Berganza had already transpassed the door—as he wasn't carrying anything, he had no need to open it—before I summoned him back and asked him to bring me something.

He returned with an ivory jewel box that I think was older than the Protectorate. Good thing he remembered where the matching lockets were, because we Umbras had a penchant for shoving pieces of jewelry on the nearest box and forgetting about them.

The lockets I’d been thinking of were small gold rectangles. Because they’d been made for a King of the Dying Sun several generations ago, they’d been engraved with setting suns. My ancestors’s devotion to the same motifs and colors could be exhausting; is it suprising that I’d avoid them whenever possible?

I enclosed my half of the hair spell in one locket and wore both around my neck, so that I wouldn’t forget them.

A bracelet in the shape of a silver snake peered out of the jewel box with green tourmaline eyes. I reached my hand out and let it crawl around my wrist.

“Are you bored in there?” I asked it.

The bracelet tasted the air with a flickering tongue. It was skillfully made, no doubt. Would Azul like it, though? It bothered me that I didn’t know. Of course, I didn’t know him at all.

“I daresay you’ll be useful to him.” I dropped the bracelet on my jacket pocket. “Though I wish you wouldn’t have the chance.”

Berganza hadn’t moved. Of course he waited for me to be done with the jewel box, so that he could return it to its shelf. I knew he had questions, though; if he wasn’t such a professional he would’ve made them already.

“The Megarchon has made her move,” I said. “She's summoned a missing great-grandson to the capital. Someone wants him dead before arrival.”

Berganza thought it was best to wait and see what happened.

“It’d be much easier, but there's two issues with that. First, I must protect him.”

According to Berganza, my sense of honor was either outdated or ahead of its time.

“Oh, really?” I looked at him over my cup of tea. “You of all people should know that even if you can't live by your word, you can still die by it.”

Berganza glowed with wounded pride.

“Let us leave that business behind, shall we? Second, I must find out what the Megarchon intends.”

Berganza didn't think her intentions boded anything good for the great-grandson—or practically anybody else, but that was to be expected.

Being both in my employment and already dead, he could afford to speak ill of the Megarchon.

“He's smart enough to know it, and therefore, to realize it’s in his own advantage to work with me.”

My argument didn’t entirely convince Berganza. Some people can’t be saved, and when they’re going to be more trouble than they’re worth, you should cut your losses. The earlier the better.

“He'll do as I say. He must, if he's to survive. This is the chance I need. The current Megarchon won't live half a decade longer. None of the heir apparents have quickened the Imperium. They’re ready to tear each other apart.”

A laughter like silver bells rang in my mind.

This time, Berganza didn’t question my argument.

“When the time comes, take care of Little Master. That's all I ask of you.”

He left. I finished my tea. Some time later, Berganza came to fetch the tray; as the senior staff member, he prided himself on looking after me when I used the portal room. I didn’t notice, being busy meditating. Every once in a while I stood and stretched, but mostly I sat still and listened to the Underworld. Time passed slowly, as it always does when I’m restless. Morning had broken, but I was sheltered from it. Soon it’d be time for breakfast. I’d wait for Berganza to return and confirm I wanted another cup of tea, this time with a pile of freshly baked pastries the size of a quail’s egg, drizzling honey and filled with homemade jam.

A distant feeling clashed against my mind, soft like a kitten’s headbutt. Not the echo of one of my own memories, and not a flare of magic echoing toward the Underworld either, but someone else’s mind rippling through the dreamvoid.

help

Not a call of distress. Too low, exhausted, and hopeless for that. It was the kind of pleading that comes from someone who’s given up on trying to escape,

help, help

repeated as if the words held no meaning anymore.

Only one living person held my essence, so that I could feel his distress across time and space. I doubted he’d want to see me; this was likely a nightmare, quite possibly just a regular nightmare incapable of causing him any harm. What if it wasn’t, though?

He might not believe it justification enough, but my own life was on the line, so his opposition wouldn’t hold weight.

…Still, I should be careful not to barge in. Minds are very private; dreams wander into places the conscious self isn’t aware of. I could very easily regret what I was about to do.

A single thought led me through the dreamvoid. Before me appeared a small figure, shining out of the darkness.

Ah. Of course he glowed with his own light.

He was Azul Mamani indeed, but not the Azul Mamani I’d met earlier that day. Though he’d curled himself up on a ball, his legs held up before him like a barrier, his shoulders shaking in silence, it was clear he looked half his real age.

A memory, but unlike me, he couldn’t tell this was only a memory. He didn’t even know it could be ended.

If I thought it was even remotely a good idea, I would’ve liked to look the same age as he did, and go sit next to him. Maybe he’d like having someone to talk to. It could be a way of making friends, I supposed.

Of course I couldn’t do that.

“Everything’s fine,” I said.

His head whipped up. Too late, he remembered to scrub the tracks of his tears off of his face. I didn’t need to feel his anger radiating against me, but nevertheless he broadcasted it, far louder and clearer than his distress had been. An improvement, I supposed.

“Go away!” He clutched his legs protectively.

“You summoned me.”

“No I didn’t.”

This was one of the worst situations for me to talk my way into. I couldn’t ask him to trust me; even if I could bring myself to lie, he wouldn’t believe it.

