Five hundred years of darkness. Five hundred years of rotting away in the dark. Alone.
“Who are you?” he asked, silver eyes searching mine. “Have we met before?” His grip tightened. I wasn’t sure if he was aware of it. “You look…” He drifted off, analyzing my face. For a moment, it seemed as if he might rip off my mask.
Far below us, perhaps within the halls of Citadel Evernight, a bell clanged, and the skies darkened.
Erebus stopped, suspending us in the air.
“I’m afraid that’s all the time I have left,” he said, smiling sadly and releasing my hand. “I hope to see you again one day. I intend to revisit this conversation.”
“Wait, Erebus, you don’t—”
But he had already turned his back to me and dived between the pillars.
Gone.
My wings beat behind me, silently churning the air. What was I supposed to do now? What was my purpose here?
And just as I was about to dive after Erebus, I finally felthim.
The Shadow Bringer.
I spun around. Unsurprisingly, he was still in his black armor, sharp boots, and taloned gauntlets. The metal gleamed wickedly under the starlight, so at odds with the soft hues of the other dreamers, and his matching mask, no longer a draconic helm, was lined in obsidian points. But no one cared. Most of the dreamers who’d once looked upon me as prey had now moved toward a fresh offering of food and drink.
Which left the Shadow Bringer and me alone in the deep, endless night.
His wings were black and glossy, grander and more resplendent than I’d ever seen them. They stretched behind him, shimmering like a midnight river set aglow by the stars, making him appear taller and more intimidating than he already was. How silly that I’d ever thought wings looked impressive on the other dreamers. The way they looked on dreamers wasnothingcompared with how they looked on the Shadow Bringer.
His were menacing and tempting. And I wanted to touch them more than ever.
Strange.
The Bringer took in my dress. I could have sworn his masked gaze lingered there—in the shape of it. In the folds, the fabric. On my wings, soft and gray. And last, he focused on my eyes. His mouth slackened. I wasn’t sure he even noticed.
“You appear to be in your element,” I managed, heat rising to my temples. I had meant to tell him about Erebus, but the thought had promptly drifted away. “Your wings suit you.”
“As do yours.” It seemed as though he wanted to say more, but he shut his mouth before he could. His skin betrayed him, though; a flush was definitely at his temples, too.
The music soared, light and free. A crescendo of stringed instruments so perfectly harmonious that it made my heart lift. We were the only two partygoers not dancing.
“Where did you go?” I finally asked without revealing my yearning.I was looking for you. I missed having you by my side.
“I didn’t intend to leave you for so long.” He swallowed hard, as if deliberating whether to tell me a truth or a lie. “I was visiting with old friends.” His voice broke a little, cracked and splintered at that single admission. “Or watching them, really. What can a man say to his ghosts?”
A truth. A haunted, heartbreaking truth.
“Mithras was my friend, once,” the Bringer continued, looking out at the sky. “But he betrayed me—and it happens tonight, at this Revel.” He ran a gauntleted hand through his hair. “My memories come in pieces. There will be some cue. I should recognize it and know.”
“So we have more time, then?” I asked. I then tried for something more playful, wanting to ease the sorrow in his eyes that so clearly mirrored Erebus’s. “We could dance.”
“I am not dancing.” He added quickly, “I don’t dance.”
“Your past self would disagree. I was just dancing with him, actually.”
The Shadow Bringer tilted his head, considering. “Were you, now? You should know I only learned to dance so I could appease the Weavers who held these cursed parties.”
“What I’m hearing is that you are, indeed,verycapable of dancing.”
He grabbed my hands and pulled me to him.
