me win, you know. I’m not a little kid,” Jason said.

“That’s just round one,” Kelsam said. “I won’t go so easy on you next time.”

They played three more matches. Kelsam won the first two, but Jason beat him in the third, and they were just clearing the board for a tiebreaker match when the door flew open, and Esar literally dragged Naomi into the room.

“You heard what he said! You know that it isn’t true!” Naomi shouted. “All I did was—”

Esar slammed the door behind her. “You let your temper get the better of you. This is exactly what I was afraid of!”

“Now what happened?” Kelsam asked. Naomi looked a bit disheveled, but that wasn’t unusual.

“Some guy was saying that they shouldn’t let anybody cross the border from Nalla-Bidharac. That they didn’t need more lake scum in Sulair. That’s literally what he said, lake scum!”

Kelsam winced. Unfortunately, too many had that sort of attitude when it came to lakelanders. “That’s . . . awful, but what did you . . .”

“She punched him,” Esar said.

“I didn’t punch him right away,” Naomi said. “First I told him if the rest of Elorhe hadn’t turned their back on Nalla-Bidharac, if they’d actually invested in the people and given them opportunities, you wouldn’t have these petty lords who are basically just gang bosses with titles. You wouldn’t have people desperate to get away. And he gives me some crap about how everybody’s free to make their own choices and if the Nalla-Bidharans are so unhappy about their leaders they should change their own province instead of leeching off of his and—”

“And I showed up just in time to keep things from getting even uglier,” Esar said. “He must have assumed I was her father. Told me I needed to teach my daughter some respect. Dreadful man. But that doesn’t excuse your actions, Naomi.”

“I don’t understand. You’re all Elorhan, right? Why don’t you care about what happens in Nalla-Bidharac? It’s a kleptocracy. It’s awful.” Naomi looked to Kelsam with tears in her eyes—he’d almost gotten used to their odd color—as if she thought he, of all people, would be able to provide an explanation for human tribalism and cruelty.

Kelsam answered her carefully. “It . . . wasn’t so bad, I think, before the seals started breaking. After that, everything else was less important. And with the attention of the king and queen focused on the constructs, the Yasohs could get away with a lot more.”

“Yeah, and the only Yasoh who cared about anything but himself died in Bhadrat,” Naomi said.

Kelsam blinked. “I’m surprised you knew about that,” he said, looking to Esar. His husband had been giving Naomi lessons in Elorhan history, but he kept as far from that difficult subject as possible.

“Adrin told me all about the Yasoh family. Hey, is Dhanlir on our way? That’s where Adrin’s family lives. I want to go make sure they’re all right. And tell them that he’s all right.”

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“And how will you explain to them why you know that Adrin is all right?” Esar asked with exaggerated patience.

“But they’re his family! Can’t we trust them? They must have seen the notice he was going into the Ocean, they’re probably worried sick—”

“It doesn’t matter because Dhanlir, I’m afraid, is quite out of our way. We’re going to the port in Chacry. I just pray that it’s still open—and that we make it there without any more trouble.”

“In two days we’ll be in Rhadasy,” Kelsam said, trying to inject some brightness into the conversation. “It’s the largest Sanctuary in Nalla-Bidharac, and I’ve heard they did great things with the garden in the past couple years. They do so much for the people of Nalla-Bidharac, too, Naomi. There’s a school and a hospital . . .”

“It’s not enough,” Naomi said. “Some of the stories Adrin told me . . . he got lucky, to get out and go to the university. A lot of people haven’t had his luck.”

“You know he’s engaged to someone else, right?” Jason said. He’d gotten out his sketchbook a while ago, but Kelsam knew that he was listening to everything they said.

Naomi whirled to face him. “Of course, how couldn’t I?”

“Just wanted to make sure you hadn’t forgotten.”

Naomi stared at him for a moment, then took a step in his direction. “You think I fancy him?”

“Do you even hear yourself? It’s so obvious it’s annoying.”

“I like him, but it’s not like that. He’s my friend.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” Jason smirked down at his sketchbook. Kelsam coughed to cover a laugh.

“No, seriously, don’t even joke about that sort of thing. It’s not funny. It’s not funny,” she added, rounding on Kelsam. “Oh my god. You think so too, don’t you?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.” Kelsam kept a straight face only by valiant effort.

“You guys!” Naomi looked to Esar, who seemed befuddled by this new direction of conversation. She covered her face with her hands, too late to hide how red her cheeks had become. “I don’t—I don’t know why you think I’m in love with Adrin, but I’m not, all right?”

“Naomi,” Kelsam said as gently as he could. It wasn’t amusing any more, now that he could see that the subject was causing Naomi some real anguish. “We can’t control how we feel, or who we love. It’s all right. You already know nothing can come of it, but you feel how you feel.”

“No, it’s not all right! You think I’m just saying this because I’m stupid, or embarrassed, and it’s not—that’s not the way it is.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Kelsam said. “We don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

The room fell silent, and Naomi seemed to catch her breath and calm down. Kelsam looked over at Jason, who was pretending to be absorbed in his drawing, but Kelsam suspected that the boy was far more interested in the tempest he’d stirred up with his last comment. Sure enough, it was Jason who broke the silence.

“So every night, you meet this guy in your dreams, and you just . . . talk . . . to each other?”

