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“Who is this young man?” asked the cacica. “He has not asked to be brought to my notice. Yet he speaks as if I had requested his opinion.”
“I do not need anyone’s permission to speak!” said Amadou.
I squelched an urge to punch him.
“Your pardon, Your Highness,” said Bee. “It was rude of me to forget my manners.”
I wasn’t sure I liked Bee’s simpering expression as she introduced Amadou Barry to the cacica as a young man of high rank like to that of the nobles of the Taino kingdom. The cacica was not impressed by his grudging courtesy. I wasn’t either. But I had more urgent concerns. Ahead lay a sprinkle of drying ichor and a mat of white feathers whose pattern I recognized.
“Blessed Tanit! We’ve come back to where we started. It’s not that we’re not going anywhere. We’re going in a circle around a wall with no entry. The chain that binds me to Andevai can pierce the wall but we can’t.” I poked at the wall with the tip of my sword. Its substance remained stubbornly hard. “He’s inside, but we have no gate.”
“No gate?” remarked the cacica, in surprise. “You cut a gate once in the fence the behiques raised around Kiskeya, young woman. As you well recall, since it was through that gate my murderer entered my realm. Why can you not cut a gate here in the same manner?”
Amadou Barry rudely spoke right over her words.
“You just claimed to know what you are about in this place,” he said in the tone of a man who has had enough of the pretensions of the lesser folk. “It is time you girls gave up this fruitless quest and returned to Adurnam with me.”
Bee turned to look out toward the horizon. “Cat! A light is rising. A dragon is turning in her sleep. I can feel the smoke of her dreams rushing toward us.”
A blaze of white fire splintered the darkness, rolling toward us across a flat, grassy landscape.
“Rory! Come here! Bee, get hold of him. Legate, grab Beatrice’s hand.”
Shuddering with fear, Rory pushed up against Bee as I sheathed my sword and flung one arm around her and with the other grabbed a hank of Rory’s pelt. My hip was pressed into Rory’s heaving side.
“What are you doing?” demanded Amadou Barry.
“Legate, if you don’t grab hold of her now, you will be swept away—”
“Blessed Tanit!” exclaimed Bee.
The tide of the dream, like daylight, illuminated a crowd of animals creeping toward us out of the night. The beasts seemed oblivious to the tide because they were so intent on murdering Bee.
“Brave Jupiter! I shall fight them off!” Amadou advanced like a hero, sword raised to threaten the beasts.
The tide swept down, ripping through them, tearing a gash through the world.
“Amadou!” cried Bee, dropping the hammer. “Grab hold of my hand!”
The light cut through me. The earth fell away as the world tipped to spill me into an abyss through which I would fall for eternity. But Bee was my rock. She was the pillar that no earthquake or storm could dislodge. She was warded ground.
Amadou Barry did not reach for her. The tide struck him full on. One moment I saw his body clearly, streaked with currents of shining smoke. Then he tumbled into an unseen gash in the fabric of the world. The tide of the dream streamed on, leaving us trembling in its wake as the earth shuddered back into solidity under our feet.
Rory nudged me, and I let go of Bee and knelt to bury my face in his thick black pelt. After I caught my breath, I raised my eyes.
Bee did not move. In one hand she still held the head of Queen Anacaona. Her other arm was extended, but her hand was empty.
She swayed as if caught in a gust of wind, then crumpled to her knees and began weeping.
The tide had taken him.
I was so furious at Amadou Barry for being an idiot who wouldn’t listen that I simply could not speak one word.
Those who are caught in the tide of a dragon’s dream never come back.
The head of Queen Anacaona stared across a stony plain, now empty of life. The tide had swept away the animals who stalked us. Even the wind had died, leaving flat red earth and a cold gray sky. Behind us the impenetrable wall now appeared as a windowless but modest tower no larger than a watchtower on a Roman wall. The tower was the only object visible in this parched desert. There were not even hills marking the horizon.
“My ancestors built a fence around our kingdom so the tides of the Great Smoke would not trouble our ancestors,” the cacica remarked, as if she were accustomed to seeing people vanish in such an abrupt and shocking manner. “All of Soraya, our spirit land, became warded ground. Therefore, our wise and beloved grandparents remain close beside us, to advise us in times of need and to celebrate with us at the festivals.”
