The next day everyone spent the morning preparing for the wedding of Ethan and Tressa. The clearing where we had eaten the night before was filled with bunches of wildflowers gathered from the woods. The smells of delicious food being cooked for the wedding feast floated through the forest. Everyone was feeling giddy with excitement.

  When the sun peeked through the leaves of the trees directly overhead, the Rebels gathered to witness the joining of the two young lovers. At the base of Emilia’s tree was an archway of wild roses. Robert stood in front of it on a raised pedestal, waiting with Ethan for Tressa to join them. Emilia, Keegan, Donavan, and I had been given places of honor near the front.

  I could feel that everyone was excited and happy, but with a slight undercurrent of sadness, and I knew that many were thinking of other family members or of the dangerous times that were facing the young couple.

  I began to get nervous about the exchange, afraid that I would be overwhelmed with the emotions of the crowd the moment I let any in.

  The emotions around me surged, and I turned with the others to watch Tressa descend from a tree house on the far side of the clearing.

  She was wearing a simple gown of white with silver needlework along the edges. A wreath of flowers sat atop her short hair. I heard gasps and knew from the emotions swirling around me that few of these people had ever seen Tressa looking so dressed up. She had eyes only for Ethan.

  Tressa joined Ethan at the front of the clearing, and Robert led them in a ceremony that was a lot like those I had been to in the real world, except of course, for my part at the end.

  When Ethan and Tressa had exchanged vows and rings, Robert said, “Tressa and Ethan have asked the Trader to do an Exchange.”

  I took Robert’s place in front of the couple. Emilia had instructed me on how to proceed. “As a sign of their great love and trust for one another, Ethan and Tressa will open themselves to one another completely. Every emotion of each will be revealed to the other. Nothing will remain hidden. Do you both wish to proceed?” I asked.

  “We do,” they replied together.

  I took their hands into mine, closing my eyes. I didn’t know if that was protocol, but I had to do it in order to concentrate enough to do this exchange. Carefully, I let my guard down, just enough so that I could feel the emotions of Tressa and Ethan.

  Tressa was so full of joy, it bubbled out of her like a fountain. She had hoped and dreamed about this day for a long time, and it had turned out to be better than she had ever imagined. She loved Ethan intensely and deeply. He made her feel protected, treasured, and alive.

  Ethan’s love for Tressa was just as powerful. He would give his life for Tressa without a moment’s thought. All he wanted in the world was to keep her safe and make her happy. He was amazed that she would choose to be with him and believed her to be the most beautiful person in the universe.

  I took my time, allowing myself to feel all of what each was feeling, completely and separately. Then, very carefully, I pulled the emotions from each of them, ever so slowly draining them both until I knew that they were completely devoid of feeling. No emotions were left in either.

  Cautiously, more gently than I ever had before, I pushed the emotions back into the opposite person. When I finished, I opened my eyes.

  Tressa and Ethan were gazing into each other’s eyes, and a great surge of love burst from both of them. I grasped Robert’s shoulder to steady myself. I decided to do one more thing for the couple and I created a sort of open circuit between the two of them, allowing their emotions to pass continuously back and forth between one another. It felt like the right thing to do.

  “You may kiss the bride,” I said quickly. I could tell that they would not be able to keep from doing so for much longer. They both looked at me, slightly puzzled, and I realized this was not a traditional part of Wendellian weddings. But they glanced at me only for a moment before turning back to each other.

  Whistles and whoops broke out as the couple kissed each other, rather passionately. I was still allowing the emotions to pass back and forth between them, and suddenly, I felt the circuit slipping away from me. I thought that I was just too exhausted to keep the flow going between the two, but when I let go, it remained. I could feel the emotions flowing back and forth between the two of them, totally apart from me.

  No one noticed, not even Tressa and Ethan, but I looked at Emilia in alarm. She saw my look and waved me over to her. Robert went back to his place as I went to stand next to Emilia. He concluded the ceremony, but I didn’t hear what he was saying. I frantically explained to Emilia what had happened.

  “It has been done before,” she whispered to me. “But only by very talented Traders, and only on purpose.”

  “What should I do?” I asked.

  “Speak to the couple. Ask them what they want,” she answered.

  “What if they don’t want it?”

  “Then you will have to find a way to fix it,” she said simply.

  By this time the couple was leading the way towards a long table that had been set up in the clearing. The Dreamers were expected to sit with them, so we followed close behind. Once we had been seated and food had been served, I leaned towards Tressa who was sitting next to me.

  “Tressa,” I began.

  “The exchange is still happening,” she interrupted me in a low voice.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  “Why?” she asked, surprised.

  I wasn’t sure what to say. “Is this… do you want this?” I asked at last.

  “It’s not what we were expecting, but we’re both glad about it,” she replied. “Especially with things the way they are now. It’ll be good to have this connection.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked. “You really want each other to know every single thing you are feeling?”

  Tressa paused for a moment before answering, “Yes. I’m sure that it’ll create challenges, but this is what we want.”

  “Okay,” I said reluctantly. “But if you want it undone, I will try to undo it.”

  She squeezed my hand. “Thank you, Trader.”

