Into the Wind by Shira Anthony Read Free Book Online Page B

“Would you like to swim?” Ian asked as they reached the path that led to the water.
    “Not tonight. Thank you.” They swam nearly every night together, often making love under the waves. Tonight, though, Taren felt compelled to remain on land.
    Ian chuckled. “So formal. You’d think I was a stranger and not your mate.”
    “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
    “Tell me how to help you.” Ian clasped Taren’s hand tighter.
    “I wish I knew.”
    “I can sometimes be patient.” Ian smiled, but Taren could see the concern in his eyes.
    Taren led them back down the hill toward the village. “I spent the afternoon with Vurin,” he said as they walked.
    “So I heard.”
    “He told you?” Taren asked.
    “He didn’t need to.” Ian stopped walking for a moment and turned to face Taren. “The entire village knows how much time you spend at the temple.”
    “I’m sorry.” He knew it was selfish of him to spend so much time there.
    “You mustn’t apologize to me for something the goddess calls you to do.” Ian squeezed Taren’s hand reassuringly.
    “I once heard you say you didn’t believe the goddess existed,” Taren pointed out. He brushed his fingers over Ian’s cheek.
    “I’ve said many things.” Ian chuckled. “Including some about how exasperating you can be. But I no longer doubt she exists. You’re proof enough of that for me.”
    “You’ve been dreaming as well, haven’t you?” Taren studied Ian’s face carefully. He’d heard Ian mumble in his sleep, heard him speak Treande’s name.
    “I’m no seer,” Ian replied. Taren could sense Ian’s reticence to say more.
    “You’re avoiding my question, Captain .” Taren knew Ian feared the dreams, just as Taren feared his gift. “You cannot hide things from me either,” he added. “It goes both ways.”
    “Indeed.” Ian stopped and kissed Taren. “I should know better.”
    “You should .” Taren clasped Ian’s face in his hands and smiled back at him.
    Ian frowned, then shook his head. “Some of the dreams seem almost real.”
    “Not dreams. Memories. Why should I be the only one to have them?” Taren asked.
    “Could be.” Ian appeared momentarily uncomfortable.
    “Tell me, then. What did you dream of?”
    “I dreamed we sailed to the Gateway Islands.” Ian slipped from Taren’s grasp and stepped off the path, pausing at the edge of the high cliff to gaze out at the ocean.
    “The Gateways?” Taren knew they were so called because of their location as a waypoint between the Kingdom of Derryth and the Eastern Lands. “The last outpost of humanity,” Rider had called them. There had been talk aboard the Sea Witch of sailing to the Eastern Lands, but Rider had always refused when the men had asked. Taren knew now that Rider had continued to sail the Luathan Sea to assist Ian in spying for the mainland Ea.
    “Aye.”
    “Were we headed to the Eastern Lands?” Taren asked. He couldn’t explain why hearing this left him feeling strangely wistful and ill at ease.
    “I don’t know. I only remember that you were with me but that we were not sailing aboard the Phantom . The ship was foreign to me. Peculiar rigging.”
    “What did it look like?”
    Ian frowned, then said, “The sails were like the wings of a bird, colorful, hanging from double masts. Like a noblewoman’s fan.”
    “When I was very young, Borstan once described ships like that. Said they sail nowhere but in Astenya, the Kingdom of the East. He called them ‘dragon wings.’” Taren smiled at the memory. “I recall imagining the ships taking flight, borne on the wind.” He didn’t tell Ian he’d dreamed of the same ships—he hadn’t remembered until that moment. The coincidence seemed ominous. Taren shivered as the wind shifted direction without warning and blew Ian’s hair about his face.
    Ian turned and gave Taren a strange look.
    “Something wrong?” Taren asked.
    “No. Nothing.” Ian shrugged. “It feels like rain.”
     
     
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