“Very well,” Madame said, tapping her nails on a long narrow box fastened shut with an enchanted lock and heavily warded. With a start, Rose realized it must contain her contract, the blood geas still sealed to Madame Hendricks. “See to it that you keep this avatar out of trouble,” Madame said, the warning clear that she could and would enforce the command if necessary.
As if Rose had any control over a goddess’s avatar, but she nodded obediently, briefly lowering her gaze to hide the sudden flare of impotent anger.
“And if She Who Eats Bears descends upon us, I’m holding you personally responsible,” Madame added.
Rose rather thought that, if the goddess did appear, they’d have bigger problems, but she managed to hold her tongue on that also. “Yes, Madame.”
“I don’t care for this any more than you do,” Madame said, not sounding entirely sincere. Giving one last fascinated look at Adsila, she at last dragged her gaze to meet Rose’s. “But I must do what I must. I understand you managed to physically walk the Dream.”
On firmer ground now, Rose nodded, though she wonderedif Master Zoltan had related whatever concern had sent him off with such a forbidding mien. “Only a short trip so far, in and out of the same portal. I hope to try again today. Master Zoltan wants me to perfect my technique before I attempt to exit from a different location.”
Madame grunted in acknowledgment, her eyes sliding back to the left of Rose’s head. Adsila flexed her talons, though the shoulder padding that the keeper of the mews had given Rose did a great deal to keep her from feeling the prick in her flesh. That first evening had been miserable until someone suggested she visit the academy’s mews for help, which she’d done first thing that morning.
“We cannot list the skill on your resume until you’ve perfected that critical component,” Madame said, telling Rose nothing she didn’t already know. “It’s hardly useful to anyone for you to physically enter the Dream but be unable to go anywhere else. What client would pay for that?”
“No one?” Rose asked in return, managing to keep a perfectly straight face.
“‘No one’ is correct,” Madame confirmed portentously, nodding. “Don’t become overconfident simply because you have already received numerous excellent contract offers. Those are all conditional upon your graduation and certifiable skills as confirmed by the academy if and when that happy occasion arises.”
Rose nearly rolled her eyes. The academy pretended to hold graduation and certification over their heads, but in truth even “expelled” students received employment. The academy had their return on investment to consider. They didn’t sell contracts for less than cost if they could help it.
“Have you settled upon the contract you’ll accept yet?” Madame asked, gaze back on Rose with cannily glittering discernment. “His Majesty’s offer is, I assume, particularly enticing, what with the attendantperks.” The woman actually smirked.
“I have not yet decided, Madame,” she replied with quietdignity she didn’t feel. Beside her head, Adsila ruffled her feathers, making a soft dovelike, cooing sound Rose would never have expected of the raptor.
“Hmph. Well, don’t drag your feet too long. Clients making enticing offers don’t like feeling unappreciated. Offers can be and have been withdrawn when clients fear their prospective employee is potentially difficult to work with.” She tapped a long nail on the box containing Rose’s contract again. “It’s very important for you to be agreeable.”
It was on the tip of Rose’s tongue to quip that she hardly had a choice, but she wisely continued to take the opportunity to keep her mouth shut. And, at last, Madame Hendricks released her, though not without several unsubtle reminders that the academy stood to make a tidy profit off the sale of Rose’s contract and that inconveniently arriving avatars of intimidating deities were unlikely to be appreciated by prospective clients.
At the midday meal, the dining hall was abuzz with gossip about a putative magical attack at some inn in the countryside. Rose listened with half an ear, easy to do from her habitual seat at the end of the high table. She wasn’t exactly the loner she’d been before Sebastien’s arrival, but neither was she in the center of gregarious conversation as when Sebastien was present. That was fine with her, as she had a great deal to think about, plus Adsila to feed, the kestrel accepting tidbits of meat from Rose’s hand and leaving the fingers intact. Despite that evidence, her fellow students kept an empty chair between them and her. Perhaps they feared the albatross attaching herself to them, a quasi-whimsical thought that had Rose smiling grimly to herself.
