Chapter 41
Ro sat on the edge of her bed, the weight of the day clinging to her shoulders. The time in the garden with Gabriel had done her good, but the responsibilities of the crown never truly left.
She smiled. He’d asked her to marry him and she’d said yes. She wasn’t sure how the citizens would react to that, but after all she’d been through, it was time to put her happiness first.
A fire crackled low in the hearth, casting its flickering golden light across the tapestries that hung on her walls. She held a thin braid of hair in her palm, some of it hers, some of it Gabriel’s, and some of it Raphaela’s.
Unfortunately, she was sure the silvery gray ones were hers. The braid gleamed faintly under the lights. Or maybe that was evidence of the magic that Uldamar had enchanted it with earlier that evening.
“Think of this braid as a tether,” the old wizard had instructed when he’d delivered it. “When the dream-walker comes, call out to Gabriel and Raphaela. This will be enough to pull them through the veil of sleep, your highness.”
“You’re sure?” She’d laughed then. “Of course you’re sure.”
“I know you’re frightened, my lady. There’s no shame in feeling that. I promise this will work. It’s old magic.” He’d smiled. “Older than me.”
Ro had nodded, trusting him as she always did. The wizard’s solution felt like one more thread in the increasingly complicated tapestry of her rule. A little magic, a little gamble.
She slipped the braid beneath her pillow, catching a faint pulse of magic as she let go of it. Was that a promise or a warning?
She wasn’t sure. Maybe a bit of both. She changed into her linen nightgown and climbed beneath the covers. Benny had already curled up at the foot of the bed. He purred loud enough for her to hear, oblivious to the potential terror that awaited her in the dream realm.
JT was safe in his own chambers. Violet was likewise tucked away with her books and a glass of sherry. Maybe Ro should have done the same. Violet and Posey were both convinced that a little sherry would make them sleep too deeply for the dream-walker to bother them.
Ro had a feeling that wasn’t true, but she’d let them believe it.
She sat up in bed, thinking about reading a bit herself, but knew her concentration wasn’t there. What she really wanted was Gabriel beside her. And not for physical reasons. Well, not strictly for physical reasons.
“I really hope this works and you show up,” Ro whispered to the air, thinking of Gabriel’s fierce protectiveness and Raphaela’s uncompromising loyalty.
Finally, she lay down, closed her eyes, and let exhaustion pull her under.
The dream unfurled like a silk scarf taken up by the wind.
She stood in the ruined gardens of Willow Hall.
Overhead, willows with burned bark twisted in the breeze, but they were somehow wrong.
Their leaves were edged in black, dripping shadows that hissed when they touched the ground.
Fog coiled around her bare feet, cold and cloying, carrying the metallic scent of blood. Before her sat a familiar bench.
Ro’s heart pounded in her chest. She knew this place. It was where the arrow had nearly taken her life. Where so much of the trouble had begun.
The dream-walker stilt-walked out of the fog, taller than any fae she’d ever seen, its form shifting fluidly between something almost beautiful to something ancient and ravenous. Pale skin stretched too tight over sharp bones, eyes like faceted coals.
Tattered ribbons of shadow swirled around its body, revealing glimpses of writhing darkness beneath. “You reek of magic,” it rasped. “You think that will save you? How quaint.”
The creature cackled, throwing back its head and opening its maw to expose rows and rows of those awful needle teeth.
Ro lifted her chin, refusing to back down even as fear clawed at her throat. “I’m done running from you. Whatever you are, whatever Anyka or Beatryce sent you to do, this ends tonight.”
The creature laughed again, the sound a fractured chorus of whispers. It lunged, fingers elongating into curved claws that raked across Ro’s arm. Pain bloomed, hot and real, even in the dream. Ro staggered back, but the sylphnoct was faster, circling like a predator.
The garden twisted with shadows. The willows reached down with branch-fingers that tried to snare Ro’s wrists. The creature leaned toward her.
“You’re alone,” it hissed, its breath icy against Ro’s ear. “No one can save you here. I’ll peel your dreams apart until your mind is left in tatters, and then I’ll come for the crown in the waking world.”
Terror lit every nerve in Ro’s body on fire.
Her breath came in ragged gasps. Her Silversmith dagger was as warm as she’d ever felt it.
The shadows pressed closer, devouring the light.
She could feel the creature’s hunger, ancient and insatiable, feeding on her doubt, her exhaustion, her deeply hidden fear that she wasn’t enough for this throne.
She fought back, remembering what she was supposed to do.
“Gabriel!” she shouted, the name bellowing forth like a battle cry. “Raphaela! Help me!”
The fog around her rippled, shimmering with magic. Then Gabriel burst through, sword drawn, his dream-form clad in the same dark leathers he wore in the waking world, muscles coiled and ready. His eyes blazed with protective passion. “I’m here!”
Right behind him came Raphaela, lighter on her feet, twin blades flashing with enchanted silver fire. “We heard you, your highness!”
The sylphnoct recoiled, hissing. “Impossible. The veil—”
“—doesn’t matter,” Gabriel finished, launching himself in a blur of steel and fury. His blade clashed against the creature’s shadowy claws, sparks of light and fire exploding on contact. The force of the blows shook the willows, sending black leaves down like rain.
Raphaela flanked the creature with deadly grace, her blades carving arcs of flame that made paths of light through the darkness.
