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The journey from Noctasia back to the Umbral Court had been swift–and for my part, silent. Draven had given me one strange look, then accepted my reticence.
Now Nightclaw and I walked through the Shadow Gardens, tolerating one another’s presence, each wrapped up in our own separate misery.
I was shaken by my dream.
The woman had looked like my mother Ygraine.
For the span of the dream, I had beenher. I had seen all that she had seen.
All of it had been so very real.
Everything about her had been familiar and true.
My mother’s shimmering waves of hair, like spun gold. Her eyes, wise beyond her years, brimming with secrets.Myeyes.
Secrets I was beginning to realize she had kept from me my entire life.
For if my dream was to be believed, I was not who I thought I was.
I was not even fromwhenI thought I was.
But who would be so great a fool as to believe a single fleeting dream? Especially one as far-fetched as the one I’d had last night.
My mother had not lived one hundred and fifty years ago.Ihad not lived one hundred and fifty years ago.
I was not the daughter of the High King of Valtain.
Such a thing was completely impossible.
I thought of what Rychel had said. How she had known only one other true dreamer. And how she had swiftly changed the subject.
Perhaps because that dreamer was now dead and she did not want to frighten me by telling me of their fate?
Regardless, she was the only person I could think of to ask about any of this.
“Are you training the cat or simply exercising him? He doesn’t require your presence to pace about.” Hawl’s wry voice broke through my reverie.
I spun around, scowling. “Don’t sneak up on us.”
“I only snuck up onyou. The exmoor has been aware of my presence since I entered his domain.” Hawl nodded respectfully at Nightclaw. “Well met, Bellator.”
The exmoor had stopped when I paused. Now he sat down on his hind legs and seemed to incline his head towards the Ursidaur.
I sucked in a breath. “He understood you.”
“Of course, he did.” Hawl shot me a look of unmistakable disdain. “Not a word is said in this creature’s presence without his perfect comprehension. Never fail to remember that.”
It wasn’t that I had taken Nightclaw’s intelligence for granted. I had simply not spent enough time with him. That had to change. He could not simply live alone and neglected in the Shadow Gardens, exchanging one prison for another.
I realized Hawl was holding something. “What is that?”
My eyes widened. “Is that... a saddle?” I glanced at Nightclaw, not bothering to hide my skepticism. “You really think he’ll let you put that thing on him?”
“As I’m not Master Rodrick, I think there are a great many things Nightclaw will permit us to do,” Hawl said mildly. “Besides, I have an inkling about you, Bellator.” He spoke directly to the battlecat. “You cunning cat. You rapacious warrior. You fooled the old fool, didn’t you? And perhaps Prince Tabar, too.”
“Tabar?” I said sharply.
Hawl nodded. “Tabar is the one who brought the exmoor back. Ropes tied to every limb, holding him down as they paraded him through the streets of Noctasia on the bed of a wagon.”
