10 #2
A sudden crack split the air.
The platform beneath us shuddered. Would it break apart, dropping us into the fire?
That hardly seemed like a fair trial, especially since we’d been warned not to use our wings.
The dreamers shifted uneasily, nerves threatening to burst. One wrong step and we’d have far worse than burned hair.
But just as I feared we’d burn alive in the fiery abyss, the flames ebbed.
And then a new chamber unfurled around us.
The cavernous expanse, vast and silent, had a domed ceiling and faraway walls glistening as though they were coated in pitch-black blood.
Every faint noise dissolved into the void around us, swallowed by the water that had replaced the fire below.
An ancient-looking gate loomed at the far side of the chamber, its stone weathered by time and marked with unfamiliar glyphs.
There was no bridge, however, to this gate.
Just dark water in all directions. I bit the inside of my cheek, all too aware that landscapes in dreams were rarely what they seemed.
Despite Erebus’s protests, my feet found their way to the edge.
The water’s surface was so perfectly smooth that it reflected our faces with eerie clarity.
I squinted, beholding my reflection. It was me, but she seemed sullen.
Unhappy, even. Her eyes felt lifeless, her body gaunt.
But her fingers and neck were the strangest—slightly too long and twitching.
I was unmoving, entirely still. Why was my reflection twitching?
When my reflection’s lips began to curve up in a smile, I spun around.
I wasn’t alone. Every dreamer was haunted by a twisted, shadowed version of themselves that stared back, hollow eyed, from below.
Sorren was scowling daggers at his reflection, which was scowling right back at him.
Ceveon made a face at his, scoffing when it did not respond.
Erebus, meanwhile, was too busy surveying the cavern to bother peering at his.
Typical.
“Look there,” Erebus noted, directing my attention to the far left side of the platform. “In that patch of water where no dreamers are reflected.”
At his direction, I noted dozens of small stones set just underneath the surface, hardly large enough for one foot at a time. It was a crooked bridge of sorts, except one misstep would immediately plunge dreamers into the depths. No wonder we’d been told we couldn’t use our wings.
A shiver of dread curled in my stomach.
“I’ll go first,” Erebus said, just loud enough for me to hear.
“I can go first,” I said, shaking my head. “I can do this, I—”
“I know you can,” he said, hands clasping my shoulders with a gentleness that contradicted the fierceness in his tone. “But I want to try.”
“Try what?”
He cleared his throat, looking a bit sheepish. “Leading.”
The knots in my stomach began to relax. “Then lead,” I said, a smile tugging at my lips. “Just don’t try to sacrifice yourself for my sake, please. Your hair has suffered enough.”
Erebus returned my smile, untwisting the last of my knots. He lifted his hands from my shoulders, shadows pooling around his gauntlets. He commanded the writhing darkness toward the water’s surface, creating a tenuous line over the stones. A clear path that the dreamers could follow.
“Step carefully,” he began, cutting through the stillness. He also sent the command through our bonds. “Tread with caution. This trial is about focus and restraint. So let your shadows guide you. Do not look down at the reflections in the water. They do not serve us.”
Without hesitation, without even lowering his gaze, he stepped on the first stone.
His foot, long and armored as it was, barely fit.
With a nervous swallow, I matched his steps, followed by Ceveon and Sorren.
The rocks were smooth and small, barely wide enough to cradle my own feet, and slick enough that I needed to focus on one footstep at a time.
The rest of the dreamers mirrored us, taking their own tentative steps onto the slippery rocks.
Although none spoke of it, their dread was tangible; it seeped from them like a poisonous mist. The dreamers’ shadows rose to meet Erebus’s line, desperate to cling to his lead.
I took another step.
Another.
My footing was becoming more certain, my steps more regular.
Erebus’s thread of shadow was constant and easy to follow—a testament to his ferocious determination.
It gave me courage when nothing else could, even when my dark reflection beckoned below my feet.
I bit my lip, hastily forcing a smile when Erebus checked to see how I was doing.
I’m fine.
I’m fine.
I’m—
A strangled cry halted our careful steps. One of the dreamers, a freckled young man who had recently joined our ranks, had collapsed near the first stone. He was trembling, hands clawing at his knees. Then he lurched over as if he might vomit into the water.
He froze at whatever he saw reflected in its depths.
