Betrys Torin – (bee + trice) tor + in
Iseult Orna – (ee + solt) or + na
Alana Orna – (ah + lah + nah) or + na
Chapter One
Spiderus Mansion, Dalcon City, Planet Dalcon
“Goodnight,sweetheart.”BetrysTorin kissed the top of her son’s head.
Ricci’s young face glowed with an impish grin as he slid beneath the white covers of his sleep-bed.“Good night, Mama.Don’t be sad.Everything will turn out all right.”
Her breath caught, but she forced her lips to kick up at the corners.“I love you, Ricci.”She ruffled his hair, gave him another quick kiss on the cheek and retreated to her quarters with mere seconds of her allocated deadline remaining.
She hated her situation, hated it with a passion, yet despite her constant planning, her scrimping and saving, her search for alternatives, freedom was no closer.
Trapped.
Betrys prowled the interior of her room, her heart beating faster than normal.How could everything turn out all right when she’d made such a colossal mistake and placed her son and herself in the way of inescapable danger?
With no answers, she paced herself to exhaustion.In the distance, a timepiece struck to mark the cycle segments.It grew late and she needed to rise early to prepare things for Leo Mitchell’s visit to Iseult, her employer.
Leo.
The backs of her eyes stung as she shrugged off her robe and climbed onto her sleep-bed.At the last second, she reached for her oracle cards and did a quick three-card spread.The door to romance was the first card she drew and a hoarse laugh of disbelief shot up her throat.
“Goddess, please.You’re playing a joke on me.”Romance.Any man in her life belonged to Iseult.Even her son, until she managed to extricate herself from Iseult’s web.
In disgust, she thrust away her oracle cards.“Lights off.”
Her small room plunged into darkness, and she pulled the covers over her nakedness.She closed her eyes and forced herself to relax, to sink into the arms of sleep.
A bright swirl of colors drew her like a beacon.The hues pulsed and glowed, and she found herself enticed to follow.
Not awake.
She knew she was sleeping, but she’d never experienced anything like this before.
Scarlet red.Emerald green.Royal purple.Cobalt blue.
The vibrant colors should’ve clashed, should’ve hurt her head with their wild, crazy swirling, but instead, she found herself stumbling toward the pulsating ball.It stopped moving at the top of a hill by a lone tree.The ball split into separate colors, and each one pulsed.A crossroad, she realized.
Betrys studied the four different colors and chose the green one.The instant the decision firmed in her mind, the other balls blinked from sight.The green broke into swirls and strands, and they wound around her arms and legs, her torso, guiding her to the right.
Betrys found herself outside a bedroom, looking through a window at a huge sleep-bed.The covers were turned back as if waiting for the occupants to arrive.And thereweretwo people because the sweet perfume of flowers, the soft music, and the bottle of nectar-wine nestled in a chill-sleeve hinted at a couple.
The door to romance.
Part of her mind wanted to snigger at the impossibility, yet a sense of wonder held her in thrall.
A dreamscape.
Spoken of in hushed tones by her people.At least before the war wiped out most of her race.Not every person experienced the dreamscape.The ability skipped generations, sometimes more than one.Some families never received the gift.Her grandmother had been a skilled dream walker, but the talent usually manifested during the first years of sexual maturity, Betrys thought in confusion.
She’d married, had a child, and not glimpsed a single dream during the years prior to her union.The power had passed her by, and the lack of hadn’t mattered since her marriage made her happy.
Drawn forward, Betrys padded through the open door and scanned the seductive scene.Her heart thumped extra hard while her mind probed the possibilities, the signs of the future contained in the dreamscape.
