Something wakes me.
The thudding sound comes again as I lift my head, and my sluggish brain can’t place the disruption, even as it provides an instant awareness of where I am. As I look to the door through my blue veil, the darkness is so dense, it’s a tangible solid.
“Merc?”
Except I know he’s not here. I can sense his absence, even as I plumb the void for the shadows of his broad chest and his long legs.
I’m alone. In the wasteland of the burned village.
Fear hits me like a physical blow, and I paddle at the floor with my feet and hands to stand up. “Merc.”
My body is stiff and unbalanced, and when I’m finally vertical, the shivering that rattles my teeth and my limbs is a reminder of just how far the temperature continued to drop. I rub my upper arms to generate warmth as my eyes trace the doorjambs. Wan gray moonlight seeps in through cracks in the planks. Dawn isn’t even close—
He’s out with demons.
Merc heard something outside and was ambushed when he went to check on the sound.
An internal roaring knocks out my sense of hearing, and as I begin to choke on panic, that thin covering over my face thickens into a sodden woolen blanket. Batting at the fold that falls from the turban, I open my mouth to get more air in, and when that doesn’t help, I have a sudden paranoia that the water was contaminated and I’ve been poisoned.
With shaking hands, I tear the veil off my head, and yank in some deep, unrestricted breaths. My head begins to spin, and as I throw out a hand, I catch my balance on the ash-dusted wall. The air is instantly filled with fine particles,and it turns out that makeshift face cover offered my nose and throat a kind of protection. Coughing, I feel like I have to run. Run fast and far. Where am I going, though?
And what awaits me if I leave this abandoned house—
Abruptly, I frown.
Wait… am I dreaming?Is this real?I glance around again, noting the horse in the corner—and brace for the chestnut to turn toward me with its eyes glowing red from an evil possession. Even though the steed does no such thing, I think of the old wives in the village, who always warned that however frightening the dark of night can be, it’s nothing compared to the dangers of the dream world. There, the demons are not alive so they can’t be killed when they come out of the shadows—
“Merc, where are you,” I beg the silence.
Unable to stay where I am, terrified of what I’ll find outside, I start for the door, the toes of my slipper shoes hitting objects that rattle as I kick them out of my way. I don’t care about the noise. I want something to come at me, so at least I can stop worrying about when it will—
The door swings open, and lunar light streams in, blinding me.
I gasp. Or wait… someone else does.
“Merc?”
By the width of those shoulders and the scent of cedar soap, I know it’s him. Except he just stands there in the jambs, his one hand on the door’s handle, his other raised with that broadsword in his grip.
“Where have you been?” I say hoarsely, my breath coming out in clouds that pass through the moonbeams.
The tip of the broadsword slowly lowers. Then he continues to stay where he is, staring at me, even though he should shut the door.
Not that that flimsy wood can protect us from much.
“Are you all right?” I take another step forward, kicking something else that clangs. “Are you injured? What happen—”
He wrenches around, ducking his head and putting his free hand out to stop me. “Your veil.”
“What?”
“Veil!Your veil.”
I stop in confusion, and that’s when I hear the thud for a third time. It turns out to just be the horse, stamping a hoof as he repositions himself in the corner. That’s what woke me up.
And in a similar way, the sound brings me fully to my senses.
With a squeak, I reach up to my head. The length of fabric that I draped over my face is back on the floorboards where I ripped the thing off.
