How could he tell her he’d already seen her as she wanted to be seen, that that was the entire backbone of his dilemma with her and what she’d done in Mythgarde? He saw her. She saw him. It was all so simple, yet nothing had ever felt more morosely convoluted. “I won’t.”
“Good.” Her hand fell away. It took the air with it. “Now?—”
The ground shook again, but harder. When she stumbled, he reached for her, but all he grabbed hold of was her necklace. Then the stones split, and he tripped backward, still gripping the pendant.
Jesstin jolted awake. He looked down at his hands, one still fisted around Dream Elloven’s necklace. He glanced over at her, seated on the other bench, where she was patting her chest.
No. Couldn’t be.
But he quickly abandoned that concern for another.
The carriage was no longer in motion.
Elloven’s eyes dilated in alarm as she looked to him for answers. Hands upturned, he shook his head. The carriage rocked so hard, they all rolled and slammed into the other side.
A scream outside was followed by a thud of something heavy hitting the dirt.
Their hired driver.
“I think we’re being robbed,” Taven cried, lunging for the carriage door. “Run!”
Elloven had to find her anchor. Most crises were manageable once she had it, but first she had to understand what was happening. She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep or how far they’d traveled. She was still half chained to the strange, shared dream. She’d lost her necklace, and?—
But she hadn’t been wearing one, at least in the real world.
The real world.
Sunlight cut through the gaps in the curtain’s edge. Taven released the fabric and rammed his shoulder into the door. “Come on, come on.”
“There’s a handle, princess.” Jesstin’s sword, as long as the bench was wide, was laid over his lap as he dug into his belt. “But I wouldn’t do that.”
Taven threw his body against the door again and went sprawling into the mud with a thick splash. Elloven started after him, but Jesstin grabbed her elbow and shook his head.
“Wait.”
Elloven nodded and moved behind him. She wasn’t too proud to admit she was scared.
Jesstin climbed out and led with his sword pointed down, his dagger to the side. Elloven squinted against the harsh sun as she slowly followed and caught only a glimpse of Taven’s cloak disappearing into the forest.
“So gallant, that one,” Jesstin muttered. “Stay back. I need to see?—”
A large man fell from the sky and landed on Jesstin, their collision scored by a rough chorus of breathy exchanges as they went rolling into the ditch. Elloven stumbled back from the carriage and tripped on the lifeless body of their poor driver.
“What are you doing? Run!” A scream followed Jesstin’s plea.
“I’m not leaving you here!” Elloven conducted a frantic search for anything she might use as a weapon. A thick branch, a rock. She hadn’t saved Jesstin’s life only for it to end on the side of a road.
Her boot hit something; a branch. She grabbed it and crouched low, working her way around to the other side of the carriage. Her heart thudded so hard against her breastbone, it was a wonder it didn’t announce her. It was all she could feel and hear. Even Jesstin seemed too far away to matter.
But he’s still in the ditch.
She returned to the front for a better view, but the trench was so deep, she could only hear the commotion of flesh connecting with flesh.
When the robber leaped to his feet, Jesstin crawled toward his sword in the leaves, and the man kicked him in the shoulder. Jesstin clutched his arm as he collapsed near a tree.
He twitched in irritation when the man’s sword tip pressed against his throat. Blood ran down his face, but there was more on the robber’s. “Go on then. No need to take your time with it.”
“I don’t have to hurt you if you give me the girl.” He gave the sword a light jab.
