7. The Dream Demon

Now Litam was a practical sort of mouse. He believed in magic because he saw it used almost every day. He was even willing to pretend that Letimpra was real; that was the only explanation he had been given for the so-called Unholy Stone in the sole of his boot.

But to stand here, feeling as if he'd barely moved from King Nikros' palace, and to be told that Mitaria was so far away that walking for the rest of his life wouldn't get him back there?

Of course, there was living proof right in front of him. Skenleth was dressed in some decidedly foreign clothing. Everything on him was made of the skins of small wildes, sewn together in a patchwork of coloured fur. He had a sack made of leather, tightly bound shut with rope, slung over his left shoulder and dangling behind his back. Even his eyes seemed strange to Litam; they were blue, unlike the eyes of any beasts he had met before.

At his waist were a curved flint dagger and a length of rope wound around a hook—a wilde's claw—embedded in his jacket. Nothing on him was manufactured or dyed or metal. Even the ropes on his sack and waist were thus: they looked to be made of woven straw.

Definitely not Mitarian.

Skenleth said something to Lanyur, who nodded. They conversed again, Lanyur doing the majority of the talking this time.

He says that we're welcome to stay in the village for the night. But he also tells me that today is a local holy day and that because we are outlanders, we cannot enter their temple tonight.

What is the occasion? Briole asked.

The Dream Solstice. Dream Magic is at its strongest tonight, and Nightmare Magic at its weakest. He was very—Yes, I'm telling them; ja, a dibźe tðam. He was very adamant about our staying out of the temple. It's pretty much his only proviso.

I think we can make do without attending services, Litam said, thankful they didn't want him to visit the priest.

The village was far different from those in Mitaria. Whereas towns back home were built from stone and wood, the ones in Tsesanne looked to follow a completely different set of rules. All the structures here were either made with wilde skins or grown out of giant ferns. Nothing had corners, and in place of a town square there was a complicated arrangement of live trees, grasses, flowers and bushes with the sole purpose of collecting rain and dew in a reservoir.

Skenleth led them to a structure made of several huge ferns. Inside, there were mountains of wilde pelts. The fox, with the help of Lanyur, asked if it would be acceptable. Nobody had any complaints. He nodded and left hastily.

The sun had set by now and the moon, bright and full, illuminated the inside of the room with a pale light, tinted green by the leaves that gave it form. Each of the four beasts staked out a corner.

Litam buried himself in a sea of fur, and dove into thought. Koshos curled up next to the door and was asleep quickly.

Briole nuzzled Lanyur before they moved to opposite sides of the room, Lanyur facing the wall. Briole huffed and closed his eyes.

It was unspoken but agreed upon. This was Selassei's country, so they were going to find her and warn her. Unlike the king of Mitaria, she would surely pay attention. But was she even real? Or was this celestial empress just a beast, one in a long line of impersonators?

Litam had more than a little doubt. Lanyur and Briole were firmly convinced, and Koshos hadn't voiced any complaints.

He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but found that he was being kept awake. Somebody was saying something.

Briole, Lanyur was whispering, get up!

What is it? he mumbled.

At the convent, they never told us about any dream solstice. I want to go see what it is.

Should we wake the others? Briole asked. Litam snapped his eyes shut as Briole's gaze passed over him.

Lanyur shook her head. I don't want to get them worked up to satisfy my curiosity, but I also don't want to go alone.

Alright, I'll come with you… Briole sighed. Litam opened one eye a crack and saw the two getting up to leave.

The leaf serving as a door refused to budge. Briole bit down on it and the entire fern fled to the side. The pair moved through and the plant returned to its vigil.

Litam's suspicions got the best of him. He waited a moment before following.

What can you see? Lanyur asked anxiously. What's going on?

Briole peered between two pelts, into the temple. He almost had to crouch to do it. The priest was addressing the crowd, but Briole couldn't make out the words. As he watched, a pitch-black cub, kicking and screaming, was brought to the priest. He scowled, and the cub squeaked at him angrily. Briole turned pale. The cub was in danger, he was sure of it.

He told Lanyur what he saw. Her eyes widened.

Litam was hiding behind a boulder, peering over the edge, keeping his distance. The two beasts were quickly moving back toward their hut. Litam joined them.

What is it? What's going on? he asked.

Briole told Litam what he had seen and what he suspected.

No wonder they want to keep us out of there, Litam snarled, with wrinkled nose and flattened ears. They're killers.

Indeed, Lanyur said, entering the fern hut. Koshos! Wake up!

They broke into a trot, Koshos raising her fists, the others finding things on the ground to use as weapons: branches, a discarded rib from a large wilde (or, it now seemed likely, an unfortunate beast).

Koshos tore right through the leathery wall of the temple, knocking the priest over and shocking the entire congregation. Litam followed, grabbing the cub and pulling him off to the side. Briole waved his makeshift quarterstaff, daring anyone to attack him.

Skenleth started shouting loudly.

Litam, drop him, he's— Lanyur started to translate, but she was too slow.

A wide, sharp-toothed, malignant grin spread across the cub's face. His eyes glowed as if they were embers. He laughed, a wicked, cruel, menacing belly laugh. Then he spoke. His mouth did not move to voice the words, but they echoed in Litam's head.

You're mine! was all it was, and he swiped at the mouse with a bony, clawed paw. The points traced fire across Litam's muzzle and he leapt back with a yelp.

Koshos growled and slashed at the cub with her sword. It passed right through him and he hissed, growing larger.

Yes, try to harm me! I feed off your fear and your anger! the cub cackled, lunging for Koshos' throat with teeth bared. She backpedaled out of the way.

He isn't a cub, he's a dream demon! He's responsible for nightmares! They banish him every dream solstice and he returns the next! Lanyur shouted.

And thanks to you, I will never be banished again! the demon roared with glee. He whirled around to face Briole. With a yell, he pounced.

Briole tripped backward, and held his paws over his face. Thanks to you… thank you, demon! he cried out, trying the first idea that came to mind.

The dream demon stopped instantly in midair, looking at the squirrel blankly. What?

Briole thought quickly. Thanks to your work, these people know they live well. He stood up, taking a step toward the demon. You show them what it could be like!

I do that? answered the demon cautiously, sinking to the ground.

Yes! And you inspire them to fight their fears. You should be proud! Litam added.

The dream demon shrank away from Litam. Really? he asked, horror washing over his face.

Lanyur moved toward the demon as she shouted out: Mersis ya der dévox, mínt! Then, she too thanked the creature.

The crowd erupted in chatter, all directed at the demon, all (Lanyur said later) forms of gratitude. The demon was getting pale. Finally, he cried out.

In giving them terror, I am showing them joy! I am my own defeat! I cannot continue, knowing this truth! he buried his cherubic face in miniature paws. He screamed, a hollow, desperate, agonized cry, and in a flash of light was gone. Litam wondered if he had really been there. His nose started to sting again and he knew it had been real.

The congregation was silent. Then they roared and cheered and made a great fuss.

Ingenious. Lanyur winked at Briole.

Stupid, he offered.

That too, she grinned, turning away.

Once the who and the what and the how had been figured out and the elated villagers had calmed down, all went quiet as sleep swept over the village.

Litam was in the middle of one of the nicest dreams he'd ever had when, quite rudely, he was awoken by a shrill yell. He rushed out of the hut.

Hovering just above the horizon was a dull, faintly glowing brownish disk, a used and cooling coal in a darkened morning sky.

The Sun Spirit was dead.

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