  I nodded, but still felt uneasy. I hoped sincerely that I hadn’t done something that would have horrible consequences for the couple or others.

  The wedding festivities continued through the rest of the day. Games were played, gifts were given. Food and drink were plentiful. The people were merry. As the sun went down, fires were lit and the rebels gathered around them, telling stories, laughing, and dancing.

  Several of the men brought out guitars and a violin and began to play a wistful, beautiful tune. Ethan clasped Tressa to himself and the two swayed blissfully to the music. Everyone cheered, and after a few moments many people joined in.

  As the first song drew to a close, the musicians played the last few long notes. Then a drum beat started up, and the music turned into a fast, rolling sort of tune. The people cheered and began a rollicking jig.

  “Come on,” said Keegan, pulling me to my feet.

  I hung back, but he insisted that I join him. We watched the people for a bit, trying to quickly learn the steps.

  “Just follow my lead!” he shouted above the music.

  I laughed as he pulled me into his arms and took me whirling across the clearing past couples who were dancing far more expertly than us. But none seemed to be having as much fun.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Keegan somehow did make my awkward steps look good, and I wondered when and where he had learned to dance. I felt like I couldn’t stop smiling, until I saw the faint darkness beginning to creep across Keegan’s skin. He saw me looking at it, and reached up to tug the collar of his shirt higher, trying to hide it.

  The song ended and people clapped and called for another. Before the music could start, there was a movement at the edge of the trees. Every head turned towards the forest, eyes wary, bodies tense.

  From in between the trees floated a tall, pale woman with hair that was long and blue, flowing freely and parting around pointed ears. From her hair, circling her head, came a silver chain on which was hung a dark red jewel that rested in the middle of her forehead. She was wearing a pale blue gown that seemed to sway in the perfect stillness.

  “May we join you?” she asked. Her voice was beautiful and terrifying all at once.

  Robert stepped forward. “Of course, my lady, and welcome.”

  The lady opened her mouth wide, revealing pointed teeth, and issued a call that sounded like a high, ringing note.

  The sounds of flutes filled the air and the trees were suddenly teeming with people who moved into the clearing from the shadows.

  They were the most interesting group of people I had ever seen. Every color imaginable was represented in their skin and hair and clothes. One woman with dark blue skin and bright pink eyes had vines for hair and was wearing a short, tightly-fitting silver dress.

  Another woman had light purple skin and pure white hair that fluffed away from her face like a lion’s mane. Several glowing humming birds twittered around her head, darting now and then into her hair or up to her dress that was made entirely of flowers.

  Several of the men had claws, and one man seemed to be made entirely of bark and leaves. It was impossible to tell how old any of them were. They all seemed so young and so old at the same time.

  They motioned for the musicians to continue playing. The music started up once more, and the flutes joined in with a reedy, ethereal sound. The colorful people began to dance in an intricate, weaving pattern, each one of them selecting one of the villagers to dance with them.

  “Who are they?” I whispered to Keegan.

  “The Children of the Sparkly Rainbow Woods,” he said in a whisper.

  “Really?” I asked, voice hushed in awe.

  He looked at me incredulously and then laughed. “I have no idea,” he said.

  “They are called the Dreamkeepers,” said Emilia, appearing beside us. “No one really knows who or what they are. They travel in and out of all the dreams, but they are not Dreamwalkers. Even the oldest Dreamwalkers do not know where they come from. It is a great honor and a good portent to have them appear in a dream. You should consider yourselves fortunate.”

  Just then, one of the Dreamkeepers approached me and held out his hand. He towered above me, wearing rusty-colored pants and no shirt, revealing a sculptured upper body with green skin covered in swirling black patterns. He had a young face with lips that were black and teeth that were white and straight. The whites of his eyes were covered with the same swirling black marks that were on his skin, surrounding dark green irises. They looked ancient. Pointed antlers pushed their way through his dark black, shaggy hair.

  I hesitated, then put my hand in his.

  As soon as my skin touched his, the world seemed to come alive. Everything was clearer, sharper. I could see each leaf on each tree, even though it was dark by now. I could hear breezes winding through the forest and the sounds of little animals curling themselves in sleep. The earthy smells of the woods, the crisp smell of the air, and the smoky smell of the fire all tickled my nose.

  As the Dreamkeeper pulled me towards the dancers my power seemed to flare. Every emotion imaginable swirled into me from the one holding my hand, all magnified far beyond anything I had ever felt. And underneath them all was magic.

  It was the magic that fills your heart when you see a beautiful sunset, or hear an achingly sad piece of music, or smell the earth when it has just started to rain. It was the magic of reading a good story, of hoping that there really are fairies and pixies and dryads and river gods.

  With him holding my hand, the pattern of the dance seemed as familiar to me as walking across my own bedroom. The music seemed to be a part of me, seeping into every corner of my soul, moving me in the pattern of the dance. We wove back and forth, around other dancers, under their upraised arms.

  The music played faster and faster, and soon the dance turned into a frenzy of exquisite motion. The drums beat more loudly, and my body trembled with the rhythm. Everything around me turned into a blur as we whirled about, never missing a step in the intricate pattern.