People also slid her sideways, quizzical glances as they discussed the rumors, as the attack—if it truly was one, but why would any sorcerer launch a major offensive at an inn in the middle of nowhere?—bore certain hallmarks of oneiromancy. Privately, Rose thought that people tended to slap the label of “oneiromancy” on anything magical that smacked of nightmares.Given that oneiromancers capable of doing anything more than soothing bad dreams or easing insomnia were few and far between, another explanation seemed far more likely.
When asked for her opinion, Rose said as much, then pointedly mentioned she’d been at HASP the entire time of the incident in question, so unless she had an evil twin out there somewhere, she doubted oneiromancy was involved. It wasn’t Sebastien-level wit, but at least everyone laughed.
That afternoon, she spent time in the oneiromancy studio alone, except for Adsila’s constant company. Master Zoltan had sent a missive saying he needed to research a problem and would not be joining her. She wasnotto attempt physically walking the Dream until he approved and was present. She was instead to practice searching the Dream for specific dreamers. He provided a list of people she was to locate.
She’d done this exercise before, but she set herself to the task with resigned determination. At least it was practicing a skill she needed to physically walk the Dream. In order to travel to a new destination, she needed to find an active dreamer, then move through the Dream to their physical location, open a portal to that location, and step through. Not incidentally, that meant holding on to two portals at once, both large enough for her physical body to pass through.
It felt not unlike juggling flaming knives with her feet while walking on her hands. Not that she’d ever attempted such a feat, but she’d seen a woman acrobat perform such a dazzling display at a fair at Northbrooke when she was a child and the image had stuck with her. Although she was holding open only a single portal into the Dream for this exercise—and just enough for her to reach through mentally—seeking out a dreamer she didn’t already know, preferably as far away as possible from her physical location, took a fair amount of concentration.
Physical distance didn’t exist in the Dream, of course, but the exercise still posed its challenges. Rose emerged from hermeditative state to find Adsila staring at her with glittering copper eyes from her roost. Following the advice of the keeper of the mews, she’d accepted several of the perches to keep in places she frequented. Apparently even a padded shoulder appreciated some time off from being a human perch.
“You’re right,” she said to Adsila, who always seemed to have something to communicate, though Rose doubted she interpreted whatever it was correctly. “That’s enough for today.” Indeed, she’d missed dinner, and it was coming close to final lights-out. So, Adsila once again on her shoulder, she climbed her tower steps, feeling her magical weariness deep in her bones. Opening her chamber door, she nearly shrieked in surprise at the sight of Sebastien waiting inside.
“Rose,” he said, speaking her name with a question in his voice, as if he’d expected someone else. “I need to—Whoa! Who is that?” He spun, watching as Adsila launched from Rose’s shoulder in a blur of blue and copper, emitting a cry as she did. The kestrel circled Sebastien’s head once before arrowing to her perch and settling herself there with a smug flutter of feathers. “You got a kestrel?” Sebastien asked in wonder. He gazed at the bird. “No. No ordinary bird. What is her name?”
“She is Adsila, avatar of She Who Eats Bears. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.”
“I can’t hear her at all. I think she’s not really a bird. Is that what being an avatar means?” Distractedly, his green gaze came back to hers. He looked tired, careworn as she’d never seen him. Pained, leaning to the side a bit and not his usual robust self. Face lined with grief. Nonna looked wilted lying alone before the fire, chin on her paws, not even bothering to open her eyes, much less greet Rose. Nina was nowhere in sight. Something terrible had happened.
“That’s one way to think of it,” she answered gently.
He nodded absently. “Everything is so strange lately.”
Rose set aside her disappointment that Sebastien couldn’ttalk to Adsila. She’d been hoping he’d be able to ask the not-a-bird some questions, like why she was there. “Are you all right?” she asked, edging closer, as Sebastien looked apt to fall over where he stood. “Where’s Nina? What has happened?”
He laughed without humor, his manner darker than she’d ever seen. “So much happened. You’ll hardly believe it when I tell you. But youhaveto believe me, Rose. Promise me you will.”
