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The Dream Space

Chapter 74

Azrian decided to see Etienne while the others were at breakfast that morning, as it would give her a chance to enter his mind and coax him awake without being interrupted. When mortals slept, they entered the Halfway Place, but each dreaming mortal had their own area, their own realm where their subconscious was in control and could form anything from nothing. These areas were called Dream Spaces, and to enter another's Dream Space, one had to have incredible magic. One also needed a powerful emotional connection to the owner of the Dream Space - a sense of duty, protection, friendship, love.

Azrian half-suspected that Judith could have entered Etienne's Dream Space, as she seemed pledged to protect him and was a devoted friend. Judith hadn't been able to do it, apparently, and Azrian thought perhaps her love for her friend simply wasn't strong enough . . . or perhaps she wasn't strong enough.

Or perhaps Etienne simply kept Judith out.

When Gallus offered to walk her up to Etienne's room, Azrian welcomed his company, and together, they left the garden and climbed the castle steps. As they were passing down the hall, Azrian noticed Gallus glancing around with a grim expression. "Not happy to be back, are you?" she said sympathetically.

"No," Gallus admitted. His ears flattened against his long black mane. "I failed you, your highness. I swore never to bring her back here --"

"Gallus," Azrian said soothingly. They halted, and she placed a firm paw on the Beauceron's muscular shoulder. She smiled into his eyes and shook her head. "You haven't failed me. Yeneneshe is alive, and she owes that to you."

Gallus slowly smiled, grateful for the comfort. "And to you, your highness. I think the foxes in general owe you a great deal."

"Really?" Azrian said unhappily and turned away.

They continued down the hall, and Beauceron slaves eyed them curiously as they passed. Azrian knew the slaves didn't quite know what to make of her or how to address her, and they were further baffled by Gallus and his devotion and deference. Gallus' behavior seemed to indicate that Azrian was someone very important, but because the other Beaucerons couldn't figure out how important, they avoided her entirely for fear of offending her. Azrian smiled from the depths of her hood: some of them she recognized as the pups who'd worked in the stables when she was masquerading as Donica.

"I didn't save anyone. I screwed up everything, Gallus," Azrian said heavily. "I was sent here to rule, but instead, I let Helene take over, then I let myself get swept away to Skkye. I thought making a new world was the answer, and though virtually _everyone_tried to warn me against it, I did it anyway. And look what happened: earthquakes and misery. And the foxes are more divided from dogs than ever." Azrian laughed tonelessly. "I couldn't have screwed up more had I tried."

There was a long pause as they continued up the hall, and Gallus stared at the narrow blue carpet lining the floor. Eventually, he swallowed and said quietly, "Be that as it may, I know you did one thing right."

Azrian waited, her expression weary.

"You gave me Yeneneshe," Gallus said.

Azrian glanced in surprise at Gallus to find he was smiling. She smiled too.

When they came to Etienne's bedchamber, the dogs guarding it nodded and opened the doors, splitting the face of the roaring lion. Azrian and Gallus passed inside to find the room bright with morning light.

A black fox stood over the immense bed with a worried frown as he examined the comatose king. He was small and thin and boyishly handsome, his mane a wild mess falling around his shoulders. When he saw them, he smiled and straightened up.

"I was just checking on him," the black fox said, almost apologetically, and Azrian saw Gallus shake his head in weary amusement.

"You worry too much, mi sihle," Gallus said to the fox.

"I do," the black fox agreed, and his moon-shaped eyes shifted to Azrian.

Azrian knew the black fox must be Asres, the uncle of Zeinara, the brother of Taiga, the lover of Gallus, and the adopted father of Yeneneshe. She had never met Asres face-to-face before this moment, as Asres had refused to leave Etienne's side and she had refused to come to it. Now their paths were finally crossing as both of them resigned themselves to doing the opposite.

From what Azrian had heard, Asres was a priest of Maret and a great sorcerer who was also gifted with the Sight. Knowing that Etienne had been in his care had alleviated some of Azrian's guilt for not having come sooner. But only some of it.

