The Safe-Keeper's Secret by Sharon Shinn Read Free Book Online

away when she was fourteen and had never been seen again. This middle daughter, with whom Isadora was closest, had given birth to three stillborn children. Parents, siblings, cousins—all had either turned away from Isadora in anger or been lost to disaster.
    But that was the life of a Dream-Maker, Fiona knew. Unlike Truth-Tellers and Safe-Keepers, who could be found throughout the kingdom, only one Dream-Maker lived at any given time. She was almost always an older woman whose own life had been full of woe, but everywhere she went, somebody’s dearest wish came true. Thus she was beloved from one end of the kingdom to the other. Innkeepers gave her their grandest rooms; poor farmers and rich merchants pressed food and coins into her hands. Young girls showered her with kisses, hoping her mere presence could make some favored young man turn to them and fall in love.
    Fiona had asked Isadora once why she decided to grant some wishes and not others. Isadora had shaken her head, and her untidy mass of gray curls had tumbled free from its pins. “I’d like to be able to tell you that,” she said a little sadly. “There are so many wishes I would have granted if I could! But the power doesn’t seem to work that way. It is my presence, not my will, that knocks some hidden desire into being. I have no control over the process at all.”
    Once that was explained, Fiona hadn’t bothered to voice her own most secret wish. She just hugged it to herself and wondered if the day might arrive when the Dream-Maker’s presence might make her own dream come true.

    Reed was out somewhere playing—of course—but Fiona sat at the table like an adult, sipping fresh mint tea and listening to the two women talk. For a while, in hushed tones, they discussed Isadora’s daughter.
    â€œI do wonder, sometimes, if she’d be better off if I never went back to visit her,” Isadora said at last. “It seems tragedy strikes her most deeply every time I’m there.”
    â€œThat can’t be true,” Damiana said quietly. “Perhaps she is being groomed to take on your role after you’re gone. Her sorrows are her own, and not of your doing.”
    Isadora sighed heavily. Everything about her was heavy, from her shape to her spirits to her voice; and yet her broad, sad face was the kindest one Fiona had ever seen. “I would not wish the role on anyone that I loved
or
hated,” she said. “But I must confess, I am growing weary. In a few years, I will be happy enough to lay this burden down.”
    â€œThen who will be Dream-Maker after you?” Fiona asked.
    The women looked over at her, both of them smiling. “I don’t know,” Isadora said. “But someone will step forward—someone whose life has been a study in loss. One day she will realize that, even though she still cries, someone around her is rejoicing. That though she suffers, she has the power to bring joy. Almost, it will make up to her for her own troubles.”
    â€œWhat dreams have you had a hand in bringing to life these past few months?” Fiona’s mother asked.
    â€œThat boy in Movington—the blind one—woke up the day after I’d been there, and he could see.”
    â€œThat’s marvelous!” Damiana exclaimed.
    â€œHis father sent me the most beautiful shawl. I would have returned it—because, really, it was not of my doing—but I’ve learned by now that joy must find an expression. No one will take their gifts back. So I put it away to give to a granddaughter some day.”
    â€œWhat other dreams?” Fiona asked.
    â€œOh, a whole range of them. A merchant in Cranfield made an excellent investment with a high return. A woman in Lowford bore living twins after five stillbirths. A young man in Thrush Hollow was successful in his courtship—though I truly don’t think I had a hand in that, because he was a very handsome