Chapter 26 - The Return

[dreamingstory]

26

The Return

Wind whipped across the desolate plains. Tall stalks of dry grass bowed and rippled under the force of the sky, accented by bouncing tufts of wild cotton. Far off on the northern horizon, a few trees were still visible. To the east and south, distant mountains stood like hard-edged clouds, only visible as silhouettes through the dusty air. Like ghostly sentinels, they appeared to guard the sacred place.

As far as the actual plains extended, there was very little to see save for the great grey monoliths. Each of the ten pillars of stone was ten times the height of a man. They must have once been arranged in a circle, but time had slowly drawn them into a more abstract shape. Several were leaning off in odd directions. One had tumbled onto the ground eons ago and lay there awkwardly like a fallen comrade. It was alongside this enormous rock that Zibby and Danny had pitched their shelter.

Zibby laid a hand on the fallen monolith. It was rough and cool to the touch. She felt as though it was an old friend.

“This was Master Samuel’s favorite place, wasn’t it?” The wailing sound of the wind dampened her voice. It was easy to feel tiny here in the middle of the long, flat grassland. The blocks of stone reminded her of the miniature structures she used to build out of river stones as a child. Of course, it would have taken an enormous child to build this odd formation.

“I think so,” Daniel said. “He used to tell me that one of the very first Dreamers made this place, long before any of us.”

“I’d believe it,” Zibby said, trying to project her voice through the blustery air. “I haven’t met a giant yet that could have picked up one of these.” Trailing her fingers on the rock, she lowered herself to a crouch. Daniel sat opposite her. It was too windy for a fire today. They would have to make do with a few blankets and their own body heat.

“I miss him,” Daniel said, speaking loudly. It seemed awkward, as though the words were meant to be whispered in a forest rather than shouted over the strong winds.

Zibby nodded in agreement, not wanting to battle the noise. Daniel seemed to understand.

Unwilling to speak anymore, Zibby reached into a leather pouch that hung from her belt. She pulled out a small, worn-looking chunk of cloudy crystal and turned it around in her hands.

It was three years ago and then some. It had been springtime, and the plains had rippled with life, mellow green instead of dry and brown. Dandelion stalks had shot up around the bases of the stones. Zibby remembered the way the big brown, lean-looking rabbits had bolted across the meadows with every step the trio took. It had been beautiful then.

Both Zibby and Danny looked much like they had the last time they had visited this place. Daniel kept his hair a bit longer now. It curled gently where it met the nape of his neck and barely touched his shoulders. His chilly eyes, icy sapphire with a ring of midnight blue, watched the rock in Zibby’s hand. When a surface of the crystal caught the setting sun, it flashed gold.

He was tall and strong, but his fair skin lent a slightly delicate appearance to him nonetheless. Low eyebrows seemed to keep the radiant sparkle of his eyes in check, and his eyelashes were thick and dark. He had a straight, regal-looking nose and lips that were slightly feminine. Zibby wouldn’t have said it aloud, but she thought her childhood accomplice had grown up into a handsome young man.

He wore a newer set of clothes, fashioned of indigo-colored cloth that was smooth and soft to the touch. Two layers of tunic were belted just above his hips. The inner layer was ivory muslin; the outer was dyed indigo and formed a “v” shape across his chest. His brown pants were tucked into the tops of brown leather boots.

Zibby still looked a little childish. She had big, searching eyes of the palest green hue and often wore an expression of anticipation. She had richly tan skin that shimmered a little in the right kinds of light. She was more boyish than Daniel in some ways; there was something slightly awkward about the way her hips moved when she walked. Nevertheless, she had grown up to be pretty in her own way. Her hair, straight and shoulder-length, glistened copper in the light of the far-off sun.

Across her face, three pinkish-red lines were just visible, scars of long-past battle. On each slender wrist was a thick, cuff-like bracelet that appeared to be solid gold. Faintly, strange letters of a foreign script were visible on the golden bands, etched in hair-thin strokes. Otherwise, the girl was dressed in the same manner as she had been for years. The short leather top, accented with discolored silver chains, pressed in tight on her breasts. Wrapped around her waist and looking somewhat like a skirt, the faded pink tartan reflected the rose-hued clouds in the west. The sun wasn’t quite ready to set, but it would be soon.