"Thank you," Azrian said to Asres with sincerity, "for caring for him."

Asres hesitated, and Azrian knew what he was thinking: it was Asres and his goddess who had captured and imprisoned Etienne, blackmailing him into fathering a child on Taiga. What was more, Asres and Etienne had been lovers once. Asres had probably expected Azrian to treat him with jealous hatred and disdain, but she hadn't, and it confused him.

". . . you're welcome," Asres said at last and smiled in relief. "Please . . . bring him back?"

Azrian nodded.

Asres went to Gallus, and looking very happy and content, he took his paw and the two of them left. When the doors had closed behind them, Azrian turned to the bed.

Etienne was as handsome as she remembered, but somehow, he looked tired and pained and even old. Lines were around his mouth and eyes, and Azrian could see a hint of gray in his otherwise golden mane. She drew close to the bed, and after hesitating, she sat on the edge. Etienne was wearing a loose white shirt and the coverlet had been drawn up over his chest. His body was powerful and muscular as before, his jaw square, his lashes long, his golden hair spreading around him like a lion's mane. Azrian noticed his eyelid was shriveled and sinking over his missing eye, and the sight made her incredibly sad. His paws lay limp on his belly, the fingers slightly curled. On his right index finger was a golden ring with an emerald. Azrian smoothed her paw over his and let their fingers tangle. She took a breath and closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, she was standing in fog, in a forest, with sunlight streaming golden through the trees.

Azrian's mouth fell open, and when she tipped her head back to watch a bird fly overhead, her hood fell off, causing the wind to sweep back her long red mane. She recognized the forest. It was Crinnington. Celankobi. It was their forest.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" said a voice.

Azrian looked around and noticed Etienne leaning against a tree. His back was to her and his arms were folded. He appeared younger, happier, and was wearing something similar to what he'd been wearing twenty years before when they first met. His cloak lifted on the breeze as a butterfly drifted by him, bright and yellow and fluttering. When he turned his head, his golden mane lifted back, and Azrian could see he had both eyes.

Etienne turned his face away and looked straight ahead. Azrian came to his side and followed his gaze. She smiled: he was looking out over the cliff where she had first learned to fly. From this vantage point, the trees spread away for an eternity and the river rushed below, winding through the forest in a bright blue streak. Zuu'ma had taught Azrian many lessons here, laughing with her in the sunlight as she fluttered and dipped and eventually fell into the river. Azrian sadly rubbed her arm as the memories flooded her. Her wings were gone. Those lessons seemed so pointless now.

"You could fly if you wanted to," Etienne said quietly, as if he'd read her mind. "You could do anything here. It's the Halfway Place."

"Etienne," Azrian said firmly, "I need you to come with me. I needed you to wake up."

Etienne frowned. He still hadn't looked at her. In fact, he hadn't looked her in the eye once: he was angry.

Azrian dropped her eyes and bit her lip, thinking of what she could possibly say to make him wake up.

"Or you could stay here with me and actually talk to me," Etienne said, his jaw tightening, his angry eyes fixed on a distant point. "Would that be so bloody awful?"

"Your kingdom needs you," Azrian said patiently.

"Bother the kingdom," Etienne snapped, pushing himself away from the tree. He looked at Azrian, and she gasped when one of his eyes disappeared, leaving a frayed, gapping black hole. After only two seconds, however, the eye came back, bright and blue and wreathed in golden lashes, only to fade away again.

"What about you?" Etienne demanded, ignoring Azrian's sad shock. "Do you need me?"

Azrian didn't answer.

Etienne shook his head in disgust and abruptly started down the hill, through the high green grass and ancient trees. Azrian watched as he started to get incredibly far away, his form zipping forward at great speeds and slowing down again, as if someone had sped up time. He was purposely trying to lose her in dreams, and suddenly irritated, she followed him just as quickly.

"Go away, Azrian," Etienne said bitterly.

"Make me," Azrian tauntingly returned.

