The Wayfarer King Read Online Free Page B

milk back and wiped his mouth.
    “Trevick?” Feanna prompted.
    “I don’t believe in Asti-nayas,” he said. “I’m not going to pretend to pray anymore.”
    Feanna touched him gently, shifting, and confirmed what she suspected. His confidence had waned, and he only needed reassurance. “Darling, I love you, no matter what you believe. You don’t need to pray if you don’t want to. I’ll think of you as my son either way.” She kissed his temple, hoping she’d eased some of his fears of abandonment that surfaced now and then. “Tansa, how about you?”
    “Yes, m’lady,” Tansa replied. “I prayed for Jilly to like it here so she could be my sister.”
    Tears burned Feanna’s eyes. “That’s so sweet, dear. All right, let’s go on to bed now. Jilly, you’ll sleep with me for a night or two until I get a pallet for you.”
    One by one, the three children gave Feanna a kiss on the cheek and bid her goodnight. They went to their sleeping room and shut the door.
    At first Feanna dressed Jilly in a night-shirt that was much too big. When she bunched the excess fabric in her fist and said maybe the two of them could fit in it, Jilly managed a smile. She found a smaller shirt in Tansa’s meager stack of clothes, and pulled it on over Jilly’s head. “Much better. You and Tansa will need to share until Adro brings some of your clothes.” She tucked Jilly into bed and blew out the lamp before climbing under the covers herself. Once she settled into the bed, Jilly snuggled uncomfortably close to her.
    “It’s too dark,” Jilly whispered.
    “It is a bit dark in here, isn’t it?” Feanna rose again and lighted a candle, then set it on the dressing table across from the bed. “Better?”
    Jilly nodded, her blond hair glinting in the candle’s warm glow. Feanna crawled back into bed, shifted, and checked the girl’s feelings. Calmer, not so agitated, but still deeply sad, and as good as Feanna could hope for under the circumstances. She waited until Jilly’s breathing slowed and deepened before she let herself relax into sleep.
    Sometime later, she awoke to a terrible scream. Beside her, Jilly thrashed madly, arms and legs kicking and striking out, tangling herself in the bedclothes. “Jilly!” Feanna said. The girl didn’t hear, didn’t respond. Her shrill screams threatened to break Feanna’s eardrums. She shifted and tried to pull Jilly into her arms.
    Fear gripped her. She remembered the smell of blood, of vile beasts and snapping fangs. The sense that a man was screaming made her skin creep. Death was everywhere. Her terror rose to a crescendo, then grief, overwhelming grief, threatened to crush her chest.
    Feanna gasped and jerked back. Heavens! “Jilly!” she yelled. She tried to take the child by the shoulders, but Jilly thrashed too violently. A foot slammed into Feanna’s ear and took her aback. “Jilly! It’s Miss Feanna. Wake up!”
    The child was lost in the nightmare, unable to hear her. Feanna hated having to use her skills, but what choice did she have? She had to calm Jilly.
    When she thought she had a good grip on Jilly’s waist, she shifted, gritting her teeth against the violence and fear that the poor child felt. She shifted again and concentrated on her own feelings of calm, confidence and love, then pushed them at the fright-stricken child. Moment by moment, the terror ebbed. Jilly’s thrashing slowed until finally she lay still. Her quick breaths were the only sounds in the sudden quiet. “That’s it, love,” Feanna whispered, sending calming thoughts and feelings into her, loving, tender feelings of safety and serenity. Jilly’s breathing slowed to normal, then deepened again into the rhythm of restful sleep. Only then did Feanna release the contact.
    “I’m sorry,” she whispered, stroking Jilly’s sweaty forehead. You’ve been through so much. I won’t take your grief from you. You need it to heal, but I can help you get through the nights.
    “What’s