A scream formed at his mouth, bubbling over his tongue—but the clawed hand that shot up from the water was faster. He gasped, sputtered, and finally screamed, stumbling backward into a second dreamer. The water churned violently, producing another clawed hand, mottled and impossibly large.
Are those six fingers?
Seven?
Before anyone could react, both dreamers were yanked into the depths. Their screams cut off abruptly as they were swallowed, leaving only ripples and a scattering of bubbles on the surface.
The shock of their removal was like a noose tightening around our collective necks.
Some let out strangled cries, covering their mouths; others appeared frozen and pale.
The water had taken the dreamers quickly—too quickly.
As though it had been stalking them, waiting for the first sign of weakness.
I could palpably feel the tension rising, an unspoken question lurking in everyone’s minds: Who will be next?
Erebus’s voice cut through the chaos.
“Fear gives the water power!” he roared, silver eyes flashing as his attention swept over the group.
It was as if he was trying to look into the eyes of every dreamer—to meet them face-to-face and instill bravery into their veins.
He also spoke through our bond. “Just as it gives our enemies power. But we are more than our fear. If you let fear take hold, it will claim you. Do not let it take you.” My chest swelled with pride at his leadership.
Even in this wretched place, he was a beacon.
An unyielding blade purging the night of its deepest shadows.
“We have been tasked with the fate of Noctis and the Realm—so let us prove our worth. Keep your eyes forward. We move as one.”
His words lingered in the air, a stark reminder of what lay at stake.
“Stay close to one another,” I added, fortifying my voice to sound as confident as Erebus did. “Focus on each step and let the shadows guide you. Don’t give in. Don’t look down.”
Don’t give in.
Don’t look down.
Sweat beaded on the back of my neck. I wanted to do nothing but look down. Something was in the water, and it was watching us.
“The Weavers didn’t mention there would be demons in this trial,” Ceveon noted, keeping his pace behind me. “Even if they’re an illusion, we should try to kill them.”
From somewhere behind Ceveon, Sorren made an exasperated sound. “Yes, in the trial of restraint, judgment, and friendly teamwork, let us tear the demonic illusions limb from limb in a bloody frenzy.”
“They attacked us first,” Ceveon replied, bristling. “It would be justified. You just don’t want to sully your hands.”
Sorren sighed. “That is precisely what they want us to do, my dear fool. Now be silent, before another dreamer hears and agrees with you.”
The path of rocks was impossibly narrow. Dreamers quieted, focusing on their steps. Below our feet, the water had grown eerily calm. Sated, perhaps. But the sensation of being watched was still tangible.
A low, sinister murmur slid through the water, directly under my feet.
“They only follow you because they’re afraid, not because they believe in you,” the water-bound voice warbled, creeping up my skin like a layer of frost. “It was a mistake for you to be given such godly power. You couldn’t even save me.…”
The words were a knife twisting in my chest. For a moment, I faltered, glancing down as a face formed in the water. A face I knew too well.
Eden.
I sucked in a breath. It had been so long since I’d seen her. I leaned forward. All I wanted to do was hold her—
Just then, another dreamer stumbled, shouting as the water rippled and splashed by her feet. A voice from the water taunted her, dredging up insecurities and memories left buried.
“They left you,” a voice keened to her from the water. A clawed hand, green and peeling, snaked around her ankle, caressing it. “Abandoned you like you were nothing.…”
Hundreds of hands leapt from the water, grabbing for dreamers’ legs.
Erebus’s guiding tether, uniting us all, splintered.
No.
“Every step is a lie,” another voice snarled, this time to a different dreamer. Hundreds of disoriented cries garbled from the water, forming a dissonant chorus. “You don’t belong here, and you never will.…”
“Even in death, you’re worthless. A dreamer no one wants.…”
“Your children never loved you; they wished you were dead.…”
“You’re the reason he gave up. You put your selfish needs over his.…”
The dreamers staggered, crying out as they fought to avoid the hands, but there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to turn. Nowhere to escape. They swayed on the rocks, slipping and stumbling. The water surged, clawed hands poised to drag them down.
“Forget them all. They are weak,” snarled the voice in my head.
They’re not weak, I thought back, furious.
“Save yourself; they do not need you.”
Erebus needs me. The dreamers need me, too.