The Singer - Hunter Elizabeth - Страница 43
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“How did you know? Who told you?”
“Evren called me when he found some information he thought you should know. He knew my father, and he trusts me. You really ought to be better about checking your messages, Leo.”
“What—?”
“It has to do with Ava’s father. And… an impossibility that is looking more possible all the time.”
Gabriel had tucked them into his black chauffeured car and hidden Malachi and Leo away in his spacious home. Gabriel, along with being Konrad’s right hand, was a financier in the city and had accumulated more than his share of wealth. They’d left a message for Rhys to meet them there. As much as Malachi distrusted everything around him, Leo was certain that Gabriel was an ally. Max—who seemed to know just about everyone—confirmed it.
Leo called, “Malachi?”
He said nothing. He couldn’t stop the animalistic growl that left his throat. She was out there, and he had no power to help her. He didn’t even know where she was. Every night since he’d realized his dreams were more than dreams, he went to sleep commanding himself to ask her where she was. To tell her that he was alive. Truly alive. And every night, his mind hazed and he could focus only on her. The outside world fell into shadow. His conscious demands drifted away.
The pounding came again.
“Malachi.” It was Gabriel. “Open the door, or I will break it.”
Something in the scribe’s voice told Malachi he wasn’t joking. He opened the door.
Leo and Gabriel stood there, both dressed in pajamas, both with clenched fists.
“What the—”
“She’s in danger.”
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know?”
“I know! We were there, in the dream, and I felt it. Like a shadow surrounding us. Then it came closer. It was searching for her. For Ava.”
“Where?” Gabriel stepped into the room. “Where were you?”
“In the dreams…” The truth tumbled from his lips. “I’ve been dreaming. Well, I thought they were dreams at first, but they’re not.” He held out his arm. “She sings to me and they grow. She’s… healing me. But I can’t talk to her. It’s so—”
“Dreamy?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I could have told you. That’s how the dream walks work.”
“Dream walking?” Leo slapped his forehead and followed Gabriel into Malachi’s room. “Of course! Why didn’t I think of it? She’s his mate! How could I be so stupid?”
“Since you’ve never been mated, it probably wouldn’t be the first thing you thought of.” Gabriel sat on the bench near the foot of the bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “And there was no way of knowing how Malachi’s death would affect their bond. Tell me more details. Well… not all the details. But there might be clues.”
“Are you listening to me?” Malachi said. “She is in danger!”
“And there is absolutely nothing you can do about it,” Gabriel said, rising to his feet. “It’s frustrating, isn’t it? To know that your mate is threatened. To know her fear. Her panic.”
“You have no idea.”
“I have every idea.” The cold words cut through the room, reminding all of them that Gabriel had lost his mate, Tala. Damien had taken her into battle, and she had perished.
Gabriel continued in his chilling voice. “But there’s nothing you can do for her right now. If she was dead, you would feel it.”
“Does it hurt?” The fire went out of Malachi’s belly. The pain twisted in his chest. “When I died, did it hurt her?”
He wasn’t sure whether or not Gabriel would even answer. But the scribe raised his chin and said, “Yes. It hurts. Physically. Emotionally. If she was gravely injured, you would feel it. Not in an incapacitating way, but you would know. Do you feel anything like that?”
“No.”
“Then she was in danger, but the danger has passed. Tell me about your dreams.”
He could feel the heat in his cheeks and Gabriel gave him a knowing look. “We don’t talk much.”
“That’s normal. Most Irin couples who are physically parted don’t spend their dream walks in conversation.”
The three men settled into seats near the fireplace. Clearly, sleep was a memory.
“Why can’t I ask her questions?” Malachi asked. “Every night, I go to sleep, and I tell myself I will ask her where she is. But when the dream starts…”
Gabriel crossed his arms and took a deep breath. “I’ve heard it said by scholars far more intelligent than me that the Forgiven gave Irin mates their ability to dream walk in order to feed the soul. It is not conscious life, though it still feeds us physically. Otherwise, our tactile need for each other when we were separated would become a liability.”
“So even though I’m away from her, I’m still caring for her?” It helped. To know that he was at least doing something.
Gabriel nodded. “She’s probably sleeping better than most widowed mates would. She’d be more calm. Centered. Physically, she will be stronger because of the walks.”
“But why can’t I ask her anything? Why can’t I ask here where she is, like I always tell myself to.”
“You don’t understand. You’re not meeting on a conscious level. Dream walks are your souls speaking to each other. And the soul isn’t concerned about worldly problems. Day-to-day worries never enter into a dream walk. You don’t chat about the children or work. If you’re fighting, your souls would reach for each other more, not less. Dream walks are the place Irin mates connect on the most spiritual level, where your soul reads your mate’s and gives it exactly what it needs. Connection. Comfort. Pleasure. It’s not like a normal conversation.”
“So her soul doesn’t need me to find her?” That couldn’t be correct. He had reached for her even when he didn’t know her name.
“Don’t you see?” Gabriel asked. “Her soul has already found you, Malachi. Within her dreams. Your souls have found each other. It is only your bodies that have not.”
Leo asked, “Do you think she knows they’re more than dreams?”
“Probably not. After all, why would she even consider it?” Gabriel’s voice was rough. “She thinks Malachi is dead. They all do. After Tala died, I dreamed of her almost every night. For years. I knew it wasn’t the same because I’d experienced dream walking, so I knew the difference. Ava does not. She probably thinks her walks with Malachi are only that. Very vivid dreams.”
Malachi cursed silently. Then he held out his arm. “And this? My talesm returning?”
“That, I have no idea about.” Gabriel shook his head. “It’s not like we’ve seen many resurrected scribes. It must have something to do with her particular magic. The scholars would drool over this.”
Leo said, “And the reason we’re not consulting them is…?”
“I finally spoke to Rhys last night,” Gabriel said. “He’s been here for a week now, doing research. Based on what he’s seen, he thinks there is too much division in the archives. He wants to keep Ava and Malachi as quiet as possible, at least for now. All the elders have their own scholars doing research into the Irina problem, trying to find writings or visions that back up their own position.” He shrugged. “Konrad does. And he’s one of the most honorable elders on the council. But he’s not going to actively support research that could favor compulsion any more than Edmund is going to support research in favor of restoration.”
According to Gabriel, the Irin Council had become fairly evenly divided into two camps: those elders supporting compulsion, which would hunt down the Irina and force them back into heavily guarded retreats “for their own safety and the future of the Irin race”; and restoration, which would petition the most respected Irina to reform the Irina Council so that Irina could come back to public life with full protection.
It was more complicated than Malachi had expected. Compulsion grated on his instincts, but the arguments were compelling. The Irin were dying off. Generations of Irin children had been lost. The Irina needed to be protected. In fact, some of the most pro-compulsion elders on the council had lost mates and daughters during the Rending. They were passionate about the safety of the Irina. Passionate about the need for them to be protected from the Grigori. And most did not downplay the Grigori threat.
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