In the dream, the tinker’s tent was large and colorful, its peaked top striped with bright red and white. It had been placed right in the center of the village green, which was how Megs knew it was only a dream. In real life, tinkers had never been allowed inside the Druet Village but were made to camp along its outskirts.
Her feet carried her to the tent’s entrance, and when she pushed open the flap that led inside, she was greeted with the earthy smell of some kind of herbal tea. The tinker’s wife was seated on a cushion before a low table not far from the fire in the center of the tent. She smiled warmly at Megs and waved her over, gesturing for Megs to sit on the cushion opposite her.
“I’m glad I found you,” the tinker’s wife said, which was odd since Megs was the one who walked into the tent and found the woman just sitting here.
But Megs nodded anyway, because it seemed the polite thing to do.
“Have some tea,” the woman said, pointing at the delicate porcelain cup in front of Megs.
Megs took the cup and glanced around, taking in the cozy interior. She’d seen tinker tents before, but she’d never been inside one. She was surprised at how comfortable it felt. Bright rugs of apa-apa wool covered the ground; the bed rolls that lined one side of the tent looked nicer than Megs’s own bed. And it wasn’t at all drafty or damp, the way her family home was.
Maybe that was because this was just a dream.
She took a sip of the tea. It was strong, but she liked it.
“I’m happy that Linna found you,” said the tinker woman. “It wasn’t clear that she would.”
Megs took another sip. She wanted to point out that Linna hadn’t found her; Megs and Zandra had been the ones to find Linna. But for some reason, Megs knew not to argue.
The tinker woman was younger than she expected her to be – older than Megs by at least ten years, with a few sparkles of white mixed into her black hair, but still quite young. If Megs had to guess, the woman was about the age Mama had been when Megs and Milton joined the Imperial Army. Perhaps that was why Megs felt comfortable sitting here in her tent, drinking her tea.
“The dead do go on, you know, after this life,” said the tinker woman.
“Then Mother Moon really does stand guard over a land of perpetual peace?”
The woman smiled. It was maternal. “No, Megs. Mother Moon has not been part of this world for a long time. Neither have Father Mezzu or Mother Eirenna or any of the other old gods. But I think you guessed that.”
Megs nodded her agreement. She’d always suspected the gods had abandoned mankind, and not just because the Wise Men said the old gods were nothing but superstition.
“Then where do the dead go?” Megs asked.
“Different places,” said the tinker woman, waving a hand vaguely. “Most of them are born again, even into the very same families of the ones they just left. My daughter is like that. She was my mother-in-law, once.”
“But not everyone is born again,” Megs said, and even though she’d never heard anyone say it before, somehow she knew it was true.
“No, not all of them.” The tinker woman’s smile turned sad. “Some find themselves in the Shadowlands, destined to become one of the bodiless. But others simply linger here, within the mortal realm and yet no longer mortal. These are the ones unable to reconcile themselves with their own deaths, convinced their work has been left unfinished. It can last a very long time.” She paused. “Your Azza lingers now.”
“I know,” Megs said, again surprised at her own knowledge. “Azza whispers to me still. Usually while I sleep, but other times, too.”
“Help Linna finish the war, Megs. Then Azza can move on.”
Megs drank more tea. “The war will never end. Mountain men will kill Imperial folk, Imperial folk will kill mountain men, and it will keep going and going until everyone is dead.”
The tinker woman shook her head. “That will only be true if Linna fails. And there is a very good chance she will fail if she leaves this place without you.”
“Why me?” Megs asked, and there was more inside the simple question than just, Why must I be the one to go with Linna?
“My people would say ‘because it is the fate Father Mezzu wrote for you at your birth,’” the tinker woman said. “But in truth, there might not be an answer to your question. We each possess a thread that weaves through the tapestry of this world, and it winds this way and that, sometimes due to the choices we make, but sometimes due to chance and circumstances beyond our control.” Her face grew grave. “You met Linna by chance, Megs. But whether your thread continues to run with her or not is now a matter of choice.”
“And if I go with Linna, Azza can find peace?”
The woman’s sad smile came back. “If birth as a girl-child in this world can be called peace, then yes. But at least her current torment will end.”
“How do you know?”
“I am a seer. For better and for worse, I see the threads within the great tapestry more clearly than most.”
