Dreamstrider Read Online Free PDF Page B

watching me while you and the Commandant discussed the battle plans, so I couldn’t look around nearly as much as I’d like. There wasn’t enough light for me to see her clearly, but she’s definitely from Barstadt—she wore the facial jewels. Silver and sapphire.”
    I wince. “I was afraid of that. Could you make out the design?”
    “Not very well, but we can consult the House registries when we get back to the Ministry. Make a list of which Houses use blue and silver in their heraldry, and suss her out from there.”
    He’s restless, fidgeting like there’s more he wants to say. Whenever he’s not playing a role, he’s terrible at keeping his emotions in check, like the real Brandt he’d been hiding has to come spilling out. The real Brandt—he’s always first to smile, first to laugh; first to share his dreams with me and even his fears. This is the Brandt I can’t help but love, in the locked-up corners of my mind.
    But he is also Master Brandt Strassbourg, the future lord of House Strassbourg. The Ministry is only a playground for him—his father figures it no more dangerous than turning him loose on the gambling houses and ale halls where all the other lords-in-waiting bide their coin and time. One day he’ll claim his title and a bride, and leave me and the Ministry behind. All I can do is cherish my time with him until that day.
    Brandt pats my knee, then hoists himself down to the bottom of the boat. “I imagine we’ll have another busy day tomorrow, following up on these leads. I’m going to get some rest.”
    “Dreamer carry you into slumber in his golden embrace,” I say automatically, though it looks like Brandt’s already well on his way. I smile as he rumbles with a snore.
    I love him, probably more than I have even dared admit to myself, but I can’t keep relying on him—he won’t always be there to pluck me out of a tense situation or salve my wounds.
    The waves catch starlight in their peaks, and the salty air clears my nostrils and my mind as we cross the channel that separates Barstadt from the Land of the Iron Winds. For thirty years, it’s been enough to keep the uneasy peace between Barstadt’s superior navy and the ground-based forces of the Iron Winds as the latter pushed deeper south into their own continent. But now they’re setting their sights northward toward our empire, and one of our own is helping them. I can’t lose myself in thoughts of Brandt. We’ve only uncovered, the first piece of the Commandant’s puzzle—our work has merely begun.
     
     
    Though our dreams are sacred, they are flimsy things, changing colors with the lighting and shifting to match our mood. Sometimes they slip under the bed as soon as I wake, and other times they hang over me throughout the day like a threatening storm. I’ve dreamed enough to know that sometimes there is no sense to their form, and sometimes they are truer than the real world could ever be.
    The Dreamer’s priests say dreams are messages from the Dreamer himself: visions and orders and warnings. I cannot say if this is true. Still, the priests will interpret them for a donation to the temple; shadier folk will give you a different spin for coin. Debates over their interpretation fuel the parlors and ale halls each night as surely as Barstadt ale itself.
    Some dreams, though, even a Barstadter won’t share. Our nightmares—the dreams that frighten us in our very souls—we keep to ourselves.
    I had such a dream that night aboard the gently rocking ship. I don’t dare tell Brandt about it, so I only say I dreamed of the sea. But in truth, I dreamed I was a great bird circling Barstadt City’s harbor. At first I thought I must be a seagull, for the briny air tasted like home and I craved slimy fish scales between my beak. But then I spied a girl on the docks, her limp body spilled across the planks like honey. My cravings changed, and I knew I wanted to pick at her flesh. I swooped down to peck at her—
    The face