Prologue

Cay knew it was a dream but could not escape from it. Lehoia Pass: It was thirst and heat and fear. The sound of tattered flags clapping in the constant wind; the black shadows and burning sun; the orange rocks streaked with red; the smell of blood. He felt again the terror and grief and rage, sickening in their intensity. Worst of all, the awful sense of responsibility, and the loneliness of knowing no one would help him with what he had to do.

The dream—the memory—progressed as it always did until a soft, deep voice murmured his name, and he woke in darkness, with Adrio stroking his hair from his sweating face. He turned his head and tucked his cheek against Adrio's neck, breathing deep with relief.

It's over. That's all over now.

In his dreams, Muntegri was always winter-gray, snow-heavy clouds rolling across the sky. And Lehoia Pass was a brilliant, pitiless summer. And now, awake, he remembered that Lucenequa was his home. Lucenequa, where the air was soft and sweet against the skin. A land of frequent warm rains, good soil for gardens, and gentle misty skies, pale blue like cloth faded into softness from washing.

He had endured—survived—many sudden changes in his life. His home city of Turla in Muntegri had erupted in violent revolution. He'd fled the city, hidden in a southbound wagon. His parents died in blood; his sister, skinny as a weed and so sick with fear and grief she could or would not speak, had been his responsibility. He had endured sorrow and fear and a scathing rage, and survived. And then he found a home in Lucenequa, in the golden city of Valette, in the arms of a husband who loved him.

"What do you dream about?" whispered Adrio.

"Hm?" Denial came automatically to his lips. "I don't think I was."

"You were making noises."

"Really? I don't remember."

A kiss on his shoulder. "Was it the riots in Turla?"

"Perhaps." Cay snuggled deeper into the bed. "I really don't remember. Let's go back to sleep."

"Cay." Adrio's voice was grave. "Please. You know there's nothing I wouldn't do to ease you, if only you would tell me."

"Don't be so anxious, love." Cay found Adrio's hands and squeezed them in the darkness. "I think it is you who are distressed tonight. Perhaps you're having nightmares, not me." He brought one of Adrio's hands to his lips and brushed kisses onto his fingertips. "Why don't you tell me what I can do to ease you?"