“What about me? What happens if I go with Linna?”
The seer closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating. When she opened them again, the black pupils were flames, but only for a second. Megs knew the flames meant shadows, and therefore she should run from the tent fast and far, yet she was not afraid of this woman.
“If you go, Linna will be more likely to succeed, but there is still a chance she will fail in her quest,” said the seer. “You will meet someone you thought lost to you, but there it is possible none of you shall survive. And you will never set foot upon Imperial lands again.”
“I’ve lost many people. Which one will I meet again?”
The woman gave a slight frown and shook her head. “That part I cannot see. I only know that it is someone … someone you once considered loving, yet somehow didn’t.”
Megs finished her tea and set the delicate cup back down. The only person she loved that she wanted to see again in this moment was Azza.
“Thank you for the tea, tinker.” Megs stood up to leave, heading towards the tent flap that served as the bliva’s door.
“Megs?” the seer said.
Megs turned. “Yes?”
“If you do go, and you do find Joslyn of Terinto… tell her that she still owes her sister a visit, if only in dreams.” The woman smiled. There was both warmth and sadness in her expression.
Megs nodded. “Alright. I will.”
The dream of the tinker woman stayed with Megs when Linna’s Mother Eirenna, goddess of the dawn, woke her the next morning. Linna still slept soundly – unusual, since she was typically awake before Megs.
Megs went about the business of preparing a breakfast for them both, stoking the fire enough to warm what was left of the previous night’s stew. The smell of food must have been what finally woke Linna, who blinked a few times before offering Megs a groggy smile and sitting up.
“I had the strangest dreams last night,” Linna said, finger-combing her black hair before tying it back in its usual ponytail.
“So did I,” Megs said.
“I was back in the palace, bringing food to Princess Adela. Her betrothed, Darien of House Paratheen, was there in her chambers, and the two of them were playing some strange game where they both stood on their heads while sipping tea.” She shook her head and chuckled, rubbing the sleep from both eyes with a fist. “What about you – what did you dream about?”
“Nothing so amusing as all that.” Megs handed Linna a bowl of stew. “Linna, I was thinking. I’ve never been east of the Sunrise Mountains, but Rom and I scouted a pass to the south of here about a year ago. There’s a valley below it. Grasslands. Looks like it goes east for miles. It’s probably the fastest way through the mountains from here.” She glanced up. “I’m pretty sure I could find it again.”
Linna stared at her for a moment, holding the stew before her without moving to drink from it. “Does this mean you’ll go? You’ll join me?”
Megs shrugged casually, but she was thinking of Azza, lingering indefinitely in the Sunrise Mountains as a lonely ghost. “I don’t see much point in staying here. My family is shadow infected. My friends are all dead. The East is in the hands of tribesmen. I might as well.”
Linna set down her stew and leaped across the low fire, throwing her arms around Megs and pulling her into a tight embrace. “Thank you! I didn’t want to pressure you into it – I knew it wasn’t your burden to bear – but I’m so glad you’re coming.”
“I’m … still sore from yesterday,” Megs said, wincing.
Linna let go. “Oh – right. Sorry.” She glanced around their campsite. “We could probably pack everything up by mid-morning. Can we make the pass by nightfall?”
Megs thought for a moment. “Eh. Probably not. But if we make use of the day, I’m thinking we could make it by midday tomorrow.”
Linna looked like she was about to hug Megs again, but this time she only wrapped a hand around Megs’s forearm and squeezed. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I don’t think I knew how badly I wanted a companion with me for the final stretch of this journey until just now.”
Megs grunted. “Maybe save your thanks until we find your Commander and the Empress and make it back in one piece.” Even as she said it, she realized how ludicrous it all sounded. She was about to embark on a quest with a relative stranger to a land she’d never heard of to find an Empress she had long assumed dead. “Linna?”
“Yes?”
“Does Joslyn of Terinto have a sister?”
Linna cocked her head, giving Megs a curious look. “She does. Her name is Tasmyn; she’s a tinker’s wife. But the Commander hasn’t seen her since they were girls. Why do you ask?”
Megs shook her head. “Just wondering. Thinking about my own family.”
Linna frowned like she was not convinced.
“I’m going to start packing my things,” Megs said.
“Good idea,” Linna said. “I’ll join you as soon as I break my fast.”