CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The moment the dream morphed into something sinister, I was aware. One of the more peculiar side effects of being a conduit for visions was having a body and mind acutely attuned when reality collided with what would be considered by normal people as other.
Running through the Haven forest with Tham at my side and the wolves at our heels, I could almost breathe again. With every fiber of my being, I clung to the fruitless hope that this was reality and yesterday had been the nightmare. Even as we ran, chuckling about stupid everyday drama from the Academy, the Talon, and of course our collective family, I knew in the pit of my gut it wasn’t real.
The shadow edging into my dream, however, was. Subtle at first, it was a rumble in the distance. A feather brushing the synapses of my mind. A prodding finger testing the waters. I gave no indication I was aware of the intrusion, entranced by the joy of spending time, however imagined, with Tham.
The shadow edged further. My heart raced in my ears, thundering like hooves against packed earth.
What was it? Or rather . . . who?
I leapt over a large rock and grappled Tham right before we turned the bend toward the main path. The two of us toppled toward the brush. He rolled mid-air, at the last minute pulling me against him to absorb the blow of the forest floor. Laughing, the two of us crashed in a tangle of legs and elbows and giggles.
Breathing deep, I relished the scent of him—suede, outdoors and Elven male.
The entity pushed further.
No longer just the sense of someone probing my subconscious mind, the slither of an icy awareness snaked through my skull, down my nape and into my chest.
Tham sat up, his brow pulled tight, the deep furrow between his blue eyes a rare sight. “You need to go, neelan. It’s not safe for you here.”
The warrior’s voice in my mind agreed. I had lingered long enough in fantasy.
Telling myself to wake up, I tried to open my eyes. They wouldn’t open. Whatever it was . . . whoever was inching inside of me had taken hold. I fought against my insides.
No, no, no. This was wrong. Way wrong.
Tham leaned over me, shaking my shoulders. “Wake up, Lexi. Fight.”
My teeth clacked together as Tham shook me harder.
“Go, Lexi. Open your eyes. You must go.”
The slither of icy evil grew as it spread. My vision dimmed, a damp fog covering my mind. I couldn’t breathe, suffocating on the frigid cold as it leached through my lungs into my arms . . . my legs . . . my—
My hands came up as I launched off the bed and landed in a crouch. Wide black eyes fixed on me from a bed the size of a football field. The room was mostly dark, the only light coming from the soft illumination escaping the adjoining bathroom. I sucked oxygen into my heaving lungs. The room was secure. Just me and Coal, sawin’ logs in the guest suite of Rowan’s mansion.
“It’s okay, buddy,” I breathed. In. Out. “Just a bad dream.” I forced myself to straighten, my hands shaking like leaves in a hurricane. I tugged down the front of my shirt and pressed it flat. “Just a bad dream.”
I crawled back under the covers and opened my arms for Coal to cuddle in. Chilled to the marrow, I gave thanks to have my own personal space heater bunking with me. Did all Fire Faery run hot? A few minutes with Coal snuggled against me and my quakes started to settle. After a minute, he pulled back and looked at me. I could read the frustration in his face. He had something to say, but couldn’t get it out there.
“Am I all right?” I asked, taking a guess.
He nodded.
“Yeah. Fine. You? Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
He shook his head, his shaggy ginger hair standing up in every direction like cockerel tails. He still wanted to say something. His lips pressed into a scowl and he growled low in his throat. I propped him up on the pillows and thought about what it must be like to not be able to express myself. No sarcasm. No venting. No way to laugh or yell or tell a joke.
“Do you remember I mentioned my friend, Savage?”
After the confusion drained from his expression, he held his hands wide, then reached high over his head and scowled.
“Yeah, the big, scary warrior who can’t speak.”
He pointed to his mouth and throat, and then shrugged.
“I’m not sure why, exactly. He’s never shared his personal deets and no one has balls big enough to ask.”
He smiled at the mention of balls and I rolled my eyes. “Well, he always wears a spiked dog collar or bandana tied around his throat, but once, after a particularly ugly battle, my sister, Jade, had to take it off so she could heal his neck.”
Coal’s eyebrows disappeared under a fringe of bangs.
“He had a terrible scar from here . . . all the way over to here.” I dragged my fingers across the velvet pile of my mourning band from one side of my throat to the other. “It was a nasty wound. Hamburger. It looked like someone ripped his voice box right out.”
