...A lone horseman galloped over a hill and down into a valley littered with the dead of a large battle...

...A ship with black sails fights its way through a storm...

...Hefler slumps against a wall, blood and viscera oozing from beneath hands pressed to his stomach...

...A raging band of barbarians run across a plain and crash against a small army. A green standard with a gold unicorn rampant flaps in the wind...

...A man with dark hair and a chin dimple walked away with sadness clouding his lake-water green eyes...

...The same man, shackled, swings a sword at a fat man in red robes...

#

Daezin opened her eyes to Hefler’s concerned face.

“It’s about time.”

“Unh.” She rolled over and pulled the blanket over her head. Wait a minute. She rolled back and sat up. “Ouch.” Daezin rubbed her head. Damn shelf. Who would put one above the bunk?

“Smooth move, sis.” Hefler held out a mug.

“I can see you.”

“It seems you can. How do I look?” Hefler raked fingers through his sandy blonde hair and flashed a grin.

She punched him in the shoulder. After she took her tea from him. “Thanks for this.”

“Not a problem. Were you wrestling demons in your sleep?” Hefler squeezed into the bunk next to her.

“Not demons. Nightmares. Or something like them. They aren’t your normal dreams.” She sipped the tea. The herbal tea, native to Korria, washed over her tongue. “How did I get back here? And in my bed?”

“You don’t remember?”

“You think I’d ask if I remembered? You think I’d open myself up to your infernal teasing like that?”

Hefler grinned and nudged her with his elbow. “So, what happened last night? And don’t think I didn’t notice that you lost your boots. Again.”

Daezin scowled. “You first. Tell me how I got back in my bed and I’ll tell you what happened after I left.”

“No. You first.” Hefler stuck his tongue out at her.

Daezin retaliated by tickling him. And thus began the Great Tickle War 5002. By the end, they were both panting and smiling.

“Thanks. I needed that.” Daezin rolled onto her side and met Hefler’s gaze. “Seriously. I need to know how I got home last night. Tell me and I’ll tell you what happened after I left here last night.”

Hefler studied her for a moment and the smile left his face. “All right, sis. I heard a knock on the door and found you passed out on the ground outside the wagon. I brought you in. By the way, you might consider cutting down on the sweets. You’re getting a mite heavy.”

“Hefler.”

He put his open hand up between them. “Sorry. I thought you were drunk and had passed out before making it inside. And I had to carry you. All by myself. Without any help from you. You were dead to the world.”

Daezin shivered. She had come so close to making that true. “So you didn’t see a man outside the wagon?”

“A man? Sis, you naughty minx.” Hefler waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Stop.” Daezin slapped his arm lightly. She still didn’t know what her rescuer looked like. Or more worrisome, how he knew where to drop her off after the rescue.

Fingers snapped in front of her nose. “Hello? Are you awake in there?”

“What?”

“You were suppose to tell me about last night. Instead you appeared to have left the wagon.” A mix of concern and annoyance colored his voice.

“I’m sorry. Just a lot has gone on and I don’t know what to think of it.”

“Tell me what happened and you won’t have to be the only one thinking on it.”

So she told him. Everything from the dice game — leaving out exactly how much she lost — to the disk of fancy metal the men passed between them. From the adventure out on the river — Hefler laughed at the dog and the boots — to her capture by Vigesh. The bald Lord and the native magician drew a frown from her audience and his face went still when she described her blindness. Daezin finished up the story by describing her so-called rescuer — leaving out how good he smelled. “And the last thing I remember is being carried somewhere by him.”

We were both silent for a while. Noises of the city awoke with the sunrise. Vendors peddled their wares, animals lowed on their drive to the slaughter yards, housewives tramped out for the morning bread; people got up and went about their day. Their normal, everyday day.

“But how did he knew where to bring me? Does he know I am Madame Idzina?”

Hefler stood up and pulled Daezin to her feet in the cramped aisle in the middle of the wagon. “The solution to that is simple. We leave. I packed up last night and we can leave now or after breakfast. Your choice.”

“Breakfast did sound good. And it be a shame not to have another pastry before hitting the road. And nothing bad could happen this early in the morning. Right?”

A month later they rolled into Corethe, dustier and richer. Not rich but richer. Villagers didn’t have much coin. No one followed them, that they could see. It only took three weeks before Daezin could relax and not expect to find a long-haired, tattoo-plastered, skinny elderly man behind her.

The odd dreams persisted. Hefler took to sleeping under the wagon. He complained that Daezin made too much noise while she slept. She stayed up late reading by candlelight; anything to avoid sleeping and the dreams. When they arrived in Corethe, dark circles shadowed her eyes. And concentrating during sessions with clients? Forget about it. They were lucky that provincials were so easily gulled. Or they might have been starving by the time they rolled through the gates of Corethe.

Hefler drove and Daezin sat on the seat next to him and let her chin rest against her chest, hat low on her head. The wagon rocked as it moved through the streets and Daezin drifted off.

...The sky darkens and lightning rips across the shadows and hits a tree, bare branches reach upward and explode into flame...

...A tattooed face is lit by a flickering blue light from a wooden bowl. The light flares bright and dims...