“Oh my god, Jason!” Naomi leapt across the room at him and seized his sketchbook, drawing it back as if she was going to hit him with it. “You need to shut your mouth before I—”

“What are you so mad about? You two are obviously made for each other. You’re the two most wonderful, special people in the world—”

“Enough!” Kelsam shouted. He’d expected Esar to intervene sooner, but his husband seemed to want only to get away from the spat. Naomi and Jason froze, but they didn’t back down. Damn it, how did parents deal with this sort of thing? Was Kelsam going to have to get between them and physically break up a fight?

“Naomi, give Jason back his sketchbook. And Jason, don’t pretend you’re innocent. You’re both old enough to know better.”

They both looked at him, weighing whether or not he had any authority to tell them what to do. Kelsam, honestly, was wondering the same thing.

Naomi lowered the sketchbook, no longer wielding it like a weapon, but she didn’t let go just yet. “Besides, it’s not just me and Adrin in the dreams. Queen Zafrys is usually . . .”

“Naomi, just give it a rest, all right?” Kelsam sat down on his futon, rubbing his temples. There was something strangely familiar about the situation, though he couldn’t figure out just what.

Naomi gave Jason back his sketchbook and hurried over to sit next to him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“You just brought back a memory of how I used to fight with my sister,” Kelsam said. He’d been the little brother once, needling Thady, trying to make her mad just for the fun of it, or to get even with her for . . . what?

For being his mother’s favorite child. For being the one with a special gift, a talent, a brilliance that impressed everyone who met her. For being special. Yes, even though he didn’t share the feeling, Kelsam understood Jason’s annoyance with Naomi all too well.

“The one we met, or the one who died?” Naomi asked, then clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry! I—I shouldn’t have said it like that.”

“It’s all right. It was a long time ago.”

“She was on that mission too, wasn’t she? The one with Thalis Yasoh and all the others…”

“What exactly happened there? All you told me is that your parents blame Esar for it,” Jason said.

Kelsam drew in a breath, looking to Esar for guidance. Jason and Naomi ought to know about Bhadrat, but he didn’t want to dredge up painful memories if Esar wasn’t in the right state of mind. “It’s a long story,” Kelsam said.

“Bullshit! Any time someone asks you or Esar a question, it’s always some kind of excuse!” Jason threw his pencil down and glared at Kelsam.

“Jason—” Naomi hissed, leaning between Kelsam and Jason, as if she were trying to intercept his glare.

“Sixteen years ago, Kaethar and my father disappeared from the face of the Earth. Sixteen years ago, your sister died in some big disaster and it wasn’t a coincidence. Remember when you wanted to find answers, Naomi? Isn’t that why you brought me here? Or is all you care about your superpowers and your dream boyfriend?”

“It was an archaeological expedition.” Esar crossed the room to stand over Jason, speaking in a tightly-controlled monotone. “At the end of the Victorless War, Bhadrat was a wasteland. No one in the core region survived—that is, no humans survived. The constructs remained, more than a hundred of them, patrolling the twisted ruins of their dead masters. No one who entered their realm returned. But when the sealed constructs started to reawaken, we thought there might be a way to stop them buried in that dead kingdom. I dreamed that there was . . . something hidden there, buried deep beneath the capital city. I gave them hope and Thady, Danthan and forty-four others followed it to their deaths.”

“You sent them on a suicide mission?” Jason asked.

“It wasn’t like that! It was the chance of a lifetime for Thady, she knew the risk involved—they all knew. For her, the chance to see things no one had seen for four hundred years was worth risking her life.”

“But he’s supposed to see the future. He didn’t see they were all going to die?” Jason said.

“They did send back eight pounds of shisao before they vanished,” Kelsam said.

“Don’t try to make it sound any better than it is, Kels. I know what I did. And maybe . . . maybe it would have been worse if they didn’t go.” Esar was looking at Naomi now, and Kelsam remembered him talking about lost futures, paths that were closed because people changed the course of the future.

“I don’t get it. What did you dream? What did you think was there?” Jason demanded, not letting go of the subject.

“I don’t remember.”

“How do you forget something like that?” Jason asked.

“Because when you screw up your brain enough you forget a lot of things!” Esar snapped. “Tresuans back in Bhadrat lost their minds because of the torture they went through to amplify their powers. They used the same damn thing on me, and I’m—well, I wasn’t always this way.”

Kelsam got up to offer Esar some much-needed support, but just then an idea sparked in his brain. “You don’t remember, but it’s all in the reports—Yanset Bharsalli’s reports. They must still be in the university archives. They’re confidential, but if the Prince Ethereal requests them, they won’t be able to refuse him.”

“I’ll ask Adrin about them tonight!” Naomi said cheerfully. The shadow that had fallen over the rest of the room didn’t seem to have touched her. “What was the name again?”

“Yanset Bharsalli,” Esar repeated. “She’s dead, too; she was part of the mission to Bhadrat as well. But there may be answers in the records of her . . . experiments.”

Kelsam put a hand on Esar’s back. The records would be of experiments Yanset had conducted on Esar himself. Kelsam didn’t blame Esar for not wanting to recall that time, but they had to know. Maybe something that didn’t make sense at the time would become clear in the light of the present day.