My face warms from the praise. “I was wondering if you would show.”
“You doubted me?” He pouts his lower lip, but his green eyes twinkle. “How could I treat my sister-in-law so poorly? Come. We haven’t time to waste.”
“About that…” I tug on his sleeve to draw his attention back to me. “I’m not alone.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Thyamine steps into the small clearing, the eerie transparency of her form allowing her to blend easily into her surroundings. Her round glasses sit askew on her pert nose.
Something hardens in Zephyrus’ eyes, and he faces me with a raised eyebrow. “Is there a particular reason you’ve brought company?”
“My lady?” Thyamine minces her way to my side, breathless from the hike. Upon catching sight of Zephyrus, her nose scrunches in concentration, as though she is attempting to place his features. It is futile. Moments after leaving the citadel, she asked me what my name was. The poor woman is hopeless. “Who are you?”
“Thyamine, this is Zephyrus.” No need to inform her he is the North Wind’s brother, since he has technically been banned from the Deadlands. It’s unlikely she’ll remember that detail anyway.
“She found me while I was trying to slip away,” I mutter to Zephyrus. “I didn’t have much of a choice. It was either invite her, or risk the guards spotting me.”
“This isn’t going to be an issue, is it?” he asks. “Because there can be no distractions once we reach the cave.”
“She promised she would listen to my instructions. Right, Thyamine?”
“Yes, my lady.” Another glance at Zephyrus. “What were your instructions again?”
The West Wind doesn’t appear pleased by the additional companion, but he shrugs and gestures for us to follow him.
“How did you manage to leave the citadel without anyone noticing?” he asks in curiosity.
“There’s a hole in the outer wall near the practice courts,” I say, picking my way over slush-covered tree roots. For whatever reason, it’s far wetter today, as if the air has warmed.
He tosses a grin in my direction, one that reveals his sharpened canines. “Clever girl.”
Mnemenos’ glassy surface slithers into view. The farther we travel, chasing the river to its end, the taller the trees stretch, and the sky dims, slipping into obscurity.
“There is something you must know, Wren, before we reach the cave of Sleep.” A light, graceful leap over a fallen tree, and he lands soundlessly on the other side while I clamber over the trunk. Thyamine merely flows through it, a childlike curiosity to her expression as she takes in our surroundings.
He turns to me then, face grave. “When you fall asleep in the realm of the living, it is but a brief visitation to Sleep’s dominion. Should you succumb to Sleep’s power in the Deadlands, however, there’s a chance you might not wake—ever.”
“You said the god’s power would be muted on me,” I remind him, fighting the queasiness curdling through my stomach.
“It will be, but you must still remain vigilant.”
How lovely for him to inform me of this when we’re halfway to our destination. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” I snap.
At least he appears properly contrite, though it is still no excuse. “Would you have agreed to it, if I had?”
After some consideration, yes, I probably would have. Because I’m desperate. Because there is no other choice. Now it feels as if I’ve been led astray.
“I’m sorry, what are we doing here again?”
I turn to Thyamine, who squints at me as though I stand in a thick fog. She is properly confused, and I cannot blame her. I’m beginning to wonder if this outing was a mistake.
As if sensing my disquiet, Zephyrus comes forward, brushing snow from my coat, all smiles and reassurance. “Here is the plan. I will invite myself into my cousin’s humble abode. While I distract him, you find the garden and take the poppy flowers. A handful is enough. It shouldn’t take more than an hour.”
As much as I want to call this off, we might not have another chance. I need that tonic. “How will I find the garden? And how am I supposed to see? You said there’s no light inside.”
“Here.” He passes me a round glass orb the size of my fist. It emits a pale, rosy light, and warms my palm through my glove like the smallest of suns.
Thyamine leans forward, a slow blink of her magnified eyes. “What is that?”
