Chapter Two: NIGHT TERRORS

It was sunset. The late chores were done. The horses, fed and content, were tucked into clean, fresh stalls for the night. It was the hour every horseman looks forward to--the hour of rest. Rigel brooded in silence, chin upon his knees, in the shadow of the stud barn.

Beside him lounged a boy with a guitar, strumming softly and humming to himself in a rich tenor. His hair was the color of the clouds on a brilliant summer day, his ice blue eyes thoughtful as he shook his head and tried a different chord sequence.

"I just can't get this one right," Altair muttered to his dark twin, who made no motion to respond.

Rigel's thoughts were heavy with the unsettling events of the afternoon: Aury's fall, that ominous shadow that neither of the friends was fully certain had been there, and then having to face his father's wrath when he'd arrived so late for such an important job. The afternoon had progressed in awkward shifts between arguments and angry silence. Rigel's spirit ached from the raw anger his sire had directed toward him all that day. He hadn't spoken to him once during the close-down chores in the stable. Normally he was glad for the end of a hard day of work. Today, he wished he could go back and do it all over again--and perhaps avoid some of the awkward moments.

"Are you listening to me?"

Altair's voice sliced into Rigel's preoccupation and startled him.

"What? Sorry. I guess I wasn't."

The fair twin laughed and set his guitar down beside him. He ran a hand along the strings, and the instrument responded to the caress with a contented hum. "I don't suppose I can blame you. Not after the battle you and Pa had this afternoon. It must have been a bad one. He wouldn't even talk about it when I asked him what was wrong."

Rigel leaned against the building, his faced shadowed by a the overhang of the roof. "Mmmm, I don't blame him."

Altair gave his brother's shoulder a poke and raised a snowy eyebrow. "I can see you don't want to talk about it, either. So, I'll change the subject. What was so important that you wanted us to wait here for Aury and Voy?"

At that moment the pair in question rounded the corner of the barn. Rigel reached instinctively for Aury's soul, and comforting thoughts passed between the friends. Clairvoyant's face was drawn in concern as he and the Princess settled onto the cloudy surface beside the twins.

"Aury told me about the shadow," the young mage said. "Where did you see it?"

"What shadow?" asked Altair, looking in confusion from one friend to the other.

Rigel pointed across the complex toward the path they had ridden in from the greenvalley. "That second barn in from the fields. Right at the corner there where the path narrows."

"What shadow?" Altair repeated.

Aury turned toward the spot where the mysterious shade had appeared, and shuddered. "It was only there for a second. Like a darker part of the dark . . . and it seemed to move. It scared the living daylights out of Dancer."

"What shadow?! I'm beginning to feel invisible here. What shadow?"

The other three stared at Altair for a moment before Rigel replied. "Sorry, Altair. I guess I should fill you in." He outlined the details of the ride from the greenvalley, and told his brother what had happened as they'd entered the stable yards.

Altair turned an incredulous gaze on the Princess. "You got dumped from a horse? You never get dumped. You stick to horses like a tick." His tones were teasing, and he flashed her a grin.

Aury blushed. "There's a first time for everything," she countered with a frown. "I wasn't expecting Dreamdancer to shy. She was moving along so calmly. Besides, that's not the point."

"She's right." Voy said quietly, "That isn't the point, although. . . . " The vision of his Princess dumped onto her backside brought a half-smile to his enchanting features. He winked an indigo eye in her direction, and said, "Perhaps your father is right that Dreamdancer might be too much horse for you, Princess."

"Oh, stop it," the child scolded with a pout. "Can we get back to what's important here?"

Rigel's thoughts were troubled by the day's events. Unable to enjoy the teasing, he turned the conversation back to darker matters. "Something is going on," he said, "I've had uneasy feelings a couple of times today."

Altair turned to face him, doubtful. "You've also had several major fights with Pa. That might be a good enough reason for being in a jumpy mood."

