“You… You were screaming in your sleep,” the Vaich whispered.
“All I see is death, and all I hear is silence.” The druid coiled closer. The sweat on his skin had grown cold. He shivered.
Wordlessly, the Vaich pulled the blankets around his shoulders.
“Leave us,” he said, turning his head to the door.
The druid peeked up, realizing the Vaich hadn’t come alone. Nacht and Alak stood at the doorframe, Rask and Cían close behind. His cheeks heated, and he ducked back down, attempting to make himself smaller.
“I am sorry,” he said as the men went off. “I did not mean to cause such a frightful scene.”
“Well, it couldnae be much worse. Most already think you mad.” The Vaich smiled, but it stung.
They both knew the truth in his jest.
“It is irresponsible. I will correct it at once.”
“You cannae control your dreams, druid. Do you mean to never sleep?”
“If that is what it takes.”
“Dinnae be foolish.” The Vaich’s voice was a warm exhale against his ear. The druid shivered once more. “I cannae let you do that. You’re unwell enough as it is. We’ll simply fashion you a muzzle.”
The druid scoffed.
“Do you wish to speak of it? Your dream?”
He glanced up, heart thudding at the inquiry.
There was once a time when he had begged for such response. Now, he had no idea what to do with it.
“I… I will tell you later,” he muttered, glancing away. “I do not want you to go up the mountain with such things on your mind.”
“But that’s such a long time,” the Vaich teased softly.
“You ought to sleep while you still can.” The druid’s fingers were still tangled in the fur of his mantle and, slowly, he forced himself to release.
“Well,” said the Vaich, clearing his throat. “I’ll let you alone to rest.”
Before he could stop himself, the druid reached out, halting the Vaich as he rose. “You’ll be gone. In… In the morning?”
“Aye,” said the king. “We leave at first light.”
“I wish to be there. To see you off.”
The Vaich looked as if he might refuse him, but those golden irises burned low. “Very well. I’ll send someone to fetch you. Until then, sleep better, druid.”
“Cerys.”
The room was still, but the Vaich’s rush of breath. He paused, as if seeking confirmation. The druid answered with a nod.
“Cerys,” he repeated gently, the sound a song upon his tongue. The sort of sound one might enjoy to be called. “I’ll… see you at first light.”
The Vaich’s skin left his once and for all, and the moment he was gone, Cerys wished he would return.
Chapter fifty-eight
The Climb
