I raised my face to feel the wind. It swirled around us, fragrant with the scent of the sprawling wilderness below, and threaded through our hair, caressing it with smooth fingers. “The tales say nothing about how to free you. They scarcely mention your fate at all.”
The Bringer let out a heavy sigh and opened his eyes. The shadows were back under his spell, but they felt empty and dull compared with how they’d been rioting earlier. “You said Mithras was marching you to your death. If he succeeds, you’ll never leave. You’ll share my fate, bound to this castle and unable to watch your loved ones grow older. You’ll live here as Noctis sinks further intoruin, oblivious to the waking world and numb to the passage of time. Don’t let them take you.”
“It’s already too late,” I whispered shakily, heart sinking. “They’re transporting me to Istralla for my sentencing.”
“Then find my tomb,” he said with sudden intensity.
“Your tomb?” I repeated, confused. “I’m not sure how your bones will help my situation.”
“Not my bones,” he growled. “If I still exist here in the Dream Realm, then my mortal body must live on in a fixed slumber. If you can wake me there, I can help you.”
This was new, too. The Shadow Bringer was supposed to be a monstrous beast with fangs and claws, not a man with a living, breathing body somewhere in Noctis. My thoughts drifted, and I wondered what he looked like in his mortal flesh, if his sleeping body wore armor and a helm, too. Perhaps he’d have scales underneath all his layers of metal. Or, more likely, skin. Pale and flawless skin, like the stretch that could be seen around his lips and jaw—not the burning mess that was still trying to heal itself.
Stop thinking about his skin. Stop thinking about him at all.
I gritted my teeth, banishing the image from my mind. I didn’t care what he looked like as a mortal. If his tomb could be found, and he was, in fact, asleep inside, I could convince the Light Bringer of my loyalty. I could help the Light Legion kill him, once and for all time. Still, I felt torn. Playing into his hand was a risk, and the Light Bringer might not even believe me.
“I can never accept your help. You’re the keeper of demons, and—”
“Yes, just a monster ruling the Dream Realm from his cage like some twisted god,” he snapped, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Walkinginto your dream was the first time I’ve left these walls in centuries. Unfortunately, as soon as you woke up, I was snapped back. I want out of this castle, Esmer. Ineedout.” He stood, gripping the balustrade for support. One of his helm’s horns, which had partially broken apart in his hair, dropped to his feet, rattling against the stone.
He gestured to a crescent-shaped glade in the distance; it was identical to the one the Light Legion was currently camped in. “There. In Noctis, my tomb is just beyond that glade. You’re asleep there right now with the Light Legion, aren’t you? Mithras has a sense of where I am, but he can’t find me. Not the way you do.”
“I really can’t escape,” I whispered, close to breaking. I had tried to shove away my feelings of grief, but they were now squeezing my chest in an iron vice. “You haunt me and won’t let go.”
“I know you want to kill me,” he noted, bringing a clawed hand to my neck and dragging his thumb under my lip. He pressed softly, coaxing a shiver of shadow to rise between us. “Even though we share a similar madness, you’d rather die than accept my help. You’d let Mithras drag you to Istralla like a dog, even if that meant being slain by his blade. Even if you knew it wasn’t true justice, you’d offer your neck to him.”
Shadows began a slow twirl around us, lapping at our arms.
“I’ll find your tomb, Shadow Bringer.”
And after we kill you, the Light Bringer will surely trust me enough to set me free.
A slow, triumphant smile ghosted his lips. “If you can find my tomb and wake me, I will ensure that you’re never scared or lost ever again. I will make them pay.”
Strangely, I believed him. But I could never follow him.
He reached for me, and I found myself reaching back. But just as my fingertips met his, I was ripped away, his hands and castle spiraling into nothingness.
I stared past my steaming bowl of porridge, scarcely able to believe what I was seeing.
The legionnaires were awake. Andcheery.
They moved about the camp in an efficient morning rhythm, none the wiser to what had happened in my dream. The demonic chorus, the wail of demented release—it took most of breakfast before my stomach stopped churning. Still, the dream lingered, even with Elliot sitting next to me.
Let us out.
Let us out.
Let us out.
The Shadow Bringer’s breath against my ear, his eyes as they lit up, searching me.
Does he face those demons every night?
I took another mouthful of oats, awkwardly maneuvering the bowl in my bound hands.
Is he facing them now, alone?
