Lelantos, the Air Weaver, flew overhead, darting between the clouds, mist, and lingering sparks of lightning, fine-tuning his finishing touches. He summoned a flat panel of clouds to rest below our feet,marking the boundaries of his sky-bound creation, and twisted other clouds into spires that mimicked the shapes of marble pillars. He left us open to the world, as he formed no ceiling or walls around the pillars, but there wasn’t much to see. The panoramic view of the Nocturne was marred by his storm.
When he was satisfied with his ballroom in the sky, Lelantos floated above us all, his great tawny wings forcing a wind to thread through our whimsical clothes and carefully placed masks. His own mask of bone curved over one side of his face, framing one-half of his hawkish gaze. He wore robes of fur and leather, his broad chest open to the air, and his full lips were curled in enjoyment.
“Dreamers!” Lelantos shouted, silencing the crescendoing music and lingering chatter. “Welcome to the Revel of Rebirth. You were brought here for a purpose, as you always will be. Rebirth comes when a nightmare is disturbed by the dawn of freedom. Rebirth means hope, glory,wings.”
He paused, letting the impact of his words sink in. The air became heavy in his silence, weighted by possibility. Even Erebus and Mithras, now in matching white wings, looked to Lelantos in anticipation. Forwhat, I didn’t know.
And how convenient that the Shadow Bringer was still missing.
Uneasy, I glanced around, trying again to find him among the dreamers. He should have been obvious enough, but everyone’s wings made it difficult to see. The wings obscured, masked, hid. Just as I swore I saw his moon-white hair or armor of liquid night, a wing obstructed my view, hiding whatever I thought I saw.
“To you, I am the Air Weaver: king of the sky, ruler of the winds, and harbinger of change,” Lelantos continued. “But tonight, I am the master of this Revel. And a glorious Revel it shall be. Now the storms will cease, the rain shall recede, and the dawn of freedom will be upon us.”
Lelantos spread his hands wide, and for a moment, I could have sworn that his pale eyes met mine. But just as the moment came, it passed, and with a final flourish of his wings, the skies listened. Thestorm quieted to a purr. The clouds dissolved. The rain, mist, and lightning ceased. And millions of stars, as gloriously bright as the heavens, slid into place around us.
The dreamers had been silent out of respect for Lelantos; now they were silent for a different reason altogether.
It was as the Air Weaver said. This was hope. Possibility. Freedom.Rebirth.
Wind, fresh with the scent of the Nocturne, swept in among the dreamers. Hints of salt, moss, and violets. As the wind swept in, so did the music, commanded by some unseen source. And just like marionettes on invisible threads, we began to dance. The steps were intricate and grand, but I didn’t need to know them. As long as I relaxed my body, it moved without my input, falling into the natural ebb and flow of the movements. My wings spun me in place or guided me to a new partner; my hips twisted and my arms dipped of their own accord.
Some partners were talkative and genuine, complimenting my dress or sharing in the latest Realm gossip. Others were like the green-eyed man. At the outset, they were enchanting and interested in learning more about who I was—my past, my status, my hopes and dreams. But a few steps later, their sinisterness would begin to leak through. Their eyes would gleam red, their grips would tighten, and their mouths would wet.
My current dance partner was like this. He was an older man with a graying beard and a warm, booming voice. I had thought him kind at first. Charming. But he had since lost that innocence. Now as he looked at me, all I saw was a terrible, gnawing violence. It smoldered in his pale blue eyes, puffed out from his nostrils like smoke. I wanted out, out,out—
Suddenly, my wings faltered, as if forgetting the next step in the waltz. The man and I stumbled, falling into the path of other dancers. I glanced around, desperate to catch the eye of another partner.
“Getawayfrom me,” I demanded, fear sharpening my tone.
In return, he smiled, as if my struggle entertained him. “This isn’t how you treat a nobleman.”
Then the man—monster—caught my wrist, trying to pull my body back into his sweat-slicked hands. I resisted, slamming an elbow into his chest, but his grip was like iron. I couldn’t break free. Why wasn’t anyone watching? Why didn’t anyonecare?
But then someone did.
Erebus.
His partner, a beautiful woman donning a rose-colored dress, was gazing up at him in adoration. But Erebus’s smile was stiff, his eyes distracted. Searching for something, just as mine were.
When he saw me, he dropped her hand.
A jolt snapped like fire through my bones. The feeling wasn’t dissimilar to the effects of the drink I’d tried earlier: a flash of breathless power. I became all too aware of myself. The neckline of my dress, the color on my lips, and the soft shade of gray fabric that complemented his own attire. I hadn’t realized it earlier, but now it was glaringly obvious. I assumed I’d be matching the Shadow Bringer.
NotErebus.
Alter it. Alter it as you did in the last dream. Shift it before he can see—
But nothing happened. Even my blade, which had jumped through my skin before, felt tired and dull. Sluggish, as if in a deep sleep.
“Your turn is over,” Erebus told the bearded man, smiling thinly. His voice was just as rich and commanding as the Shadow Bringer’s, but he spoke with more poise than the Bringer ever did. “Find a new partner.”
After only a moment’s hesitation, the man released me.
“It was a memorable dance, dearest lady,” he said, dropping into a bow and pressing a prickly kiss to the back of my hand before I could snatch it away. “Enjoy the rest of the Revel.”
Erebus’s silver eyes meandered along the lines of my body the way a man might look at his lover, but there was no warmth in his gaze. His unmasked eyes were sharp and guarded as they beheld the folds of my gray dress. The way my curls fell over my shoulders. The jewelry at my throat.
“You’re wearing my favored color,” he murmured, taking my hand and pulling me to his chest. His gloved thumb brushed over the spot where the man had kissed me, as the dreamers around us stared. “Most Revelers prefer bright colors, but I would rather be surrounded by the depths. Isn’t that strange?”
