It wasn’t until lunchtime that he caught up with Yrial. She had beat him in line and was already seated at their usual spot when he hurried over with his tray.
“I had another dream last night,” he said quietly to her as he slid into his seat.
She looked over at him, her eyes alive. “What was it?”
“I was playing marbles,” he began. “I know. It’s weird. But I was playing marbles, and the game was just about over. All I had to do was nail one more marble, and I’d win. I was a bit nervous, but I knew I could do it. I took a bit longer than normal to line up the shot, to make sure that I wouldn’t make a mistake. Then I flicked my marble in, and it was perfect. Right on course.” He lowered his head and paused for a moment.
“So you got it?” she asked.
“No. Another marble, one with a fiery red center, started rolling, and it intercepted my marble. It made me miss the one I was aiming for.”
“Okay,” she said, grinning, “so what under the three heavens of Ashtar does that mean?”
“I’m not sure, but I think maybe it’s a warning. I need to watch out for somebody. Somebody is going to try to take me out, and I have to be ready.”
Her eyes flew instinctively to Lewserf, eating with his group of friends across the room. “Fiery red, huh?”
“Yeah,” Eloa said. “Fiery red and determined to stop me.”
They ate their lunch in silence. As Eloa was about to get up, Yrial caught his hand. “Eloa,” she said. Her voice wavered.
“What is it?” Eloa asked.
“Do you think, maybe,” she said. “Maybe could you try to have a dream for me?”