Coal bit on his bottom lip, his gaze locked on mine.
“The reason I brought it up is that when we’re on a mission we need to be able to communicate. The Scourge—that’s our enemy—well, they love to ambush, so a lot of what we do is sneaking around. We communicate what we see and what’s coming at us without using our voices. It doesn’t even matter that Savage can’t speak.”
Coal propped himself onto a spindly arm and rested his head in his palm.
“So, when we’re on a mission, we use hand signals. Some are from something the Modern Realm calls sign language and some we adapted ourselves. I was wondering if that might be something you’d want to learn?”
Cue the bright-eyed head bobbing.
“It’ll be confusing at first, but if we practice, you’ll be able to tell me exactly what you’re thinking.” The hug was all I needed to wipe the last of my unease away. I set him back on his pillow and held up my hands so they caught the light from the bathroom. “Cool. So, here’s an easy one.”
Lying half buried in the rolling plains of an overstuffed duvet and navy satin sheets, I watched Coal’s tiny chest rise and fall, slow and deep. Up. Down. Up. After learning dozens of signs, his eyes had grown so heavy I told him to close them. Two seconds later, he was gone. Now, lost in what I hoped was a kinder world, he was free to be a kid. I, myself, after my last brush with dreamland, might never sleep again.
The crevice of dawn—I think Terran had something with that one—came an hour or so after Coal drifted back to sleep. I’d told him not to panic if he woke up and I was gone. I’d be in the garden working out. After assuring him that he and I were a team now, he relaxed but still made me promise I wouldn’t go anywhere beyond the grounds without him.
I slid out of bed with my plan. Shower. Dress. Back garden.
Except—once I was face-to-face with the stone tile and shiny bathroom fixtures I had no idea how to make the shower work. The mechanics of the nozzles and drain were different from the palace. No matter what I tried, no water came.
Okay, so work out, then shower.
I fingered through the basket of toiletries Jonash had provided and did my best impression of ready for my day. Not for the first time I wondered about Rowan. How had it gone with the Queen? Did he come back here last night or stay at the swordsmith shop? Terran said he’d lived there since his family was destroyed. Or, maybe he was still at the palace.
My empty stomach wriggled. Gods that would be seven hours with her. Seven hours of Rowan being her plaything. Against my will, I wondered what a session with Mommy Dearest would entail.
I shook my head. Maybe that’s not how things had gone down at all. We were playing a very dangerous game, he and I. If the Queen knew Rowan wasn’t towing the line, Elani would pay the price as Tham had.
A burst of heated fury burned through my veins. What was going on here?
I thought about what the Queen’s end game could be as I pulled on my leathers and tied my empty sheath to my thigh. The woman had dominion over Attalos, was cultivating an army and her breeding program was well under way infiltrating the Nine Houses of the Nobles. One last glance at Coal sleeping and I retrieved my knife from under my pillow.
So, what did she want?
Boots in hand, I backed out of the room, eased the door closed and held the latch so it made only the softest tink as it fell into place. As I stepped back, my foot caught.
“What the—Terran?” I stumbled backward, crashing into the opposite wall. My Jimmy Choo’s flew, my skull rattled, and I ended up sprawled on my ass on the plush hall runner.
“Oh! Princess,” Terran tried to catch me but managed only to rescue an airborne boot. “Are you all right?”
I looked up at the horror on his face and burst out laughing. “Turnabout is fair play. I guess you owed me that.” Gods had that been just two days ago? Or was it three now? “Thanks for not punching me in the face.”
I rubbed the back of my head where I’d connected with the wall and he offered a hand to pull me to my feet. In the aftermath of our collision it dawned on me. “Why are you camped out in the hall? I sent you to bed last night.”
Terran shrugged. “I heard you cry out a few hours ago and raced into the hall. When I was about to burst in, you assured Coal it was just a bad dream.”
“So, you decided to camp out?”
He picked up my boots and handed them back, his sage green gaze despondent. “But I fell asleep in the doorway. I apologize. I am not the best private guard.”
“Ah, no biggie. Besides, you’re better than you think. It’s not too often I end up ass-planted because someone caught me by surprise. You get props for that.”