Vidalia Twinleaf awakened from her tense sleep.

  She blushed slightly, remembering her dream of the previous night. Then she shook her head and extracted herself carefully from the threadbare sheets that had tangled themselves around her body.

  But the tinge of pink did not leave her cheeks.

  Tybalt will be with us soon, she thought, smiling. Her tail wagged at the thought.

  Then she wrinkled her nose. As she moved, she could feel the moisture between her thighs from the rather intense dream. Now she shifted, and she realized that she could smell her own scent. She couldn’t help but wonder if others would notice it too.

  After last night… Her face turned a deeper shade of pink, and she did not finish the thought.

  Perhaps she could find an opportunity to bathe in the stream sometime this morning.

  Even if I can’t, I suppose I won’t be seeing many people over the next few days anyway. Not with the Army so close. Just the family… and Tybalt.

  Vidalia donned her worn sackcloth dress and crawled through the door of her tiny room into the main space of the Twinleaf family’s hut. Then she got to work.

  She put the pot of water over the fire to boil for porridge, swept up the ashes that had accumulated around the fireplace overnight, and set their small, squat table for breakfast. After Vidalia had accomplished another couple of minor chores, she was able to serve her family breakfast.

  Vidalia ladled out porridge into bowls for her Uncle Edmund, her sister Victoria, her cousin Hayden, and lastly a half-portion for herself. Ever since the famine, Vidalia had taken it upon herself to eat smaller portions than the other members of the Twinleaf family. If there wasn’t enough to go around, it only made sense that the frail girl who couldn’t work outside with the rest of them ate less.

  Three years later, there was a noticeable difference between her and her sister.

  “Last night, I dreamed of Tybalt,” Vidalia announced once everyone had taken a first bite of their food. She looked Victoria in the eyes. “He will come for us soon. Every day—”

  “We know what you dream of, Vidalia,” Uncle Edmund interrupted, his suntanned face crinkled slightly in an expression of disgust. “You ought to leave your sister out of it. At least one of you has to keep her head on straight.”

  “You know…?”

  “You moaned in your sleep last night, Vida,” Victoria said in a quiet, awkward voice, shooting their uncle a cold glare. Her voice became gentler. “Just a little bit. Nothing obscene. But the walls are too thin. We know that you dream of important things, too, of course. Things that keep us all safe.”

  Vidalia felt her cheeks burn and turned her gaze down into her mostly uneaten porridge, all her appetite suddenly gone.

  “Important things, yes,” Uncle Edmund huffed. “Sometimes. But I knew your mother like I know myself. Fat lot of good the dreams ever did her.” He sounded resentful, as he often did when he spoke of his late sister—either because he missed her or, depending on the day, he was annoyed that she had died and left him to take care of her two daughters along with his young son.

  “The dreams are magical, though, right, Papa?” asked Hayden. The twelve-year-old boy still understood little of classes and mana—for why should he, when he would likely never have a class and had little cause to attempt to comprehend mana? They were simple peasant farmers. It was only the women in the family who had ever inherited the dream seer class, and then only one in a generation.

  “Just because something’s magical doesn’t mean it’s any good,” the older man replied.

  “My sister’s dreams have saved scores of lives, Uncle,” Victoria said firmly. She touched his arm and added, “Do you want your son to think his cousin is a freeloader?”

  Uncle Edmund frowned, looked slightly chastened, and said nothing.

  Then Vidalia spoke up again, strenuously seeking to avoid any argument with her uncle. “I only mention the visions because if he doesn’t find us, if things evolve in a dangerous way for him, Vicky and I should go and—”

  “Absolutely not!” Uncle Edmund practically roared. “It’s dangerous, and… Andric has firmly forbidden it! He and his boys will be fighting soon. They may have begun already. They have strictly forbidden civilians to venture out unnecessarily. We’re just going to our plot to farm, and then we come straight home. I’ll want you to keep fire to a minimum as well. We can eat our meals cold for a few days, or weeks if need be. You know that the soldiers from the Kingdom are down there in force…”

  “Yes, I know,” Vidalia said, barely holding back her annoyance.