"No, it isn't that." Rigel lifted a strand of Aury's hair and absently twined it around his long fingers. "Oh, I suppose that might be adding to the mood, but it sure isn't the reason. First was that shadow. As if that wasn't bad enough, I also got the chills right before I joined you two in the classroom."

"The classroom?" Aury and Clairvoyant echoed together.

Rigel nodded. "Did either of you notice the look Poseidon gave Aury when he and Clarion were leaving the room?"

Voy shook his head. "No. Why, Rigel? What sort of look was it?"

Rigel dropped the lock of hair and shifted toward the mage, dark eyes gleaming with the intensity of his thoughts. "I'm not sure. On the outside it was just a normal look, but there was something sort of . . . frightening underneath. What do you think of him? I mean, did he give you the creeps?"

"I've always trusted Clarion's judgement," Voy said. "And Clarion really likes his nephew. I've never known him to be wrong about anyone."

"But how do you feel about Poseidon personally? Your powers are just as strong as Clarion's--or stronger. Do you `get anything' from him?" Rigel prodded in an effort to work past the boy's faithfulness to his mentor.

Clairvoyant shrugged. "I felt uneasy with him, but I passed it off to the way he acted--and the way he patted Aury like a favorite pooch." His mouth twisted in a grimace of distaste.

"That was pretty embarrassing," she agreed. "I'm not that cute."

"Sure you are," Rigel teased. He sent the blushing Princess a warm psychic hug, and returned his attention to Voy. "So you don't think he's really up to anything?"

"I can't say. I do know Clarion likes and trusts his nephew, and I don't get any obvious warning signs from him." The teen frowned and met Rigel's suspicions with frankness. "I can't honestly say that the feelings I get from Poseidon aren't just due to the fact that he's . . . annoying."

"Well, I don't like him," the Princess said, and leaned back against the stable wall with a thud.

Altair laughed. "Of course you don't like him. He patted you, remember? I know that would be enough to make me want to avoid the guy." He picked up his guitar and strummed a sequence of soothing chords. "Don't you think the bad day you both had might be making all this seem worse than it is?"

"No." The bond-friends' insistent harmony echoed off the walls of the surrounding buildings.

"What do you think about the shadow, then, since you have all the answers?" Aury turned an annoyed frown toward Altair.

"Don't get mad at me, Princess," he defended himself. "There could have been a lot of things that caused that shadow. A cloud passing over the sun, one of the barn cats--who knows? And Dancer is a high strung pony. Nobody should know that better than you. I'm just saying you might be overreacting."

Identical scowls darkened the faces of Rigel and Aury. The boy replied, "Maybe you're partly right. I still think there is something going on around here, but all the other trouble today might be causing us to overreact."

Clairvoyant gazed thoughtfully at the Princess. "We can't dismiss the possibilities," he said as he stood. "We'll have to be careful, watchful. Aury, why don't you and I talk to your father and Clarion after dinner tonight?"

The Princess looked up at him and nodded. "I suppose that's all we can do right now."

"And speaking of dinner," Voy cast his gaze toward the place where the sun had disappeared. Rays of lingering light streaked skyward from the horizon, outlining the indigo shadows of cloud with blood-red lace. "We'd better get back to the palace. You got in trouble this morning and were an hour late for classes this afternoon. The last thing you need right now is to be late for dinner." He stretched out a long arm and, grasping the Princess's hand, pulled her to her feet.

She turned to Rigel and Altair and rolled her eyes heavenward. "We'll talk about it more tomorrow. Riding lessons in the morning?"

The dark youth nodded. "Eight sharp--don't be late. And Aury. . . . "

"What?" Her eyes sparkled with tender emotions when they met the look of concern in his.

"Be careful."

***


The modest home of the StableMaster perched on the outskirts of the complex, within view of the foaling sheds where newborns and their dams slept in plush straw-lined stalls. Darkness had settled over the fleecy landscape, shading the clouds a luminous blue in the moonlight. Soft music floated from the open windows of the stone cottage, and its interior was filled with the wonderful aromas that lingered from the family's dinner.

