His mouth twists a bit with confusion. “Of course, I’m okay. You’re the one who was screaming. I’m hoping it was just a dream.”
“Something of the sort,” I reply sitting up.
He looks at me out of the corner of his eye, watching me carefully. “Do you want to talk about your nightmare?”
“Not really,” I reply with a shudder. I wish it could have been just a nightmare, but I have not had a nightmare since my visions began. Instead, I am left feeling powerless and hopeless as visions of a future I fear assail me.
“You were saying my name,” Marcello says. “Did it have something to do with me?”
I bite down on my lip as I glance down. I look to where the rune stone is sitting with the rest of our supplies. Right next to the wrapped-up finger. I turn to Marcello. “I don’t think we should raise the god.”
His brows come together. “All right, but… won’t you die if we don’t?”
“And you will die if we do,” I whisper bitterly.
Marcello starts shaking his head. “No, but I’m immortal.”
“You don’t seem to understand, if we raise the god, it will end all unnatural acts, including your immortality.” I reach over, resting a hand on his knee. “And you will die.”
Marcello looks down at my hand. “Well, if you’ve seen my death than we can just find some way to circumvent it. How did I die?”
I shake my head. “No, we aren’t just going to barter with your life, make a gamble against the fates.”
“So, I suppose we’ll just sacrifice yours, then?” he demands.
“We may not have to,” I say slowly as I turn my wrist upward, looking at the scale. It has certainly moved, the distance between both the weights is not so drastic. “Let me see your wrist.”
Marcello stares at me a moment confused but then he holds his wrist out to me. I take it, tracing my fingers over the mark. It’s changed as well to match mine. I look up at him but notice that he is glancing toward the finger, a calculating look in his eyes.
I tighten my hold around his fingers. “Don’t try anything reckless.”
He turns back to me, the corner of his mouth turning upward. “Of course not.”
I nod slowly, releasing him. I don’t know what I’m so afraid of, that he would raise the giant in defiance of my wishes? Why would he sacrifice himself for me, knowing full well that it will kill him?
He turns toward the fire. “I think we will need more wood to make it through the night.”
I regard him through narrow eyes as he pushes to his feet. I also rise.
“Don’t worry yourself,” he replies, brushing off his cloak where some snow clings to the fabric. “I will get it so that you do not have to brave the dark.”
“That is not necessary,” I say, but Marcello is already stepping away. “Marcello,” I caution.
He smiles slightly, clearly finding humor in this situation that I do not see. “Why are you so edgy?”
I frown, looking down at the finger lying on the ground now near Marcello’s feet. “Don’t do anything hasty.”
“I was about to say the same to you,” he replies. Then he drops to his knees. I’m not entirely sure of what he is doing until he is flinging a handful of snow into my eyes. The coldness stings and I spit, trying to clear my mouth. When I open my eyes, I see that Marcello is racing off into the darkness of the night.
My eyes fly down to the spot where the finger and rune stone were resting, but they aren’t there anymore.
“Marcello!” I shout as I take off after him. Worm lets out a yip and jumps in front of me, his wings outspread and his eyes glowing with distress. He wags his head back and forth, trying to communicate with me. From his body language of agitation and his movements, it’s almost as if he is trying to tell me to stop.
I let out a small click, and Worm lets out another frantic hiss. He lowers his head, showing me deference, but remains in the way.
I look up, spotting Marcello between Worm’s wings. I don’t know how Marcello managed to get my dragon so loyal to him in such a short time, but it seems as if Worm is legitimately scared that I will hurt him. The ironic thing is that if he doesn’t move out of the way then Marcello will be hurt by his own foolish actions.
The giant… the storm… the crimson on the freshly fallen snow.
