I shake my head. “No, I guess I didn’t.”
Nancy frowns. “Was this an arranged marriage?”
“No, not at all. It’s a…” What is it? “It’s a marriage of convenience.”
“Got it. So you’ll end up falling in love even though you don’t plan to.”
My stomach drops. If I’m going to fall in love, it’s with someone who deserves it. I won’t accept anything less.
I pop my head back behind the screen where she can’t see me, and I finish wiggling into the dress.
“You done yet?”
I step out and Nancy eyes me for a second. “It’s a lot of pink. You sure you don’t want something black?”
“No. This is perfect.”
I move to the mirror and take a look. The dress has a sheen to it that makes it flow like water when I move. It just brushes the tops of my knees, and the skirt is full, belling out, even though it is short.
It’s wacky, charming, and perfect.
“I love it.”
“If you say so.” Nancy slowly rises. “My work here is done. If you need anything, call Stave. I get off in an hour, and I’ve got a date with a warm bath.”
“Sounds like a perfect way to spend your evening.”
She eyes me like she’s not sure if I’m being honest, and then she limps out of the room.
I take one more spin in the dress, letting what Nancy said about the nightmare voice sink in. So Eryx has a voice in his head all the time? It’s linked to his magic?
My gaze drifts around the room, landing on the touches of pink. Eryx would have told Stave to make me a room that gives me happiness, that feels welcoming.
He did that for me, a complete stranger.
Does the voice inside his head make him…lonely? My heart breaks a little right then, as I imagine a younger Eryx ostracized from his old friends all because of a voice and magic that makes him so different from everyone else—so misunderstood.
Or maybe the voice is the only friend he's ever had.
The thought makes my throat tight. Should I ask him about the voice or let him tell me?
“Elmore, do you think I should ask Eryx about?—”
But before I can get the words out of my mouth, the world explodes.
Eryx
Two minutes earlier
The nightmare writhes in my hands, all dark shadows and pulsing energy. It was a particularly nasty one—a boy’s terror of drowning, lungs filling with water, darkness closing in.
The inky black form warps and twists, fighting to escape my hold.
Figures. Two days off, and the first nightmare I touch wants to fight back.
More power!Nightmare yells.Give it more!
I push more of my magic into it and it seeps in. The shadow shrieks. Its dark core shifts, changing from black to gold to molten white, burning like the sun.