  The music swelled to a wild height. The antlered boy pulled me to himself, gripped my arms, and floated away from the ground. We rose into the air, twirling around and around. Far below us the music continued, slowing from its crescendo until it faded away, and the people cheered.

  We continued soaring into the air. Around us the air grew frosty, but I didn’t feel cold. The stars seemed to float towards us like twinkling diamonds. Colorful lights swirled through the sky, mirroring the pattern created by the dancers, and still we rose.

  “I am Story,” the Dreamkeeper said. As soon as I heard his name, I knew him. I knew that he liked the scent of butterflies and the taste of the color blue. He enjoyed the cold of moonbeams and the sound the mountains made. He could sing to trees and make them grow, and whisper to flowers and make them bloom forever.

  There was also a darker side to him. He had stolen an old man’s treasure, and broken a girl’s heart. Once his careless actions had led to the death of an entire world, and he could not forgive himself for that.

  “I am Maria,” I finally replied.

  He smiled. “That is your name,” he said. “It is not who you are.”

  “What do you mean? Who am I?” I asked.

  “That is something that you must learn for yourself,” he said. “But maybe I can help you.” He bent towards me, tilting my face up to his with his hand. I shut my eyes and felt him gently press his lips against each of my closed eyelids.

  Each of my eyelids flared in a moment of burning, and then grew icy cold. I opened my eyes and looked at him in wonder. We were floating gently back towards the forest. As our feet touched the ground, he lifted my hand and kissed it. Once again, I felt a flash like flames where his lips touched my skin, followed by ice.

  He turned away from me and rejoined the dance by himself. My head was spinning, and I felt unsteady on my feet. Everything still looked sharp and clear, but now there was something different about the people as well. I could see them more clearly, but it was more than that. I could also see who they really were, who they were meant to be.

  The clearing was filled with men and women who were warriors. But they were also poets who could weave words, and farmers who could coax living things from the earth, and craftsmen who could shape wood and metal into something beautiful.

  I saw Keegan dancing with one of the Dreamkeepers, and he seemed to be made of fire, one that struggled and sputtered underneath a net of darkness. It was wrapped tightly around him, restricting who he was supposed to be - a warrior who was powerful, courageous, a master fighter and leader of other fighters.

  I turned away from the clearing and saw Donavan. I knew in that moment that he was born to be a king. He radiated authority and command. He was full of the strength and power, not only to lead men, but to rule them.

  And he was beautiful. Glittering flames seemed to flare from his skin like solar bursts, flickering and swirling all around him.

  He walked towards me, flames streaming behind him. I took a step towards him and stumbled. He caught me as I fell and pulled me to my feet.

  “I think that you are faerie drunk,” he said, laughter in his voice. He took my elbow and steered me to a chair by the fire.

  I leaned forward, my elbows on my knees and noticed a leafy tattoo snaking up my arm from the spot on my hand where Story had kissed it.

  “What did the Dreamkeeper do to you?” Donavan asked, touching the tattoo on my arm.

  “I’m not sure,” I replied, looking around the clearing. By this time all of the mysterious Keepers had gone. I leaned against the back of the chair, closing my eyes.

  “Maria, your eyes,” Donavan said, alarm filling his voice.

  “What?” I asked wearily, forcing my eyes to open.

  “Close them.”

  I closed my eyes, feeling sleep threatening to overwhelm me.

  “It looks like you have eyes on your eyelids. They are dark green and have swirls around them.”

  “He kissed them,” I said wearily.

  “I see,” he said, but I barely heard him as I drifted off to sleep.

  As I slept, I saw myself, at home, in my bed, the thousands of strands of light tethering me somehow to my body. Then, just as it had happened in the mountains, I saw a woman in a cave, looking into a pool of water as images swirled to the surface. This time, though, she looked up at me, examining my face.

  “Is this the one?” she asked. Her voice was strong and somehow mesmerizing, like a beautiful song that you want to hear over and over. I didn’t understand what she was asking, but I wanted with all of my being to be able to answer her.

  “She is.”

  I whirled around to see Emilia standing behind me. She looked different, somehow. A pattern of blue dots covered her face and hands and her hair was a dark purple-red color.

  “Come here, child.”

  I walked eagerly towards the other woman. She looked very much like Emilia, with the same tattoos and hair color. “Look around you,” she commanded. “What do you see?”

  I looked around. The cave we were in looked man-made. It was too square to be naturally formed. The smooth sides and ceilings were covered with red, black, and white swirls.

  I told the woman what I saw, and she nodded, her eyes thoughtful. She waved her hand around the room, a look of concentration in her eyes.

  “What do you see now?” she asked. I looked around once more. The cave seemed different somehow, but the difference was not noticeable enough that I could say what it was. I voiced this thought aloud.

  “Good,” she replied.

  “She was with a Keeper tonight,” said Emilia.

  “Then it may not last,” said the woman.

  “It will last,” said Emilia, with conviction.

  “Then be sure to keep her safe. Protect her with your life.”

  “What…” I began, but the cave had disappeared. I had just a glimpse of myself sleeping in bed before I jerked awake in Wendellia.