The Dreaming: Dark Star (Book 5)

Liran remembers

Liran lay cold and huddled on the floor, remembering that day he'd arrived in Weywey, after the big storm, when he'd run away from home.

Three years earlier

Liran and Gella arrived slowly at the camp, watching from a distance, the activities of the people walking around outside the tents. The tents themselves had taken an obvious beating from the storm; some had ragged strips of cloth loose and flapping in the wind. It seemed that some animals had also gotten loose and men were running around attempting to gather them up. The chickens, relishing their momentary freedom and a bit wild from the storm, did their best to avoid their captors, but were too hungry to make a real go of it. As he watched, a group of goats broke out from the circle of men and made its way in Liran's direction. Liran, living his whole life with animals, did what came naturally and ran up to meet them, chasing them in a circle back towards the other animals, using Gella's cooperation as an example. As the animals swung back, the men opened up their circle and the renegade troop was reunited with their brothers and sisters. Liran called to Gella, who was already making friends, and the black goat came obediently to him. One man, dark and rough, kept back, walking up to Liran as the other men ushered all the animals into an enclosed area.

"Greetings stranger," he said walking up with his arm extended to shake Liran's hand. When he was closer and had gotten a good look, he continued, "Ayah, you're but a young one. You're with the animals, I say. Ayah. Thanks for the help there stranger. What's your name? I'm Paul."

Liran shook the man's hand, doing his best to hold himself up mature and proud. He was aware that he probably looked dreaded after a week walking through the desert. "I'm Liran," he responded, nodding his head.

The dark, dirty and tattered man hesitated briefly before pulling his hand away, staring with penetrating eyes into Liran's. After stepping back a pace, he looked Liran up and down, inspecting the bag on his shoulder and glancing at Gella who mewed softly, chewing her cud. "You come at the right time, Son," he said, glancing over briefly to make eye contact. The two walked in silence towards the camp, as if they had already said everything they needed to.

When they reached the first tent on the outskirts, the man said, "If you need a place to stay, there's no private tents this time of year—we've taken most of them down for the summer. Not usually any guests coming this time of year. But you can share with Thir." He pointed in the direction of a group of tents on the other side of a large compound. "Come by here later and ask for me and I'll give you some work if you're looking for it. Good-day, Liran." And then he ducked into the tent nearest them.

Liran turned towards the tents Paul had been pointing to and walked over to them, Gella tight at his side, alarmed by all the strange people and smells. Dogs could be heard barking and fighting somewhere outside the camp and the entire place was littered with trash.

"Thir," he said out loud and waited. Nothing. "Thir," he repeated, a bit louder. Still nothing. Just as he was about to leave, a black-haired head popped out of the tent. In the seconds it took for the long, black haired head to lift itself up to face him, Liran knew it was a beautiful woman. By the time her dark brown almond eyes looked up into his, Liran had already decided it was the most beautiful woman he'd ever met. She couldn't be that much older than him either. A buzzing noise crowded his head, making it hard to hear what she said. He knew his face was beet red when he mumbled something unintelligible.

"What?" she asked, obviously confused to see a mumbling stranger outside her tent.

"Thir..." he coughed.

"Thir? Are you looking for Thir's tent?" She said this as if she were talking to a child or a slow person.

"Ayah. Yes." He managed to get out, enthralled by her lips and her pale, smooth skin.