Falling Skyward

Chapter Twenty-One: Familiarity

As Lana looked at Dawson, she couldn't help but think of Gailen. Everything Dawson did reminded Lana of her cousin—the quiet, considerate way he spoke and his gentleness with animals.

Maybe that was the reason Lana had so keenly and frighteningly felt the desire to throw her arms around Dawson when they first met. Though Dawson and Gailen looked nothing alike—and though this world reflected little of what she had known before—everything seemed an echo of her previous life. Or was it the other way around?

As Lana tried to untangle the blurring lines of memory in her mind, Taren told Dawson of the previous months, of Lana's home, and their mission.

Taren naturally slipped into a bearing that mirrored Dawson's, his conversational style becoming far more precise, far more solemn than his usual self.

Dawson listened attentively, taking a moment to digest the information before choosing his words diplomatically.

"I am not familiar with the lands you described, though I would trust your knowledge of other lands far more than my own. But I have read of such things in books and in accounts from travelers passing through our kingdom—mostly superstitions or fables—but I don't know what to make of this any more than you. Which leaves me to wonder, why have you come to me?"

"I think you know where we must go next."

"Taren, that's ludicrous. You know Soren is insane—and after what he nearly did to you? How can you go back and beg for help from a man like that?"

"I'll just need to reason with Sor . . ."

"Reason? A man like that does not see reason. His eyes are so blinded by blood, all he sees is bitterness."

"But, he's the only person—the only human—I've met who has mastered traveling between worlds."

"But you know exactly what those journeys cost. How can you justify that?"

"They were torturing a little boy, Dawson. This is something that I cannot turn away from, no matter how much I would like to."

Taren glanced at Lana, and she felt a raw pang of guilt. Taren had warned her the journey would be difficult, and she had stubbornly insisted she would endure anything for Gailen. Though she was out of her depth, she would learn to swim. But, as she listened to the conversation, she realized she would not be the only one to sacrifice in this journey. What was she asking Taren to endure? Could she honestly ask him to lead her through this black unknown?

"You know as well as I do that dreams can be warped, Taren." Dawson grabbed his neck instinctively, clutching at his chest and the thin chain that hung concealed there. "Are you sure these aren't just nightmares being fed by the nightstalkers?"

"I know the dream may have been crafted. But I think what Lana is seeing is . . . different. And an attack of that size on her village, so many nightstalkers concentrated in one area, focused on one goal without turning on one another. My gut tells me there is something more to this picture."

Dawson nodded his head, but his eyebrows remained low. "I know that you have seen far more than I can imagine. You saved me before, and I will not turn my back on you. So, while I do not understand this decision, I trust you. Now tell me, what can I do?"

"I already have enough star ether to barter with Soren. All I need from you, my brother, is another horse and some gear for Lana. I know Lana is a good deal taller, but I thought your sister's old bow and sword would fit her well enough." There was a palatable awkwardness that tinged Taren's words. He continued, "I don't anticipate much of a need for them on our journey, but it will make me easier knowing that someone other than myself is armed."

"Of course you can have a horse," Dawson said, making Lana wonder how much sway he held in the castle. Any horse—let alone a palace horse—was a costly liability to offer so nonchalantly.

"I'll do even better than that," he said, glancing subtly at Lana. "I'll give you an extra sword and the hands to go along with it. I've been cooped up here for far too long. I could use a little adventure."

"But what about your duties?" Taren asked. "Won't you be missed?"

"It's hunting season. The king and half the court are off roaming the countryside, so no one will notice my absence. And, as far as duties go, I feel it is my responsibility to get the horse I'll lend you back safely. You've never been one for coddling when it comes to horses, Taren."

"It's not my fault Bella enjoys a proper gallop. I'm the one to slow her down and keep her in one piece."

"Well, I'm sure I can be of assistance in other ways as well. It would hardly be proper for an attractive lady to travel alone with you, Taren, without supervision." Dawson's formality slipped for a moment, and he gave Lana a teasing smile. Lana's ears tinged pink.

"You always were too much of a stickler for the rules," Taren shot back.

"Well someone had to be, or else you and Atearia would have gotten yourselves thrown off a cliff a long time ago." Dawson laughed, breaking the tension.

"You probably aren't wrong. We were reckless on our own, but together, the two of us were deadly." He turned to Lana, cocking his head at the blush still on her cheeks. "Well," he added, "it looks like we have ourselves a proper caravan."