Etienne tried to speed ahead again, but Azrian grabbed his black tail, and when he raced forward down the hill, she was pulled with him. He stopped under a tree, large and twisted and soaring toward the clouds. Azrian stared up into its branches and slowly recognized it as the tree they had made love under, when they were young and selfish and content to hide together deep in the shadows of the Celankobi.

"Why did you come here?" Etienne demanded, a lick of his golden mane streaking across resent blue eyes. He leaned his shoulder against the tree and folded his arms. "We both know you didn't want to. Anyone else could have come for me. Asres could have. Or Nkwe. If you're at the castle, Nkwe must be with you, right? And Mogethis?"

"No," Azrian said. "Mogethis is dead, and Nkwe is never coming back. He left . . . with your assassin."

Etienne was quiet a long time, his long lashes sweeping down as he stared at the ground. Azrian wanted to comfort him but kept her distance.

"What about . . ." Etienne frowned sadly and lifted his eyes. "Zeinara?"

Azrian smiled. "Safe at the castle. . . . with our son."

Etienne blinked in surprise and pushed himself away from the tree. He abruptly turned his back, and Azrian thought he would flee again, but he only turned his head, and his golden mane swept forward to hide the side of his face, leaving only the tip of his lashes and his black muzzle visible.

"You brought him here?" Etienne asked in a low voice.

"I had no choice," Azrian returned.

"No," Etienne said bitterly, "you had plenty of choices." He faced Azrian, and his face was twisted with anger, the missing eye fading in and out. "You could have told me I had a son to begin with --"

"Etienne --"

"You could have come here like we agreed!" Etienne growled, marching at Azrian until he was standing over her. "But instead you pushed me away! And for what? For some god? Who is he?"

Azrian stared at Etienne, completely baffled. "What are you talking about?"

Etienne's chest heaved. "That dog! The one that was fucking you!"

Azrian sighed. Ah. Etienne had somehow seen Prince Tatuk. She turned her back and walked some feet away, but she could feel Etienne's eyes on her back, could feel his anger like a burn. She bowed her head, and her long red mane lifted on the wind again before dropping lazily against her tail. She felt Etienne's big paw smooth down her mane for her. His fingers were so gentle, so affectionate. She realized in that moment how desperately she had missed his touch, and a shimmering tear formed in the corner of her eye.

"Azrian," Etienne whispered. He frowned. "Don't cry . . . I'm sorry I yelled at you." His paw smoothed lower to rub her back, but it halted when he finally realized she had no wings. "My god," he whispered in astonishment. "What happened!" He took her by the shoulders and turned her around.

Azrian bowed her head and sniffed, not wanting him to see her tears.

"Az," Etienne coaxed gently, "tell me what happened. . . ." His blue eyes widened and he pinched her chin. "Please, darling."

Azrian laughed through her tears. "Why do you have to be so sweet?"

They smiled at each other as they realized: Azrian said the same thing when they first met.

"What happened to you?" Etienne asked with a frown. He cupped her face and wiped her tear away with his thumb. "Tell me who hurt you so I can kill them."

Azrian laughed sadly. "It doesn't matter, Etienne. He's dead." She backed away and used her coat sleeve to wipe her face. Though they were in a dream, she appeared as she did in the real world: she was wearing a bearskin coat and pants, her mane was tangled, and her wings were gone. No doubt her face was lined and tired as well. Her appearance in the Halfway Place said a great deal about how she felt at the moment: she had no desire to reminisce and dream, no desire to look back or be young again. But Etienne appeared as he had twenty years ago, which meant he missed the way they were and wanted it back.

Azrian just wanted to move forward. She could feel Etienne's strong fingers on her shoulders long after he'd released her, and his touch had almost aroused her. Wondering if he could tell, she glanced sheepishly at Etienne and saw he was watching her sadly, his paws at his sides.