“We’re here.” Hefler spoke quietly but it was enough to jerk Daezin from the dreams.

“Thanks.” The inn yard of The Swaying Goose was their favorite place to stay in Corethe. With the winter storms coming they preferred to sleep in a real building with a real roof instead of their wagon. They parked their wagon behind the stables, parked their horses inside it, and they planned to park their heads on the finest beds the innkeeper had.

“Why don’t you go in and arrange our rooms with Tyrel? I’ll take care of the wagon.” Daezin wasn’t quite up to dealing with people yet.

“Are you sure? You aren’t the most handy of people. You might drop something on your foot, or hit your head, or be kicked by a horse, or...”

“Shut up. I’ve got this. Go.” Daezin pointed to the door, then got down and led the horses behind the stable. Being extra careful because everything Hefler mentioned, she had done. Sigh. Daezin wished she could fake coordination as well as she could fake visions.

A cart and a farmer’s wagon were already parked behind the stables. The horses pulled their brightly colored box wagon as close to the others as she could manage. As good as it could get, she unhitched the horses and led them around to the weathered stable doors and into the warm darkness inside. The chill in the air was getting more pronounced, especially as the sun got nearer to setting.

After settling the horses in for the night and instructing the stableman, who was more grandpa than boy, to feed them an extra treat after all their hard work, she headed back to the wagon for her book. They would unload the rest of the wagon tomorrow. For tonight, she needed a hot bath and hot tea. She’d worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.

“Bout time you got here.”

Daezin squealed. Yep. Squealed. High and girly. I have the reflexes of a cat. A scaredy cat that is.

“Who are you?”

The man who lounged against the outside wall of the stable had dark green eyes, dark hair—somewhere between brown and black, and a very nice face. His body wasn’t bad either. She stiffened knees gone a bit wobbly. Daezin had been suckered by a pretty face before. It wouldn't happen again.

“Wait. Do I know you? You look familiar.” With his looks, I’d definitely remember him.

“You’ve been having bad dreams.” His voice had the slightest of accents. A very familiar accent.

“Who are you?”

“I’ve got something that can help with the dreams.” He said.

“Quite the line there, sir.” She teased and he blushed. That’s when it hit me. “Aetran? Is that you?”

Surprise flashed across his face. “How do you know my name?” His entire body tensed up and his face closed down.

“We... I... We’re both from Rannon.”

“Daezin? Wow. I haven’t thought of Rannon in... Well, a long time. When you left, well let’s just say not much else was talked about for a long time.”

Daezin didn't care to relive why she had left, although she was curious what story the gossips shared after she left. But she didn't want to know enough to rehash it all now. Or ever.

“Your wife? Is she here too?” Daezin said.

Aetran’s face closed down so fast it was like having a door slammed in her face. “I’m here to help you with your dreams.”

“My dreams? How do you know about them?” Shock trembled in her voice.

“Sis? You fall down and break something? Again?” Hefler rounded the corner. When she turned back around Aetran was gone.

“Weird.” Daezin ran to the back corner of the stables. Still nothing.

“What’s weird?” Hefler came up beside Daezin, slung an arm over her shoulders, and gave her a look that said you.

She poked him in his side. “Aetran. He was here and he seemed to know about my bad dreams.”

“Really? Someone knows about your extremely loud and persistent nightmares?" He grinned. "Who’s Aetran?” Hefler turned back to the wagon and started unloading supplies for the night.

“He’s someone I knew before.” Hefler knew before meant anything that happened before she left home. Hefler knew a lot of the story and probably guessed most of the rest.

He nodded. “And now he’s here? And he knows about the dreams?”

“Yes. And supposedly he knows a way to help me with them. But I guess he’s shy.”

“Well, I am pretty intimidating.” Hefler puffed up his skinny chest and tugged down the sleeves of his shirt.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.” There was more going on here than just an old neighbor finding her in a city far from home. A home that went up in flames and is currently occupied by the Charkneth Empire.

Later that night, warm water soaked into her skin and Daezin washed away the dirt from the road. A soft noise came from the other side of the screen.

“Hefler?”

No answer. Daezin listened but the noise didn’t repeat. She went back to her bath.

Finished, she exited the half-cask, wrapped a length of toweling around her body, and stepped around the screen. There on top of the pile of clean clothes lay a folded piece of paper. Daezin picked it up and read:

Wear this against your skin and the dreams won’t bother you anymore.

Underneath it lay a lavender crystal the length of her thumb, wrapped in a dark leather thong.

“Huh.” A crystal to stop the nightmares? She didn't think so.

The dreams invaded fast and furious that night. One after the other images flooded her mind. She fought her way free and stared at the flecks of glowing red left in the fireplace for what seemed like hours. Book or crystal. Book or crystal. The words repeated themselves over and over again.

Fine. She'd try the crystal, but no way would she tell Hefler. Feeling silly, Daezin slipped the thong over her head and let the crystal dangle under her shirt. As soon it touched her skin, it warmed pleasantly. Feeling very silly and a little nervous of what she would see in the dreams this time, she closed her eyes.