Daniel’s eyes flicked from Zibby’s restless fingers to her face. He half-expected to see tears there. Instead of sad, her face looked tired. Her soft pink lips were pressed closed against the wind. Fluttering in the breeze behind her shoulders, a pair of grayish dragonfly wings pressed hard against the stone every time the wind pummeled them. The girl didn’t seem to mind.

Folding his own snowy wings against his back so they would not catch the wind, Daniel edged closer to Zibby until they were shoulder to shoulder. He reached out and gently pried the hunk of crystal from her tan fingers. He looked at it for a moment, then leaned over until his lips nearly touched the girl’s slightly pointed ear. “Shame it’s not what it’s supposed to be,” he said. Zibby could hear him clearly now. She turned her head and spoke near Daniel’s own pale seashell of an ear.

“It’s a shame Master Samuel didn’t know that. He would have known what to do next.”

Daniel nodded, feeling Zibby’s eyes on his face again. It had been such a terrible event. He didn’t really like thinking about it. For a moment, he thought heard a snarl. He could picture them clearly - the bony, dog-like creatures, their exposed ribs expanding and contracting with every raspy breath. His heart jumped in his chest and he willed it to calm down again. The only thing he could really hear was the sound of the wind howling against the rocks.

Taking one last glance at the crystal’s pointed end, Daniel lifted the flap of Zibby’s leather pouch and tucked the memento away. The wind seemed like it was starting to calm down. It always did in the evening.

“I’m ready to start looking for it again, Danny,” Zibby said. Her voice was stronger now than it had been a few moments ago. “We need to find the real Dreamseed.”

Daniel was surprised. They hadn’t spoken about the quest for the Dreamseed since the day Master Samuel had died. He had thought about it plenty, and he was sure Zibby had too. Years ago, the Prophecy had been like an animal to be chased - a fish that gleamed under the surface of a brook while they ran along beside it - or maybe a mysterious bird that fluttered from branch to branch as they climbed higher up the tree of learning and understanding.

The bird had fallen dead with Samuel. Although still beautiful to them, the Prophecy was untouchable. It was sacred now. For Zibby to say that she wanted to find it…well, it was as though she had found the bird’s bones. In his mind, Daniel saw Zibby throwing the tiny white skeleton into the air, urging it to fly again. Yes, that was certainly what it felt like.

“I don’t think we can do it without him, Zibby-cat.” Daniel noted the way his light forearm touched her dark one as they sat side by side. He brushed her knuckles with the backs of his fingernails. Her slender fingers seemed to shift closer. “I don’t think we understand Dreams like he did.”

The wind came hard in another strong gust. They huddled instinctively closer together. The two hands clasped without waiting for permission. Zibby tilted her head to look into Daniel’s face. His cheeks and lips were slightly flushed.

“I think we understand more than anyone else,” she said. She could hardly hear herself over the wind. Daniel seemed comprehend her words and was mulling them over in his head.

“If we don’t go after the Dreamseed, who will?” She tried again, her eyes welling with unbidden tears. The wind carried them away. She was grateful for it.

“Do you really think we can do it?” Daniel said, once again fighting to be heard over the wind.

“I think we have to,” Zibby shouted. “I think it’s what we’re meant to do.”

There were a million things Daniel wanted to say. Part of him wanted to say yes, a thousand times yes. It had been a wonderful feeling when they were learning and searching, a mixture of passion and purpose. Part of him wanted to say no, and good riddance. Being ridiculed and opposed was not his idea of a good time. And part of him…part of him wanted so badly just to kiss her, right now, while her eyes were filled with that desperate fervor.

“It could be really dangerous, Zibby,” Daniel warned. His voice had lowered to almost a whisper. The wind was letting up again.

