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Authors: Richard Parks
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treasure had come to the thieves' hall, but she didn't recognize the image of the room. It was much larger, its limits ill-defined and changing. Great tapestries hung in heavy folds from walls that were more shimmer than substance. It occurred to Joslyn that Dyaros's dream of treasure was much clearer than his imagination of where that treasure might be.
She found him sitting on a throne of rosewood and ivory; she didn't bother to mask herself from him. "Where is this place?"
Dyaros frowned, but the dream did not change. Joslyn's presence apparently was incidental to him; he did not take his attention from the treasure. "I don't know. Go away."
"It's not real," Joslyn pointed out, slyly.
"You're not real," Dyaros said.
Joslyn smiled. I'm going to enjoy this . "I'm a Dreamer of the Temple of Somna now, Dyaros. I am very real. This is a dream."
Now Dyaros did look at her, and Joslyn's smile went away. "You think I don't know that?"
"What..?"
Dyaros's gaze was back on his phantom gold. "I know this dream — I've had it almost every night of my life. Sometimes others, I admit, but I always return to this room. It exists, Joslyn, somewhere. It's more real to me than you ever were."
Dyaros knew that he was dreaming, knew her . Joslyn slowed her breathing with an effort. "Just because you never possessed me — "
Dyaros laughed. "I know I'm not dreaming you; I'd never imagine that you understood so little. Possessed? What thief possesses anything? What belongs to a thief except a few dreams and a body that is one day hanged — or worse? I know I'll never find this room; I know this gold will never buy my way out of this wretched Guild. But what about your dreams, Joslyn? You thought my pursuit of you was about pride? Heavens, girl, I've been turned down by far worse than you and smiled to think of it. It was about life , Joslyn. I dream, yes, but I don't live in them the way you did... and do. Living in a dream is all you know, Joslyn. Will it really be no different for you in the temple?"
"I am a Dreamer!" Joslyn said with a shaky voice.
"Somna made us all dreamers, Joslyn. Now you'll be paid to steal the dreams of others, though I'm certain the priests have other names for it. Did you come to steal my dream, Joslyn? One of the very few things a thief can call his own?"
"I came..." Joslyn didn't finish. She did know why she came now, and she knew it wasn't about life. It was about pride. And I accused you, Dyaros. Somna forgive me .
Joslyn backed toward the curtain of mist, hoping that the dream would return to its normal course. Dyaros did not turn back to his gold; without his attention the image of wealth was not quite so real.
"Time to hide, Joslyn? I think it must be."
"I will go. I... I will not trouble you again."
Dyaros shrugged. "You trouble yourself far more than me, always. This is a new dream for me; perhaps I will forget. But if I remember I will breathe a sigh of regret into my wine now and again for a girl who is little but dream."
Joslyn stopped. "I am real."
Dyaros laughed again. "Bold words."
Joslyn took a breath. "I will prove it."
"How?"
"In the alley behind the Temple there is a grating in the wall ten feet from the ground. Tomorrow after sundown you will find it unfastened." Joslyn didn't stop to think about what she said; the time for that was past. "Take the stairway on the right up one level; the first door you see is mine."
"What about the White Robes?" Dyaros asked.
"Most will be in the Chamber of True Dreaming for augury then; I'll feign illness. They will not miss me overmuch."
Dyaros was still smiling, but he looked thoughtful. "Well."
"I am real," Joslyn repeated. "If you are, too, then come to me."
Dyaros's dream closed in around him, faded. "Well," he said again, and was gone.
*
On the morning following the second evening Joslyn woke to a the sound of knocking and a babble of voices in the hallway. She glanced at the empty place in the bed beside her for no reason she
She found him sitting on a throne of rosewood and ivory; she didn't bother to mask herself from him. "Where is this place?"
Dyaros frowned, but the dream did not change. Joslyn's presence apparently was incidental to him; he did not take his attention from the treasure. "I don't know. Go away."
"It's not real," Joslyn pointed out, slyly.
"You're not real," Dyaros said.
Joslyn smiled. I'm going to enjoy this . "I'm a Dreamer of the Temple of Somna now, Dyaros. I am very real. This is a dream."
Now Dyaros did look at her, and Joslyn's smile went away. "You think I don't know that?"
"What..?"
Dyaros's gaze was back on his phantom gold. "I know this dream — I've had it almost every night of my life. Sometimes others, I admit, but I always return to this room. It exists, Joslyn, somewhere. It's more real to me than you ever were."
Dyaros knew that he was dreaming, knew her . Joslyn slowed her breathing with an effort. "Just because you never possessed me — "
Dyaros laughed. "I know I'm not dreaming you; I'd never imagine that you understood so little. Possessed? What thief possesses anything? What belongs to a thief except a few dreams and a body that is one day hanged — or worse? I know I'll never find this room; I know this gold will never buy my way out of this wretched Guild. But what about your dreams, Joslyn? You thought my pursuit of you was about pride? Heavens, girl, I've been turned down by far worse than you and smiled to think of it. It was about life , Joslyn. I dream, yes, but I don't live in them the way you did... and do. Living in a dream is all you know, Joslyn. Will it really be no different for you in the temple?"
"I am a Dreamer!" Joslyn said with a shaky voice.
"Somna made us all dreamers, Joslyn. Now you'll be paid to steal the dreams of others, though I'm certain the priests have other names for it. Did you come to steal my dream, Joslyn? One of the very few things a thief can call his own?"
"I came..." Joslyn didn't finish. She did know why she came now, and she knew it wasn't about life. It was about pride. And I accused you, Dyaros. Somna forgive me .
Joslyn backed toward the curtain of mist, hoping that the dream would return to its normal course. Dyaros did not turn back to his gold; without his attention the image of wealth was not quite so real.
"Time to hide, Joslyn? I think it must be."
"I will go. I... I will not trouble you again."
Dyaros shrugged. "You trouble yourself far more than me, always. This is a new dream for me; perhaps I will forget. But if I remember I will breathe a sigh of regret into my wine now and again for a girl who is little but dream."
Joslyn stopped. "I am real."
Dyaros laughed again. "Bold words."
Joslyn took a breath. "I will prove it."
"How?"
"In the alley behind the Temple there is a grating in the wall ten feet from the ground. Tomorrow after sundown you will find it unfastened." Joslyn didn't stop to think about what she said; the time for that was past. "Take the stairway on the right up one level; the first door you see is mine."
"What about the White Robes?" Dyaros asked.
"Most will be in the Chamber of True Dreaming for augury then; I'll feign illness. They will not miss me overmuch."
Dyaros was still smiling, but he looked thoughtful. "Well."
"I am real," Joslyn repeated. "If you are, too, then come to me."
Dyaros's dream closed in around him, faded. "Well," he said again, and was gone.
*
On the morning following the second evening Joslyn woke to a the sound of knocking and a babble of voices in the hallway. She glanced at the empty place in the bed beside her for no reason she
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