Cato made a sound of disgust. “You had me excited.” But there was a thoughtful expression in his eyes regardless. “That’s something, though. Maybe next time you’ll make more progress.”
“I can’t wait for next time,” Conrad said with a hard shake of his head. He’d been thinking about this for days, ever since the first conversation they’d had about her. “If she’s real, then so is the danger that she’s in. I can’t just wait for my dreams to decide that we can talk again. Who knows what could happen to her?”
“So what do you suggest we do?” Cato’s eyes widened, and before Conrad could so much as open his mouth, he’d surged on. “A portal! Open a portal through to her world, bring her back here where it’s safe!”
Conrad stared at him. “You can do that?”
“Oh, of course not,” the mage said impatiently. “But we can try, can’t we? Come with us today,” Cato said, gesturing vaguely northwards, to where Conrad knew the two of them had been meeting in the Fog.
Conrad hesitated, his eyes creeping reluctantly back to the doors to the Palace. He had a whole morning of work in the Archives scheduled, promises to keep to both Arric and Hartwell about finally finding at least one resolution to the dozens of disputes the two of them had found so far… but nothing had ever seemed less important to him. There was a chance that the woman he’d been dreaming about for years was actually out there somewhere—a living, breathing woman with a life of her own. A life that was in danger. Surely the Archivists wouldn’t begrudge him that?
And so it was that he met Lana and Cato in the woods. It had been too long since he’d stretched his wings, or even inhabited his Draconic form for longer than it took to fly back and forth across the cavern, and when he landed in the trees on the edge of the Fog, he almost didn’t want to shift back. Lana and Cato were waiting for him, and the Queen’s eyes were alive with curiosity as she peppered him with questions about his dream.
“Do you think you can do it?” he asked finally, gesturing to the Fog around them. “Do you think you can make a portal through to her?”
“I can try,” Lana said, shrugging her shoulders. “Progress has been slow so far, but… I mean, I did it once, right? Twice, if you count the first time I came here. I must be able to do it again. That first time I did it, it was to save everyone’s lives, right? Cato’s been saying that some of it must be about motivation. And I’d say that saving this woman from the danger she’s in is pretty good motivation.”
Conrad nodded, his chest full of hope as Cato and Lana started working. But as the day wore on, the adrenaline began to fade a little. Progress was a lot slower than he’d hoped it might be… there was a lot of bickering back and forth between the two of them, and Conrad found himself reminded more than a little of the Archivists whose disputes he’d been mediating.
The problem, he began to realize as he observed the two of them, seemed to be in their communication. Cato was attempting to describe what it felt like for him to use magic… but everything Lana was saying told him that she had a very different experience of her own powers. No wonder they were struggling. Eventually, they called a break… and Conrad cleared his throat softly.
“I wonder if I might venture an observation, Your Majesty?”
“You don’t have to do all that out here,” Cato said impatiently, blowing an errant lock of white hair out of his gray eyes.
“I don’t mind it,” Lana said loftily. “It makes me feel less stupid for not being able to do this. What’s your observation, Conrad?”
“Your styles may be incompatible, here. I admire your commitment to technique and practice, Cato—it’s exactly how I learn best. But I’m an Earth sign, and Lana here is a Gemini through and through.” The Queen gave him a blank look, and he fought the urge to sigh. “An air sign.”
“Of course,” Lana said wisely. “Indeed. Tell Cato what that means.”
He’d forgotten how little Lana knew about Draconic beliefs about astrology. “The constellation under which a dragon is born is said to have a great deal to do with their abilities. Their connection to their dragon, to their magic, to their very nature as a shifter… and to the kind of soulmate they find. I wonder if Lana’s qualities as an air sign might have something to do with how she uses magic.”
“Idon’tuse magic, that’s the problem,” Lana said with an irritable sigh. “I just… did it once because I needed to. I don’t remember anything I did to make it happen, I just…” She gestured helplessly.
“That’s exactly what I mean,” Conrad said quickly. “Intuition and gut instinct… those are the strengths of your sign, traditionally speaking. Maybe instead of trying to follow Cato’s instructions, you should… follow your impulse.”
Lana looked at him for a long moment. “Prince Conrad, I would never in my life have imagined that you were capable of giving such reckless advice.”
He felt a flush rise to his cheeks. “Well—”
“No, don’t take it back,” Cato interjected, his eyes bright. “It makes sense. And the connection between shifter magic and the stars… well, that’s a whole research project of its own, huh? First things first, though,” he said, shaking his head and taking a step back. “Lana. Go for it.”
She looked back and forth between them, looking suddenly lost. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Follow your impulse!”
“My impulse is to tell you to stop shouting at me,” Lana told Cato testily. Then she paused. “Maybe it would help if you gave me more information about your dreams, Conrad? Maybe if I can picture her house I can sort of… punch a way through.”
Cato winced visibly at the description. “Careful punching though, right? I’d like to remind everyone present that we’re playing with magic that literally nobody understands—”
“Careful punching, right,” Lana said breezily, though she tipped Conrad a wink that couldn’t help but make him feel a little worried. Still, the thought of the woman from his dreams wouldn’t leave his mind. If she was out there—really out there, not some figment of his imagination like he’d always thought—then he owed it to her to do what he could to reach out to her. Even if it sounded reckless and dangerous, and like the exact kind of thing he’d spend most of his political career advising people against…
Conrad took a deep breath. His own astrological sign was famous for both loyalty and stubbornness. While Lana channeled her own astrological gifts, he was going to need to draw on his own to get through this. He shut his eyes, bringing to mind the memory of the room he’d spent so many pleasant evenings in… and then opened his eyes again and began to describe it. He saw Lana listening intently, her eyes widening a little when he hesitated over descriptions of the objects in the room he didn’t recognize. She volunteered a few names for them, all in that strange language of hers, the one she dropped into when (he suspected) she wanted to swear without anybody understanding.
“That’s Earth,” Lana whispered when he paused in his description. “Conrad, you’re talking about a room on Earth, you must be.”
“That’s where you’re from?” Cato had been physically biting his lip to stop himself breaking into the conversation, but the technique seemed to have let him down at last. “This woman Conrad’s been dreaming of is from Earth too?”