“I don’t care, Danny-boy.” She stared hard at him. “It’s just…right, isn’t it? We have to do what’s right.” Zibby’s lips were parted now, her eyes wide. She looked so intently at him, Danny thought he might explode with the force of her gaze.

Daniel lifted one hand to the girl’s chin. He leaned in closer to her, and their lips met. She tasted like honeysuckles and smelled like strawberries. It was wonderful. He pulled away from the kiss and looked into her eyes. There was a smile there, and also something like wanting. He kissed her again, more aggressively. She kissed him back. Danny closed his eyes and the whole world disappeared - the wind, the rocks, the desolate plains. Her body and his existed, together and warm, and that was all.

Her tongue gently flicked Daniel’s upper lip. He felt himself grin and pushed closer to her, wanting to touch her shoulders, her neck, and the small of her back. He snaked his arms around her waist and lowered her slowly to the ground. She made a little sound that was almost a laugh. He moved to kiss her again, feeling her lithe body pinned beneath his.

To his surprise, Zibby moved away from him, pulling her lips away from his. He looked at her cheek for a moment and ran his fingertips gently over the three neat scars. Searching, his hands found her smooth jaw line, then her warm neck. He leaned down to kiss it.

“Stop it, Danny!”

Danny sat back up quickly, feeling nervous and a little afraid. He touched his own chest where she had shoved him. “Are you…okay?”

Zibby sat back up and hugged her knees to her chest. She looked anxious. “I’m fine.” There was a space between them. It was a space of only an inch or two, but it was like a wall.

“I’m sorry, Zibby,” Daniel said quietly. His heart was pounding in his chest. He passed his fingertips through the invisible wall. Zibby took his hand again. Daniel took a deep breath and let it out. Zibby did the same.

“No, I’m sorry, Danny-boy.” She leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder. The wall cracked and shifted. “Things are just…different now.”

“Yeah,” Danny said, though he didn’t really understand. He didn’t want to talk about it, either. Much had happened in the time that they were apart. She never wanted to tell him where she had been and what she had done. Then again, he kept that year in his own life closely guarded. There were certain things that seemed like they would never be the same between them, even now, after there had been so much time to think and recover.

The wind was little more than a gentle breeze now. Zibby shifted again, this time to lie down, still curled up, with her head on Danny’s thigh. Daniel instinctively placed his hand atop her satiny hair. The wall crumbled to dust. Once again, they were okay. As he let his fingers trace the line of her ear, Danny wondered how long it would last.

One footstep whispered in the dry grass, followed by another. Daniel tensed and looked in the direction of the sound. He saw nothing. The air was dead now. There was simply no other way to think of it. It was completely still. The weather could change quickly here.

Keeping his eyes open wide, Danny continued stroking Zibby’s hair. Was it his imagination, or was there something out there? There couldn’t be. The land was so flat; they would have seen anyone trailing them from miles away. It was impossible. He let his eyes drift down to Zibby, her eyes closed and her hands tucked under his knee. Once he would have said there was no one in the world he understood more. Now, he hardly ever knew what the Faeriel was thinking.

“Death’s finest assistants, sleeping on the job?” The voice was hoarse and sounded old. Danny’s eyes snapped upward.

Zibby was on her feet in an instant, and Danny followed, grasping at the fallen stone monolith at his back for balance. There was a clatter of metal as each grabbed for one of the scythes leaning against the rock, then a slight delay as they realized they held the wrong ones. They switched quickly and saluted, hair messy and tall scythes held perpendicular to the ground. They both panted a little.

Ten feet in front of them, where moments ago there had been no one, a tall man stood. Judging by his wrinkled face and silver hair, he was very old. However, he did not stoop. He stood straight and strong with one wrinkled, vein-crossed hand resting lightly on his hip. There, hanging by a loop in his thick cracked leather belt, was a short-handled reaping scythe. His clothing was plain in appearance and consisted mostly of thick, hand-woven cloth. He smiled at them, showing his gleaming ivory teeth.

“And how are my favorite little minions today?”