  Talk about telling me what I already know…

  “Oh, yes, your prophesied young man is one of them, correct?”

  “Remember who warned the elders about the Army coming in the first place,” Victoria interjected with quiet insistence.

  “Yes, he is, Uncle,” Vidalia said. “Though he has different goals than the rest of his squad. Please remember, Andric is not chief yet.” She tried to keep her tone as inoffensive as possible. She knew she trod on dangerous ground contradicting the quasi-formal command structure of the mountain beastfolk. Her backside still recalled the last whipping she had received for speaking out of turn on this subject, just a few years ago—when she had thought she was already long past such things. “It’s presumptuous of him to give orders at all. Don’t you ever think, uncle… about how the men of our family used to be chiefs?”

  “Idle recollections of a different time,” Uncle Edmund replied reflexively. But his voice was quieter now. More thoughtful. He spoke more slowly. “Andric may as well be chief. He speaks with his father’s voice. Acts with his father’s complete confidence.”

  “Nothing is certain in this life,” Victoria said in a careful, noncommittal voice.

  “You should both be kissing that young man’s feet,” Uncle Edmund retorted. “Why he has such patience with you, I will never know.”

  “I am good at enforcing patience, uncle,” Victoria said, giving a small smile. “If you are done eating, would you mind taking Hayden with you when you go out? I would like to have a word with my sister alone. I will meet you in our plot in half an hour at most.”

  Uncle Edmund scowled but nodded. He walked over to Victoria and kissed her on the temple.

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  “Perhaps you can talk some sense into your sister,” he muttered, not bothering to lower his voice enough to render it inaudible to Vidalia. “Andric would be a fine match for the two of you.”

  The sisters waited until their uncle had left, and then they resumed their conversation, both speaking more freely.

  “What’s got you so strident?” Victoria asked. “I know you said Tybalt’s close, but you wouldn’t usually test Uncle Edmund’s tolerance by mentioning him at all. You know he doesn’t like humans.”

  “I really should have waited to talk to you alone. I knew how he would react. I was just excited.”

  “What is it you wanted to do, anyway?”

  “We’re going to need to help Tybalt out at some point, probably. So I have these items I need you to pick up from the alchemist’s shop if you can do it before the end of the day. If not, I’ll go myself.”

  “No, no, I’ll do it,” Victoria said, frowning. “Your time is precious. I don’t dream of the future. Just—um, how will I pay? Uncle E isn’t exactly going to be keen on—”

  “I already paid her in trade, months ago,” Vidalia interrupted.

  “What trade? You don’t—”

  “Prophecies! Advance information that a merchant could benefit from.”

  “She assigned a trade value to those?”

  “They helped her increase her profits, so yes. I swear, Vicky, I thought you were the only one in the family who really understood what my powers are for. Who believed in them.”

  “I do.” Victoria paused for a moment, and Vidalia saw on her face that she was remembering something painful. “I just always thought of the way they work on a daily basis as more of an emergency warning system. Extremely important for times like now, of course, but for a shopkeeper?”

  “That’s true enough. It’s gotten more dependable, but I had to dream about the alchemist for two whole months before I got something useful enough to trade for. Very boring. But I’ve been preparing for the next few months for the last few years.”

  Victoria smiled. “You are always talking about this. I guess your more long distance visions are finally all coming true.”

  “The nice ones, hopefully,” Vidalia replied, half-smiling. “So, you’ll help me?”

  “Don’t I always?”

  “You didn’t really back me up with Uncle Edmund…”

  “Uncle Edmund wants us to marry Andric. He’s not making any secret of it now. I don’t think it’s wise to rub his face in this. In your wish for—something else.”

  “Vicky, I love our uncle, he took care of us after Mom and Dad died, he’s a good man, and none of anything I say is meant to deride him—”

  “But?” The single word cut through all of Vidalia’s.

  “But he’s never left this damn mountain!” Years of frustration exploded in her tone. “Not since he was a child! And he’s never wanted to leave. It’s maddening. It’s ridiculous. He’s a grown man, and he spends his life hiding. He has his reasons, I know. But you and I should only follow his advice if we want to emulate his example. If we want to lead his life.”