"So, Altair, how is that new song coming along?" Raven asked as she entered the sitting room, where her family lounged with full stomachs. She draped a damp dishtowel over a ladderback chair, and perched upon the caned seat. Thick, shoulder length tresses gleamed blue- black in the moonlight that fell through the window beside her, and her silver-blue eyes sparkled with pride as she gazed at her talented son.

Altair answered her fond smile with one of his own. "Pretty good, Ma. I'm having a little trouble with the bridge. So far nothing I've tried feels quite right, but I'll get it." His fingers made a sudden shift of gears, and a lively tune stirred the air of the cottage.

Zale looked up from the book he was reading. "That's a fun one, Altair. Did you write that?"

The youngster laughed. "I think it might have just written itself. I've never heard it before, either."

Rigel, his lean body curled upon an enormous throw cushion in the corner, couldn't resist a proud smile as he watched his brother's talented hands master the guitar. The rose-colored cat in his lap stood and stretched and kneaded his thighs before settling back down with a throaty rumble.

"Ouch, Primrose. Those claws are sharp." He scratched the dainty feline behind the ears and her purr increased its volume.

Raven gazed at her dark son, her face a mask of concern. "I think that's the first thing I've heard from you all evening, Rigel." Her tones were touched with empathic understanding, and she winced when her husband cleared his throat in annoyance and shifted in his chair.

The boy's answering glance was thankful, but shaded with worry. "I had a rough day. Sorry if I've been moody."

His mother's crystal laughter caressed his ears. "Dear, if you weren't moody, you wouldn't be Rigel," she teased affectionately. "What's been bothering you? And don't tell me it's just today's trouble between your father and yourself. I can sense something else."

Rigel shifted position, forcing Primrose into another circle-and-knead routine to restore her resting place to her liking. Emotions battled within his soul. He wanted to tell his mother everything--the eerie feelings, the shadow, and how his heart ached over the unaccepting attitude everyone held toward his friendship with the Princess. The dark glare his father cast his way stopped the words as they rose in his throat. "It isn't important. Never mind."

The dusky youth reached a thought across the distance to Aury's mind, and felt her touch back with gentle relief at the contact. She was upset and concerned, her thoughts occupied with some important business. Rigel guessed that she and Voy were discussing the appearance of the mysterious shadow with her parents and Clarion.

The evening in the StableMaster's home progressed in awkward silence. Zale was cold toward his son, still angry over the inconvenience the boy had caused him. Later, as the twins climbed the stairs to take themselves to bed, Rigel could hear his mother's musical voice from below begin the inevitable conversation.

"Zale, don't you think you're being a little hard on Rigel?"

Rigel closed his mind on his parents as he closed the bedroom door on the world. He was tired. The day's unending series of minor disasters had drained his strength. He went to the window and basked in the cool, soothing breeze that touched his face. The moon hung in the star-spangled sky in a gleaming crescent, lying on its back to smile down at him. It bathed the boy's dark features with its opalescent beams as if trying to comfort the ache in his soul.

Primrose was already settling on the youngster's neatly made bed, and Altair had shed his clothes and buried himself under the covers when Rigel turned to his own night-time ritual. The youngster undressed, and savored the coolness of the sheets as he slid between them, careful not to disturb the sleeping cat.

"You all right?" His brother's sleepy voice drifted from somewhere deep within the mound of tousled sheets on the other bed.

Rigel didn't answer for a moment, and when he did his voice was husky with fatigue and worry. "I guess so. I can't get that shadow out of my mind."

The covers moved and a hand appeared upon their edge, pulling them aside to reveal pleasant features etched with concern. "You're making too much of this, Rigel. I'm sure you are." The boy's tones were comforting rather than admonishing, and his expression was soft with fondness. "Try to get a good night's sleep. Things always seem better in the morning."

Jet eyes held pale in an unspoken exchange of thanks. "I suppose you're right. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day."

Altair sounded ready to relinquish his hold on the waking world when he spoke, and his next words came through a yawn. "You know what your problem is, brother?"