I sat with crossed legs. Most dreams are forgettable and soon forgotten, but entering someone’s dreams is all but guaranteed to make them memorable. It was for the best, I supposed: I shouldn’t say anything I didn’t want him to remember.

“Are you afraid of being hurt?”

Azul didn’t answer.

“That’s not an unreasonable fear. I could hurt you.” I hesitated before the next few words, as if the ground had suddenly given way under my feet. “I’m afraid of that sometimes. Of hurting others. That’s why I oathed myself to you. See, you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

What a terrible speech. It wouldn’t convince anybody.

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” Azul said.

“I know. I did it on my own.”

“I’m going to disappoint you, too. And then you will hurt me.”

I’d gone too far; heard almost too much. I had to step back before I said too much.

“You’re not a child anymore. This is only a dream. Think about it and you’ll know it’s the truth.”

“Really?” He sounded skeptical at first, but then, his frown relaxed into a new understanding. “You’re right.”

All of a sudden, Azul looked exactly like he was supposed to. I reached out and held his sweet heart-shaped face in my hands. All I wanted was a better look at his profile, at his hazel eyes and elegant convex nose and how well they came together. Unexpectedly, he rubbed his face on my palm, like a cat trying to leave his scent on me.

I opened my arms. Azul climbed on my lap and snuggled up to me, resting his head over my heart.

Truly unprecedented! I didn’t want to say anything, for fear of ruining the moment. But I did hold him tighter, and ran my fingers through his soft coffee-colored hair. He snuggled up closer.

If I could only breathe in his scent, the moment would’ve been perfect. If I could strip him naked and sink my teeth on every morsel of soft flesh hidden by his clothes—but I couldn’t.

Azul looked up at me. “Wait. You’re the real Vanth, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Did you think I was a dream of yours? I’m flattered.”

He stood up, not upset, but not doing the best job of hiding his annoyance.

I really should learn to keep my mouth shut. Since he was standing, I stood up as well, though it made no difference.

Azul examined me. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“Really? Enlighten me.”

He grinned, and lifted his hands to his shirt buttons, and popped one open.

“You seem to be mistaken.” Maybe he too had picked up on my emotions through the dreamvoid, but I was quite good at dampening them, so I felt confident in putting up a bluff.

“Liar.”

For an instant, we stood at an impasse.

There it was again! That gleam in his eyes again, if only for an instant: that gleeful defiance, so much sooner than I’d hoped to see it.

Lovers like those were always my favorites. The ones that must be peeled with exquisite care, so that the soft trembling flesh inside tastes all the sweeter. Any wait was worth it, to bring a man like that to his knees.

“Still,” I said, “you summoned me.”

“I don’t even know what this place’s supposed to be.” He looked around. The nothing remained nothing. “Is this my mind? Pretty sure I have way more interesting shit going on.”

“No. You can’t enter someone else’s mind. This is the dreamvoid.”

“Well, that explains nothing. Wait. I suppose the dreamvoid is what connects dreams to the Underworld?”

“That’s the simplest explanation I can provide. Give me one moment and I’ll improve on our surroundings.”

A neutral setting seemed best. A beach sounded good to me, like in southern Innel-Xel, with white sands and a bright turquoise sea and monochrome seabirds darting through the sky. Some people find seabirds an irritant, but I’ve always found their cries oddly comforting; they mean a place is a living one. I figured out Azul might feel similarly.

He looked around, hands on his pants pockets, and raised his eyes to the illusionary sun, which, being illusionary, could be looked at directly without harm to yourself.

“Not bad.”

“Thanks. Now listen: you must keep the spell with my essence on your person at all times. If I hadn’t been focusing on the Underworld, I would never have heard you through the dreamvoid.”

He stood very straight. Not that it could make any difference, seeing how this wasn’t the physical world. Also, it wouldn’t make a difference in the physical world either. He barely reached up to my chin. Wasn’t that just ridiculous? As ridiculous as it was delightful. I could fit him right in the space inside my arms, as if he was made to be there.

“I didn’t mean to summon you.”

Of course he'd say that. I believed him, too. Deep down he might’ve hold a vague hope that this time someone would come, but all the layperson knows about entering dreams is that it has something to do with the Underworld and it’s highly illegal. Hardly more acceptable than necromancy.

“I should remember to be more forthcoming with you,” I said.

“Yeah!”

“So let me be forthcoming now: if the necromancer still intends to target you, they might try to strike through the dreamvoid next. Keep that spell with you, so that I can tell if you’re in any distress, and call me the second you feel unsafe.”

He looked into the roiling waves. “So you can show up in my dreams at any time?” 

“Only when you feel yourself threatened.”

“I wasn’t threatened earlier.”

“I felt a call for help and didn’t wait to see what happened.”

“Hmm. So you shouldn't be able to start rattling around my skull in normal conditions, is what you mean?”

“Of course not. I mean, I couldn't do that anyway. What a strange metaphor. Invading someone's dreams is much harder than you might think. And look, I know it'll upset you, so I won't do it.”

He shrugged, not particularly convinced. If I thought shaking him down would help get my message across, I would've done that.

“I'll be leaving now. Keep the spell in your person at all times.”

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t care to die.”

I returned to the physical world as easily as I’d left it. For a few moments, my eyes remained closed as I focused on my own breathing. Very little time had passed. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know Berganza had come to inquire after breakfast. He wouldn’t stop pestering me in his subtle way until I went down and ate something.

About five hours left.