"It doesn't matter," Azrian said again, wiping desperately at her eyes. She couldn't make them stop crying and it frustrated her. "What matters is that you n-need to --" Azrian gasped when Etienne's paws closed on the back of her coat and snatched. She felt her coat rip away, revealing her slender, naked back. Etienne's big paws gently pushed her red mane aside and smoothed sadly over her back. A moment later, and Azrian felt wings fluttering against her shoulders. Her wings. She stretched them and folded them and stretched them again, and they were everything she remembered: small and beautiful and glittering in the sun. She laughed like a girl before she could stop herself, and Etienne squeezed her shoulders and kissed her hard on the cheek.

"You gave them back to me," Azrian whispered happily.

Etienne closed his arms around her and held her from behind, letting her small wings curl against his chest. "I can't stand to see you suffer," he confessed. "At least you can always have them here . . . in dreams."

Azrian realized with a jolt that her breasts were bare. She covered them and heard Etienne laugh. His muscular arms squeezed tight around her, anticipating any attempt to escape. He peered over shoulder at the breasts that bulged in her small, embarrassed paws.

"As if I'd never seen them before," Etienne said, taking her paws away. "Mmm. . ." He smoothed his paws under her breasts and cupped them. "They got jolly big after a while, didn't they? I should have known you'd been pregnant."

"I wanted to tell you."

"Why didn't you?" he asked darkly.

"Ettoras was born immortal, Etienne," Azrian answered in exasperation. "His light would have hurt you. I couldn't bring him to you and you couldn't come to see him."

"I could have seen him in dreams, like with you," Etienne said at once.

Azrian shook her head. "No, you couldn't. He wouldn't learn how to walk in dreams for years. And it would've broken your heart knowing your son was so far away, that you could never really hold him or kiss him. It would have broken Ettoras as well." She laughed sadly. "He's so like you."

"We could have figured something out," Etienne insisted. "You could have brought him to me here somehow. It would have been better than nothing."

"Would it?" Azrian asked sadly. "Over the years we met in dreams, but it was never really enough."

". . . I know," Etienne whispered. He suddenly squeezed Azrian tight in his arms. "But now I have you here at Wychowl. And this time, I'm not letting you get away. . ."

"Etienne," Azrian scolded when he planted a warm kiss in her neck. But his paws felt so good on her breasts. He squeezed them and massaged them and moaned in her ear, but she placed her paws over his and stopped him. "You have to wake up."

"In a moment. There's something I found here . . . something you should see." Etienne stepped back, releasing Azrian from his embrace.

Azrian let the tattered remains of her coat fall away. She stood in the wind in nothing but her pants, clutching her paws over her naked breasts. She knew she could conjure a new coat to replace the old one, but Etienne would just tear that one too. And . . . she liked feeling her naked wings against the wind. It was wonderful.

Etienne laughed at Azrian's embarrassment and took her paw in his. "Come on," he said, his voice echoing.

They started through the trees together, paw-in-paw, and it was so beautiful, Azrian never wanted to leave. But she knew they had to leave. The Halfway Place was not for the living. Those who lingered too long always died. There was a reason the living only dreamt a few hours each day.

The forest started waving as if they were underwater, and Azrian realized they were heading deeper into Etienne's subconscious, to places he had probably shut away: bad memories, painful arguments, funerals, accidents. The deeper they traveled, the darker the forest became, and in the distance, Azrian could hear screams. What dark memories were inside Etienne, she wasn't certain she wanted to know. He was King Antony, after all, the warrior dog who led a bloody campaign against her ancestors, who had been reborn again and again and each time left blood and tragedy in his wake. No doubt there were many horrors hidden deep within him.

Eventually, a door appeared, standing between the trees. Light glowed from under it. Azrian hesitated but followed Etienne to the door. He closed his paw on the knob and stopped to look at her.

"Where exactly are we going?" Azrian asked, her voice echoing through the dark forest. She sounded more afraid than she'd meant to, and Etienne touched her cheek to reassure her.

"No place we haven't been before," he answered and opened the door.

Azrian peered inside and went still when she saw two beautiful young vixens arguing. She recognized them immediately: they were Queen Nadheertia and her sister Queen Teshale.