“That,” says Zephyrus, “is called a roselight.” He taps the glass with a fingernail, and the pink shimmers with an iridescent glow. “In my realm, roses are harvested for their petals. The liquid is extracted and altered to a substance of pure light.” He sounds proud of this accomplishment. It is quite the marvel. “Now, the garden is located in the cave’s center, which you’ll find by following the river.” He searches my gaze. “All right?”
What is life without a little risk? I nod, chin lifted.
Thyamine says, “Are we going on a trip, my lady?”
“We are.” I pat her arm comfortingly, poor thing. “But you’ll need to be quiet the rest of the way, as if you’re sleeping. Can you do that?”
She nods eagerly. “Yes, I can do that. I enjoy sleep, though I never dream. Or I never remember the dreams.” Her face folds into an expression of extreme perplexity.
Zephyrus mutters something about insanity before striding ahead. Another half-mile passes before Mnemenos splits. One branch continues onward, while the other curves eastward. Thyamine gasps, and I, too, experience a similar disbelief at the sight before us.
Two gargantuan arches, thrice the height of the surrounding trees, bridge each arm of the river, like individual doorways. I’m not sure of the material they’re carved from. One glows with a white luster. The other, equally pale, lacks radiance, as though coated in dust.
“What are those?” I approach the flowing river in curiosity, careful to maintain a healthy distance from the treacherous bank.
“The gates of ivory and horn,” Zephyrus answers. “Dreams pass beneath them, and Mnemenos carries them to the mortal realm.”
He gestures to the eastbound branch, where the smooth, lustrous arch curves overhead, shimmering as though polished. “True dreamspass beneath the gate of horn. False dreams, those meant to deceive”—he gestures to its dulled twin—“pass beneath the gate of ivory.”
“Do you dream, my lady?”
I smile at Thyamine’s question, although it doesn’t reach my eyes. “Sometimes,” I say.
“What do you dream of?”
I dream of what Elora dreams of, though I’ve never mentioned my own wish to find love and safety, a home with a man. I don’t need those things, of course. But it would be nice, I think.
Thyamine awaits my answer. I only say, “It matters not.”
After passing the gates of ivory and horn, it doesn’t take long before Zephyrus lifts a hand, signaling us to stop.
Beyond the bend, I spot the cave, the river pushing through its mouth. It’s part of a much larger structure, one that is carved from the cliff itself. A massive edifice not unlike the Frost King’s citadel. Smooth towers and overhanging colonnades.
“You said Sleep dwells in a cave,” I say to Zephyrus doubtfully.
“Technically, it is a cave.” He snorts. “I, for one, will never understand how Sleep and his brother, Death, have not gone mad from it.” At my questioning glance, he elaborates, “The darkness.”
Indeed, a shroud encompasses the cave, hiding the majority of it from sight.
“From this moment forward,” he says, “there can be no sound. Sleep must not sense your presence.” He pins Thyamine with a glittering, green-eyed glare. “Wren, you’re with me. Your maid will have to stay behind. Keep the roselight off until I’ve successfully distracted him.” He taps the orb, and the light fades. “Once inside, follow the river until you reach the garden.”
How many times, exactly, has Zephyrus visited this cave? Enough to know what to expect. Enough to concern me. Enough to settle me, too.
I nod in agreement, then begin trailing him across the smooth, raised rocks spilling toward the frozen bank of Mnemenos. He leaps across the slick, ice-coated stones gracefully, landing on the balls of his feet, before springing farther out.
“Wait, my lady.” Thyamine is not a particularly strong woman, so the fierceness of her grip around my arm is surprising. Her breathing shallows as she stares straight ahead, watching Zephyrus’ form blur as he pushes through the dark that thickens around the cave. “Something tells me this is a bad idea.”
“I already know this is a bad idea.” I try prying her fingers free, but they tighten painfully.
“It’s something else. Something—” She breaks off with a sound of frustration. Her eyes shine. “If only I could remember.”
A gentle pat to her hand, and miraculously, her fingers loosen around my arm. “It’s all right. Zephyrus warned me of the dangers of coming here. I must do this. I must return to my sister, my life in Edgewood.”
“But you have a life here.” Her expression is so sweetly confused.
“It’s a life, but it’s notmylife.” As her confusion deepens, I shake my head. It’s pointless to explain, considering she will not remember this conversation tomorrow. “What I mean is, I didn’t choose it.”
Thyamine glances in Zephyrus’ direction. He’s stopped near the mouth of the cave and waves to me. “But what about the Midwinter Eve festival?”
