“But what does that mean? You must know something that can help me find her.”
Isobel’s smile was sadder than tears would have been. “And you must understand, Zee, that anything my father said to me was long, long ago and that . . .” She paused. “Did Vivian tell you? About what happened to my mind?”
Landon trapped her restless hand in both of his, raised it to his lips.
“So much is lost,” she said, with a sigh. “It comes to me, like this, in phrases remembered but not understood.”
“Forgive me, if this is painful,” Zee said. “But your mother was Jehenna?”
“Yes, and my father, as you know, was a Dreamshifter. And much evil did befall.”
“He and your mother are both dead—”
“But the Key is in play,” Isobel said. She rubbed her forehead like a fretful child, her brow furrowed in concentration. “It’s a very powerful object. Jehenna thought it would open the Gates for her, but it did not. There are prophecies of doom and destruction connected to the finding of the Key.”
“Jehenna said she wouldn’t need the dragon blood anymore,” Landon said. “That she would live forever. And then, in the end, she came running back saying it was the wrong key.”
“Somebody believes otherwise. Somebody with enough power that she can’t be new to the game.”
“Hanging out in the background then,” Landon said, “smart enough to bide her time, wait her chance.”
Powerful enough to venture into Wakeworld and transform herself into an old hag. Crafty enough to borrow Vivian’s shape, to know how to tempt Zee with his own desires. “But the question remains—what is the Key for? What does it open? If I know this, maybe I can find this sorceress and stop her before she acts.”
“It was made by the giants, it is said. Back in the mists of time.”
“Why?”
“To lock the doors and preserve the balance. There was a falling-out between the dragons and the first Dreamshifter, Allel. Their war threatened to destroy all of the Dreamworlds and the Wakeworld. In that time the giants alone had discovered the way to leave their world and walk in the Between; they had deep secret knowledge and took it upon themselves to correct the balance. The Gates were locked with a spell so that even the Key cannot open it until wielded by the hands of one in whom dragon, Dreamshifter, and sorcerer are joined together.”
“But if that’s true—then whoever this is who stole the Key won’t be able to open the Gates . . .”
“Unless she’s figured something out. Like the pendant. Could she have come by skin and hair and maybe even blood?”
Zee went cold, remembering the marks of the chain around Vivian’s neck. The scratches on the backs of her hands. He nodded. “She could have all of these things.”
“Well then—if she knows magic, she could work any number of spells.” Isobel pressed the back of her hand to her lips, and Landon put a hand on her shoulder.
“She’ll be all right, my love. She is strong.”
“I saw a giant on the way here,” Zee said. “Dead. Alongside the body of a dragon. Are they at war?”
Isobel and Landon exchanged glances, before the Prince answered, slowly, “The envoys. I’d wondered.”
“What envoys?” Zee demanded.
“We sent messages to the giants and to the dragons, seeking a meeting to discuss the best interests of all. There was no response.”
Isobel’s brow puckered, and again she rubbed the scars on her forearm as though something itched. “And yet, although there was no response to our overture, the giants have been drawn to Surmise in greater numbers within the last few weeks.”
“They are healers,” Landon said, but there was uncertainty in his voice. “They offer no threats of violence.”
“It is the timing I don’t like. So many of them coming here, where the Key was found. If they know—then the company of the sorcieri will also know.”
“With all due respect, this is all riddles and guessery and not much help.” Zee’s voice was sharper than he’d meant. Fear was an unaccustomed feeling, one that made him itch for an opponent he could fight. Give him a dragon or even a giant and he could accomplish something. This business of sitting around with insufficient information and trying to guess what was going on made him want to break things.
Landon gave him a look of sympathy, and Zee remembered that this man had stood by, helpless, for a hundred years while his love was caught in a morass of madness, far beyond his reach to help her. “Neither of us has the power to open or close the dream doors. We can’t help you find Vivian or get back to Wakeworld.”
“I may be able to help you find the lost Gates,” Isobel said, “although I don’t know what you will do should you get there.” Eyes still closed, her movements detached as if someone else were in control of her body, she pulled a small dagger from her pocket and freed it of its sheath. Both men, conscious of the marks of scars on her arms, held their breath, waiting to see what she would do. Sinking down on her knees, she carved a line into the turf. This she intersected with another line, and then another. Zee watched, marveling, as her delicate hands cut away the grass to form an intricate maze, a complex tangle that twisted and turned in on itself.
At last she traced a path from one side to the other with the tip of the dagger, murmuring, in a voice so low Zee bent down to hear, “Let the one who seeks the Forever take care to walk true and not stray, for one misstep may lead to torment and dreams beyond the reach of death. Here is Surmise. Here lies the Cave of Dreams.” Tracing another path, she stabbed the dagger into the earth and left it there. “And here are the Black Gates, that bar the way into the Forever.”
Her eyes opened and she blinked three times, looked down at the image she had made, and then up at the men. “What is it?” she asked, her voice edged with fear. “What have I done?”
Landon held out his hands to her and helped her rise, drawing her close and holding her against him, smoothing her hair as though she were a frightened child. “You’ve drawn a map. Did you not know?”
She shook her head, her face buried against his chest. “I don’t remember. I’m scared, Landon. There was something—” She shivered, and he drew her closer.
“A glass of wine for you,” he said, “and then a chance to rest.” His eyes over the top of her head dared Zee to say a word.
But Isobel pulled away a little at that, and smiled for them both, though her face was deathly pale. “I am well, my love; the madness will not come to me again.” She bent and looked at her handiwork. “It makes me dizzy. Are you able to read it?”
Zee nodded. “You explained it. I think so. If the two of you don’t mind, I’ll stay here a little.”
“Take as much time as you need,” Landon said. “There will be a hot meal and a bath for you in your room whenever you are ready. And the healers will do what they can for your hurts.”
Isobel uttered a small cry of distress at that. “We should have tended to that already. Forgive us, Zee, we were worried about Vivian . . .”
“As am I. This was the greatest of my needs, and I thank you.” He tried to smile, but the hurts that most needed tending lay beyond the skill of any healer, and his heart was a weight in his chest.
Out of respect, he waited until they were out of sight. Then he knelt on the cool grass and retraced the paths of the maze with a finger, over and over again, engraving the map on both his brain and his heart.
When he could trace it blind, eyes closed, without hesitation, he stretched out the muscles cramped from bending over the earth and retraced his steps to the castle.