“You picked the wrong queen to bother,” she snarled, ducking under a sweeping claw to slash upward.
The sylphnoct screamed as one of its arms dissolved into smoke, only to reform a heartbeat later.
Ro joined the fray, suddenly finding Merediem at her side. She drew the sword and swung at the creature’s leg. It twisted away, but not fast enough. Her blade grazed its skin, leaving a jagged wound that smoked and sizzled.
The battle turned fierce and chaotic. Gabriel pressed head-on, his sword a whirlwind of precision and power. Every strike drove the sylphnoct back. “Stay behind me, my lady,” he called to her, even as a claw sliced across his shoulder, drawing a grunt of pain.
“I’m not hiding anymore,” Ro shot back. She yanked the heated Silversmith dagger from her boot and whipped it into the creature’s thigh. The sylphnoct staggered back.
Raphaela exploited the opening, leaping high to drive both blades into the spot where its arms and legs joined. The sylphnoct shrieked, the sound shattering the air.
They fought as a unit against the nightmare. Gabriel’s strength and experience held the center. Raphaela’s agility and ferocity harried the beast’s flanks. Ro’s smaller attacks kept it from a moment’s peace.
The dream-walker thrashed, and its form beginning to flicker between monstrous and eerily seductive, trying every trick. There were illusions of JT in danger, whispers of Anyka’s victory, visions of Ro’s own failure as queen.
It had to know it was losing.
“You cannot win,” the creature spat, its voice thin and weary. “The shadows rise. The crown will shatter—”
Gabriel’s blade swung in a final, devastating arc that rent it nearly in half. “Not while we stand.”
Raphaela sent daggers after her father’s strike, pinning the creature.
Ro had only Merediem left. She held it with both hands and threw it like a knife. It went straight into the creature’s heart. Or at least where she thought its heart might be.
The sylphnoct roared in pain as a column of brilliant white light engulfed it. The dream-walker’s scream cut off abruptly. Its form unraveled like the smoke from an extinguished candle, the strands scattering into harmless wisps carried away by the winds.
Silence fell. The willows straightened, their leaves turning green once more. The fog evaporated and the sun came out.
Gabriel turned to Ro, breathing hard, blood trickling from a cut on his cheek and another on his shoulder. His eyes softened with relief and deep concern. “Are you hurt?”
“Only a scratch,” she said, touching her arm. The wound was already fading. She reached for him, but her fingers passed through his shoulder like mist. The dream was unraveling, too. “Gabriel…Raphaela…”
Raphaela sheathed her blades, offering a fierce grin. “We’ve got your back, my lady. Always.” She bowed before her form began to dissolve.
Gabriel lingered a moment longer, his gaze holding Ro’s. “I’ll see you in the dawn.” Then he too faded, leaving her alone in a garden that had also begun to dissolve.
Everything went black.
Ro woke with a gasp, bolting upright in her bed. Morning light streamed through the tall windows. Benny meowed indignantly at being disturbed and hopped down to stroll out of the room.
Ro’s hand shot beneath the pillow. The braid was still there. She pulled it out, marveling at the power of such a simple thing.
“It worked,” she whispered, a wide smile breaking across her face. “Uldamar, you brilliant old wizard. It actually worked.”
The terror of the dream already felt distant, like a story she’d heard rather than something that had actually happened to her. She felt stronger and more powerful than ever. Gabriel and Raphaela had answered. The threat of the sylphnoct no longer felt like a threat at all.
She got out of bed, rang the bell to let the kitchen know she was ready for breakfast, then pulled on her robe.
Today, they were headed to Starfall to prepare to meet Beatryce. She wished the meeting was happening today instead of tomorrow. Ro had never felt so ready to face whatever was coming.
Breakfast arrived along with Luena and Helena. While the footmen laid out her meal on the dining table, she gave the young women her instructions. “Traveling clothes today, ladies. And for tomorrow, something strong and powerful. And royal.”
They nodded and went off to select her clothing.
She’d just sat down to eat when another voice called out from the foyer.
“My lady? May I enter?
Ro recognized Gabriel’s voice instantly. She smiled and called out, “Come in.”
He walked into the dining room looking as solid and real as he had in the dream—minus the wounds. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” She couldn’t stop smiling. She lifted her face to him.
He correctly interpreted her desire and met her with a kiss. “That was quite a night.”
“I’ll say. Have a seat.”
He took the closest chair. “You fought well.”
She shrugged. “Because it was a dream. I don’t think I’d manage that well in real life.”
“Still, you had the courage and confidence to make it happen.” Gabriel’s hand rose, hovering near her cheek where the sylphnoct had scratched her before he let it drop to his side. But the look in his eyes said far more. “I never thought I’d be fighting nightmares at your side.”
“Neither did I,” Ro agreed softly. “I’m so glad you and Raphaela were there. And for Uldamar for making it happen.”
“I don’t think that dream-walker will attempt that again. All the same, you should bring that braid with you to Starfall.”
“I will.”
The air between them hummed with unspoken things. She wanted to lean into him, to let him pull her into an embrace, but their engagement had not yet been announced. Soon.
Instead, she said, “Thank you. For answering. For being there for me. Even in my dreams.”
He covered her hand with his, warm and steady. “Always, Ro.”
The use of her name sent a flutter through her chest. Whatever happened with Malveaux, she was more than resolved to be done with it.
She had a kingdom to look after. And a man to marry.