But just as the demon’s jaws began to squeeze shut, surely sealing our fates, it disintegrated.
And just like that, everything changed.
The pond’s waters shifted into something pure and crystalline. I could nearly smell it.Tasteit. Floral and crisp: mint, wildflowers, and fresh air. The pond floor, slick with mud and decay, transformed into a slab of dark sapphire. Any debris—anything other than pure, sparkling water—dissolved. Golden light, filtering down from above, washed over it all, hinting of a radiant sunrise just beyond the surface.
Though I wasn’t breathing, I wanted to. I wanted to drink it in; I wanted to fill my lungs with this scene.
Even the Shadow Bringer was changing. His skin warmed, lips shifting from deathly gray to a pale pink. The demon’s horn disappeared, too. Though the Bringer’s armor had a hole in it, his chest was smooth and intact.
With the horn no longer pinning him down, we began to rise. As soon as we broke the surface, the change in the dream was evident. The cottage was gone, as were the scum-lined cattails and perpetual haze. Instead, a field of wildflowers swept as far as the eye could see, each glowing as if it held a candle within its petals. Trees curled over the field, immensely tall and impossibly magnificent; their bark was iridescent and their leaves glittered like precious jewels. A sunrise shimmered above, glowing plum and gold.
And in the middle of it all, shadow and starlight spinning from his hands, was young Erebus.
He was smiling—beaming—as he worked, forming rolling hills and emerald rivers, clouds of silver dust, and a million stars to rest within his golden sky. From the ashes of his family’s cottage grew an obsidian tree, its many branches filled with the same glowing flowers in the field. I had never seen a boy so happy, sofree. Even Elliot, ever the sweet, brave optimist, never truly looked the way Erebus did now.
Without demons or Corruption, was this what dreams had the power to be?
It left me longing for something I didn’t quite understand. Like I had missed something important my entire life, something critically significant to my happiness and purpose. Carefree joy. Endless possibility.
Still damp from the pond water, I scarcely noticed as tears slid down my face.
I pulled the Shadow Bringer to the bank, setting him in the flowers. They fluttered against his body, an array of glowing colors swaying gently in the breeze, and their light, mingling with the sunrise, softened his edges and hollows. He looked as though he was one breath away from opening his eyes.
And surely he was breathing.Right?
The Bringer had said that breathing was a habit—that dreamers did it regardless, despite not having true heartbeats. I knelt over his chest, waiting for a breath’s telltale rise and fall. I gave it a moment, then another, counting my own breaths in the meantime.
Thirty seconds passed. Sixty. One hundred.
His chest remained motionless.
Strangely, I felt irritated. He was the almightyShadow Bringer, for Maker’s sake. Yet here he was, drowned, freezing, and powerless, defeated by the very monster we needed to overcome.
“You’re not dead, and the demon is gone,” I said, wanting to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. “You’re going to miss the rest of the dream, Bringer. Wake up.”
Beyond us, Erebus continued to weave beautiful new creations. A great bird, its wings a blanket of midnight. A cloak of stardust, onyx, and velvet, which he threw over his shoulders to trail along the ground. Sometimes he flew; sometimes he jumped; sometimes he simply stood within his flowers and smiled.
For a moment, I thought he looked my way.
“Erebus!” I waved my arms, straining so that he could see me. The flowered meadow was wide, and its iridescent trees partially obscured the Bringer and me. Erebus started to move toward us, but another moment passed, and he turned, walking away. “Erebus, I made it out! You did it—we—”
A hand grabbed me by the sleeve, pulling me down to land half-draped across an armored chest.
“Don’t say that name,” the Shadow Bringer thundered. And then he coughed, struggling to find his voice again as his hand dropped from my sleeve to my thigh. He didn’t seem aware of the touch; his shadowed eyes weren’t fully focused. “I am no longer that man. His name shouldn’t be spoken.”
Before I could think, I threw my arms around his shoulders.
A laugh slipped out, then it turned into a sob before I could stop it. I didn’t know why I was crying, but it felt good. It feltfreeing. Surprisingly,the Bringer leaned into my touch. He wrapped his arms around my back, holding my hips with one forearm and my shoulders with the other. Though his arms were armored, they weren’t uncomfortable. In fact, I was surprised byhowcomfortable they felt.
“You’re crying.” He slowly brought his hands to my jaw, pressing against the line of tears that still slipped down my skin. “Why are you crying?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, leaning back so that I could see him. Shadows slowly spun in his eyes; they were more beautiful than I’d ever seen them. “I thought you died.”
“And that makes you sad?”
“Of course. We’re allies, aren’t we?” I whispered. “It wouldn’t be fair for you to abandon me so soon.”
“Mm,” he murmured in agreement. “I remember the rest of the dream now,” he said suddenly, drawing me back into his chest. A soft, astonished noise slipped out of me. “You pulled my younger self from that demon’s pit. It’s rare for the Maker to allow a lasting divergence from the past, but it wasyou. My anchor.” He cursed, almost as if in disbelief. “And to think I once thought you my enemy and my ruin.”