"No, what?"

"You think too much."

Rigel would have replied, but the softening of his twin's breathing told him that Altair had succumbed to sleep. Exhausted, Rigel performed the routine that had been his last waking act every night for the past eleven years. As he closed his eyes and sleep came upon him, he reached out his mind to Aury. She was waiting for him, and as he touched her he knew that the day's events had drained her as well. Their thoughts blended, and their souls held tightly to one another as the bond-friends let slumber overtake them. Minds locked, they slept, and together they dreamed.

"Aury!" Rigel cried aloud and sat upright in bed.

Primrose meowed in annoyance and jumped to the floor. She licked a shoulder and mumbled a feline complaint. The boy grabbed in panic for the Princess's mind, ignoring his brother's sleepy, "What's wrong with you?"

A Dreamsharing of the day of Aury's birth had, as often before, passed before the mind's eye of both youngsters in sleep. Once again Rigel's toddler mind was locked with that of the unborn Princess. Once again he relived the frightened panic he had felt as the baby's passage into the world began. He experienced the crushing sensations--the fear of being forced from a bed of warmth and security into the cold, glaring light. Rigel tried to run to the castle. He could feel the firm but loving hands that stopped him--three times they stopped him--and placed him in his room. "My Baby," he cried, "Something's hurting my Baby!"

His parents had left him alone, closing the door securely behind them. Little had they suspected that the door would not be their son's sole exit from his bedroom. He was only three years old, and had shown them no outward signs of unusual power.

He was crying, frightened. Loneliness and terror assaulted his toddler mind from the direction of the palace. Fear and pain. Cold air on wet skin. She was being rubbed and jostled, then bundled into something soft. For a long time he cried, wanting to go to her, afraid of all the giant hands and faces that surrounded her. Finally she was alone--wrapped in softness--wrapped in fear.

"I'm coming, Baby," he called out in his small, clear voice--and vanished.

The baby was crying--crying into the air and crying into his mind. Her lonely fear encompassed him and tears streamed down his soft cheeks. Rigel went to the cradle and peered down at the infant that lay there, red-faced and frightened. She was so beautiful, so soft--and he stroked her mind with his love. As his small hands touched her, and his toddler's arms lifted the tiny bundle to press her against his heart, the baby's cry quieted to soft sobbing and then ceased. Contentment replaced her fears, and he felt her soak up the love he projected. Neither he nor his baby would ever again know loneliness.

Rigel hugged the tiny Princess to him, basking in the wondrous bond that united his soul to hers, and carried her carefully into a corner of the nursery. Peace and tranquility surrounded them, toddler and newborn, cuddled together amid a fluffy heap of stuffed animals.

Rigel and Aury waited together for the usual conclusion of their dream. The King would enter the nursery, see the StableMaster's small son with his newborn daughter asleep in his lap, and fly into a rage. Queen Aleia--pale and weak from childbirth--would enter the room, crying, and plead with her husband to let the child stay. The tiny Princess Auria would be wrestled from Rigel's arms, and Rigel dragged roughly from the room.

The dream's natural end never came. Icy hands appeared from nowhere, and snatched the infant from the child's lap. The baby screamed, red-faced with fear, and vanished. Rigel stood alone in the nursery, sobbing. His terrified mind reached for his tiny friend and found her nowhere. . . .

The terror of the nightmare had awakened Aury. Her spirit trembled in panic, her heart raced with fear. "Rigel, I'm scared!"

He darted from his bed and threw his robe about him.

"I'm coming, Aury," he reassured, and vanished in a sparkling flash. He could hear his brother's confused voice fade into the distance as he traversed time and space to his bond-friend's side.

Rigel rematerialized in the Princess's elaborate bedroom. He was greeted by emerald eyes opened wide in a terrified face. He rushed to her side, grabbed the hands that were stretched toward him, and sat on the edge of her bed. "Are you okay? Stars, Aury, I thought someone had taken you."

