The Lost Knight (Volume III) The Lost World

Chapter 4: Tiny Dots & Colorful Lines

The Latuus birds sing and fly across my ceiling. I roll onto my stomach. A pegasus nose crashes down on the pillow I just occupied.

"I'm awake," I croak into the pillow so Lenox won't try to bash me again. He stands guard until I roll back over and scratch his ears. He turns his head so I can reach where he wants and purrs loudly. Once satisfied, he walks out the door.

"Good morning," Albína chirps as she enters. "Get dressed. We have to go right to the Temple. Sleep well?"

"Yeah. I had the craziest dreams. I wish I could remember them now, but holy cow, they were weird. How's Dathid?"

"I don't know. I'm sure when you get to the Temple they'll have an update on how he fares," she says as she ushers me out of bed.

I'm glad for the long stroll across the castle. I'm dreading going back to the little room with all its pressure and expectations. I'm not sure which is worse: having the Orb not work or having the Orb work fine and not understanding what it's showing me.

Sarpedon, Jonah, and Gurador are eating breakfast and speaking in Naga-Nuru. I pull up a chair and join them.

"How's Dathid?" I ask.

"He's doing well. Deep wound, but it missed everything important," Jonah answers. "He should be joining us shortly. How'd you sleep?"

"I had some strange dreams."

"What were you dreaming?" Sarpedon asks.

"I can't remember now. Flying over stuff, strange stuff, but nothing I can recall."

"The Orb may have been talking to you while you slept," Sarpedon offers. "Meditate on it as the morning progresses and see if any details come back to you."

He turns his attention back to Jonah and continues their conversation in English for my benefit, but I don't know the people they're discussing, so I eat my breakfast and concentrate on trying to recollect my elusive dreams.

A pale Dathid hobbles in. "I feel like a drakanon stampeded over me last night," he says as he takes a seat in a reclining chair and closes his eyes.

"All good?" Jonah asks.

"Yeah," he mutters. "The healer says I should be up and about in a few days."

"Welcome back, Your Highness," Gurador says with a bow.

"Some welcome. I hadn't even unpacked before I was stabbed."

Guilt weighs heavily on my chest. I'm almost certain that elf was aiming for me. Dathid being the one who was injured can't be good for the already strained relationship between the elves and faeries.

I want to talk to him about it, but I don't want to bother him. Instead, I sit down in front of the Orb for the second day. I'm discouraged and embarrassed that I can't make sense of what I'm seeing. I silently pray that I'll see something soon. Everyone is depending on me, and I'm failing miserably.

As I peer into the Orb, the bright light that shows me nothing is back. My disappointment and anxiety threaten to turn me inside out. It's going to be a long day. "Do we have any potato chips or anything?"

"You just ate," Jonah says, surprised that I'm still hungry.

"I know. I just want a little something to snack on."

"I'll see what I can do," Gurador offers.

It's another long day of alternating staring into the light and then resting my eyes. Gurador finds some salty biscuits, and that helps keep the nausea away. Jonah's across from me, encouraging me, and by the time the midday meal arrives, the brown dots and lines are back.