The Keys to the Realms (The Dream Stewards) by Roberta Trahan Page B

practical decision under the circumstances , but there were days when Glain resented being forced to hold onto her suffering. The strain would weaken her if she let it.
    Two deep, slow breaths helped to quiet the pain. She wanted to find those blasted scrolls, more now than ever, if only to bring some small part of this nightmare to an end. Again she focused her mind on the scrolls. If she tried very hard, perhaps she might even envision the words on the pages.
    “Think on the vellum,” Glain murmured to herself. “Think hard on the seal and the script.”
    “Alwen had you teach me the finding spell in this very room.”
    “Good Gods, Ariane!” Glain had been working with her back to the door and was caught unaware. Ariane had startled her silly, completely fracturing her concentration.
    “Do you remember?” Ariane continued, oblivious to the disruption she had caused. “The magic went wild.”
    Ariane’s oblivious rambling annoyed Glain nearly as much as the reminder. “Yes, I remember, and no, it did not go wild.”
    Ariane laughed. “What would you call it, then?”
    Glain bristled at her friend’s insensitivity. Had Ariane forgotten that it was in her defense that Glain had overreacted in the first place? Besides, Glain had not actually lost control of that spell; it had been accidentally fueled by her anger. Perhaps her pride as well—but Glain was wiser now. She turned her back on Ariane and tried to pick up where she had left off. “Hush now, or leave me in peace so I can work.”
    “Cupboard doors banged and books went flying across the room,” Ariane continued, as if she were regaling an audience with a dramatic reading. “If I recall, even the floor stones shifted.”
    “There are half a dozen spell rooms on this floor,” Glain said through clenched teeth. “There must be at least one left for you to search.”
    “Perhaps I should stay”—Ariane continued to poke at her—“in case you need my help.”
    Exasperated with the taunting and still piqued by Ar ia ne’s indiscretion with Hywel the day before, Glain lost her composure . She spun around, almost eager for confrontation. “The sun will set in the south before I need your help, Ariane. And who are you to mock me? How many times have I rescued you from your mistakes? I may count you as my friend, but when it comes to duty and skill, we are not equals. You would do we ll to remember that.”
    Glain might have regretted her harsh words, were it not for the unexpected flash of defiance that illuminated Ariane’s usually dull chestnut eyes. What had come over her these last several days? Ariane was a shy, slightly awkward girl who rarely spoke, and certainly never in disrespect or contempt.
    “Ariane,” Ynyr’s firm baritone interrupted from the doorway, “Euday needs your help in the scriptorium.”
    There was a fleeting and indecisive moment before Ariane decided to leave, in which Glain was sure she sensed a challenge brewing. At the very least, she had seen the looming shadow of something intentionally left unsaid. It was unsettling.
    Ariane had barely passed into the hallway before Ynyr rolled his eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh. “I will never understand why you take up for that halfling.” He propped his shoulder against the doorjamb, with one leg crossed over the other and his arms over his chest. “She is not as deserving as you like to thin k.”
    “Everyone deserves a chance to become their best.” Glain turned back to the wand-rough, more disgruntled than ever and equally as determined. “A halfling witch is still a witch.”
    “If she chooses to be,” Ynyr argued. “She could also choose to suppress her magical side, to live among plain folk and never be noticed as anything other than ordinary.”
    “Doesn’t that make her choice to embrace her magic all the more admirable?” Glain countered. “It is certainly the more difficult path.”
    Ynyr shrugged. “One could say it takes courage to choose to be