  “What’s so bad about Uncle Edmund’s life?” Victoria asked softly. “An ordinary life?”

  “What’s so good about it?” Vidalia retorted. “We hide in these mountains, in this desert, like rats, waiting for an exterminator to come kill us off. We grow up expecting half our children to be killed by the Nietian military trying to kick us out of our homes. Probably all our boys. We have barely enough food to eat. And our family, specifically the women in our family, are a laughing stock. You think I don’t know what the people in the village, the people all over the mountain, say about me? About Mom? And Grandma?” She had to stop there, because tears were filling her eyes.

  Damn it, I’m so emotional this morning… How will I persuade Vicky if I can’t control my own feelings?

  “I get it, Vida,” Victoria said softly. “I’ve been letting Andric court me just so we kept that door open, but you know I’m there for you. I’m not closed off to Tybalt, if he’s the right man for us.”

  “Would you really be all right with marrying Andric? Being stuck with him for life?” Vidalia asked. She didn’t believe Victoria would actually choose that if she felt free to follow her own wishes.

  Victoria shrugged. “I don’t know, I’m just working with the options given.”

  “What do you want?” Vidalia asked. “Not what do you think is possible. What do you want?”

  “I want to be safe and cared for,” Victoria said. She sounded embarrassed, and her tail tucked itself between her legs as she spoke. “I want that for you, too, Vida.”

  “You don’t think you can have that and someone better than Andric?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never met your Tybalt.”

  “Neither have I. Not really. I just have visions to go on. But I know him. And I’ve described him to you endlessly. You basically know him too.”

  “I guess you could say that.” Victoria was still noncommittal.

  “Don’t you trust me?” Vidalia asked.

  “Always. I trust your visions, too. They’ve saved people’s lives before.” More softly, she added, “My life. Our whole family’s. But I also remember that you see different possible futures, not one that’s set in stone. I know you’re in love with the man of your dreams. What if he’s a different man than the one you actually meet? Are you sure you’ll love the real man?”

  “I know what I’m getting,” Vidalia insisted. “There are things that differ from the futures I see. But fundamental character attributes don’t tend to change much. Maybe it’s a limit that we living things have, humans and demihumans alike. We’re not good at changing. So Tybalt is still going to be the man I expect him to be.”

  “And what do you want, Vida?” Victoria asked. “From what you’ve described, the future with Tybalt might be great, but it’s also risky. It makes our lives more dangerous, not less. What makes taking a leap of faith with him better than comfortable certainty on our mountain?”

  “I reject the idea that we’re safer if we just bury our heads in the sand here. That’s Uncle Edmund talking. As for what I want—” She allowed herself an arrogant little smile—“the world. At least a chunk of it. Maybe just a little piece. Something that’s ours. A real home, so our sons won’t have to die young, fighting off soldiers telling them to get off the King’s land. So our daughters won’t be widowed young. Because the King is their father, and his kingdom is safe. This mountain, right now, it’s not ours. It doesn’t represent safety or security. That’s something we have to struggle to earn. Except along comes this young man, who promises to fight and struggle beside us, as our partner—and love us too. What does Andric offer by comparison?”

  “Tybalt isn’t competing with Andric,” Victoria said carefully. “Two different life paths are presenting themselves for us to consider. And Tybalt hasn’t promised me anything yet. Hasn’t promised you anything in person, either. I don’t know what his future self will do. You can’t be certain of that either. I am interested in meeting the current Tybalt.”

  “He’ll win you over,” Vidalia said. “You and Uncle Edmund, too.”

  “I hope so,” Victoria replied. “I’ll give him a chance. And I’ll get your stuff from the alchemist.”

  “Thanks, Vicky.”

  “Sorry to give you a hard time,” Victoria said. “I just feel like I need to protect us… Maybe I’ve been listening too much to what other people say.” She gave Vidalia a sad smile.

  The sisters rose from their seats and embraced, and finally, Victoria left.

  But Vidalia knew it was far from the last conversation the sisters would have on this topic.

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