"Me, too," she whispered with a shaky voice, and tears brimmed to overflowing. "But it was just a dream. Rigel, it was just a dream, wasn't it?"

He put an arm around her and she laid her head against his shoulder. Rigel pressed all the comfort he could raise within himself through the physical barriers and into her trembling soul. "Just a dream, starshine."

"But it seemed so real." She sniffed back the frightened tears that would not stop, and accepted the handkerchief Rigel pulled from the top drawer of her nightstand.

"It's okay, Aury. It's okay," he soothed, rocking her. "It must be all the worries from yesterday. They just followed us into sleep. That's all."

She nodded and tried to relax, grasping at his attempts to comfort her fear. "Voy and I talked to Father, Momma and Clarion."

"What did they say?" Her chin was tilted toward him and he searched her face in the pale moonlight. He could see the patterns etched in her irises, and feel her breath upon his cheek. Rigel pressed the warmth of their closeness into her thoughts and gave her slender shoulders a squeeze. Aury's troubled expression calmed as she leaned into the security of his presence. He felt the small fingers relax their grip on his hand as her spirit nestled comfortably into his.

"What I thought they would. What Altair said," she informed him, shaking her head. "It's our imagination getting carried away because we're upset over all the trouble that happened."

"No one believed you?" His lips tightened in an annoyed line that made him strongly resemble his father.

The Princess yawned, and Rigel settled her back onto her pillow, retaining his gentle hold on her hand.

"Momma told Father that it wouldn't hurt to place a watch on the palace just in case. To alert the guards--tell them to be extra watchful and report anything unusual. Father said that was nonsense. That if there was any danger in the air, there were enough people in the palace with precognitive powers that someone would have felt it."

Rigel considered the logic of the King's words. "I hadn't thought of that. Clairvoyant and your mother didn't feel anything definite. If anyone would know something was up, it would be them."

"You would think so, wouldn't you? I didn't get any strong feelings until that shadow, either. But when I saw that. . . . "

"Did you tell them about your feelings when the shadow appeared?"

Aury nodded. "Father said that precog powers don't normally develop until the body is mature. He says I'm just overreacting."

Rigel's thoughts shadowed his expression with doubt. "What about Voy? He's not done growing yet, and he's had strong foreknowledge since he was real little."

"Clairvoyant's different. You know that." The Princess's voice drifted through the drowsy fog that was overtaking her.

"Mmmm . . . I suppose." He thought for a moment on the fact that Aury was just as different as the apprentice mage. If the rules did not apply to Clairvoyant, it was likely that they would not apply to the Princess, either. To voice that, however, would only worry her more. He carefully blocked the thought, and dropped the subject. "You're really tired, and I'm feeling it, too. I guess I should go back home to bed--before someone catches me in here."

"That's all we'd need," Aury agreed. Tired eyes slitted, and looked up at him beseechingly. Rigel could feel the apprehension that still tainted her thoughts. "But could you stay just until I fall asleep? I know it was just a nightmare, but. . . . "

"All right, starshine." He smiled and gave the small hand enfolded in his a squeeze. "I'll sit here till you're sleeping."

Aury went silent. Her breathing softened as she relaxed, and her fingers loosened their grip. Rigel watched as the moonlight bathed her delicate features in its milky glow and sparkled off the iridescent highlights in her hair. His heart ached with worry and his thoughts were filled with concern, but he masked that from her mind. He projected instead feelings of security and love, and felt her respond with affection even as she drifted into slumber. When she was asleep, the boy extracted his hand from her grip, and tucked the covers snugly around his little Princess.

He sent a quiet "Good night" into her dreaming mind and returned to his own home and his own bed.

As he slid between his blankets, he heard Altair's groggy voice ask with annoyance, "What the heck was that all about?"

"Nothing," Rigel replied as his head sank into the softness of his pillow and Primrose snuggled into place in the crook of his arm. "It was just a bad dream."

"Or was it?" The youngster's mind asked itself as it drifted into slumber.