Chapter 22 Bad Dreams
Bad Dreams
“Where the hell were you?” Erik folded his arms, hoping he looked forbidding.
Coming around the corner to find the liraim door open and both of them gone was a bad shock, but hearing them approach from downstairs was almost worse.
Both potential and Younger were silent, and when she reached the liraim door, she slammed it practically in Jake’s smug grin.
She hadn’t even noticed Erik in the shadows, his chest a sudden furnace and his knuckles tingling because his hands were fists. Had Jake tried something?
It was ridiculous. You didn’t turn against your brothers. But if Jake had tried sealing her… she was just a little thing, not bathed in the Flame yet, and she couldn’t fight off a Son.
Not yet, maybe not ever. There were laments sung of the liraim sealed against their will. It was never a happy occasion, but what was done was done, as the Fathers always said, and at least they weren’t holding gladiatorial bouts to win admittance to a lirai’s bed anymore.
Modernity was good for something other than firepower.
“Downstairs.” Jake was too busy preening to notice Erik’s expression, thankfully. He all but rubbed his callused hands together with glee. “Our lirai has now seen the range.”
Of all the… Words almost failed him, and Erik’s throat had turned dry as baked glass. “You took her there?” he croaked.
“Yeah, she wants to fire a gun. Can you imagine?” Jake’s grin was as wide and sunny as ever.
He hooked his thumbs in his belt and shook his golden head.
It was a good thing their conversation would only be a formless whisper through the baffle—and the sound of thumping a Younger on his silly, stubborn head wouldn’t get through, either.
“Even asked me when we’d teach her. Monster hunting, she calls it. ”
“Father’ll have your hide.” And if he doesn’t, I might take it myself.
“He’d have to find out.” Jake eyed him sidelong, a flash of bright blue. “You gonna tell him?”
“Not sure.” It wasn’t a threat; Erik just liked to turn things over inside his head before he reached any decision. Hopefully his little brother would realize as much. “Did you let her shoot?”
“Hell no.” Jake shook his head, looking horrified and baffled at once.
“A lirai starts shooting, all of a sudden they think they don’t need us anymore, right?
Besides, she’d just as likely empty a clip into me and take off running.
She was looking at every damn window like she wanted to throw herself through. ”
I don’t blame her. “It’s what potentials are like.” They went over the list of potentials’ coping mechanisms in training—worst, and most dangerous, was the apathy that ended in suicide attempts.
Hopefully that could be avoided. Round-the-clock watch was invasive, and one of them might have to seal her, just to keep her from doing herself some harm.
“Like you know.” But Jake shook his head, robbing the observation of any sting. “You okay? Look a little rough.”
Not as cute as you, huh? That’s all right. “Bad dreams.”
“You too?”
Now that he was closer, he could see a touch of pink on Jake’s eyelids, faint circles shadowing underneath.
He wasn’t drooping yet, but if both of them were having a rough time in REM, it meant that a potential’s strengthening was affecting them—and the Mad God, in his blind, crawling way, had no doubt taken notice.
Of all the things the Mad God liked, draining potentials dry and snacking on their bones was top of the list. Full lirai were slightly more difficult prey—but only slightly. They needed more Sons, not just to keep her safe but also to watch each other.
It would only take a moment of inattention to invite catastrophe. “Listen,” he said, softly. “Father’s been trying to get hold of other temples. No luck.”
Jake froze for a few moments, then his blue gaze swung to lock with Erik’s. “No luck?”
“Control isn’t responding.” It could be a temporary communications outage, since the Mad God would know by now that a potential had been found by frontliners. Affecting electronic or voice communication with sorcery was a game both sides could play. “I think he’s worried.”
“Then we should be, too.”
“Yeah.” Erik’s shoulders were relaxing; the liraim door was right there, and she was safely inside.
With any luck, she wouldn’t find out how much danger she was truly in until they had her safely in a real temple with other lirai and access to the Flame.
“As far as I can tell, he’s going to follow orders.
Maybe it is better to wait for longer days before we move her.
” The winter solstice was generally the worst time for the whispers, and for the shadowbeasts to come out and play.
“Stationary defense is better defense,” Jake quoted, chapter and verse. “A few can hold against many.”
“So you were listening in tactics classes.”
“Well, yeah. It was just easier to copy your answers.” Jake grinned, tilting his head again, scratching at his cheek.
It was an attitude of deep thought, and Erik patiently waited for his little brother to get to the same place he had.
“I’m packed anyway, but I’ll polish everything twice. Should we say something to her?”
“Probably not.” Erik didn’t want the lirai worried. She had more than enough to deal with. “But, listen. Maybe you could pack something for her just in case? Clothes, energy bars, first aid kit, something for her to do in the car.”
“Like a toddler.” Jake’s mouth turned down at both corners; he was used to being the only—albeit heavily armed—child in sight.
“An angry one.” When someone didn’t understand certain dangers, it was even more important to protect them, right? It didn’t help that the girl had a double dose of both smarts and bravery. The foolhardy died first in battle, and she wasn’t even trained. “Speaking of which, how’s she feeling?”
“Feeling?”
“Yeah. Because we should care.” Erik kept his own face a wall, but Jake was staring at him like he’d grown another head. “I’m gonna be on guard duty later, all right? I want to know what I’m facing.”
“You like her.” Jake shook his head, a cat dislodging a few drops of cold water. “You really like her.”
“Aren’t we supposed to?” It was hard not to admire the Dreamers once you knew what they’d accomplished, even if the sacrifice was thousands of years ago.
The fact that they kept continuing the fight—not to mention the relief they provided from the Mad God’s rancid, teasing, tempting whispers—just made the debt deeper.
“Plus, she’s smart. A lesser woman would’ve given up by now. ”
“I don’t think give up is in this girl’s dictionary.” Grudging admiration underlined the words, which was a good sign. It was when Jake got dismissive and quiet that you had to look out. “You can finish my guard shift and take yours, then.”
“Why, you got a hot date?”
“With my pillow, bro.” Jake tipped him a salute, turned, and set off down the hall. He only went a few steps before swinging back around, though. “Listen, Erik…”
He waited, but silence filled up the hall like creeping, heavy gas in a mineshaft. That wasn’t like Jake at all, so Erik made a noncommittal noise. “Hm?”
In other words, I’m not going to judge you, spit it out.
“Nothing. Probably just tired.” Younger Brother’s shoulders dropped and he vanished down the hall, boots soundless as dry leaves on the back of a hard wind.
Erik watched that end of the hallway for a few long minutes, trying to decide if he was honestly worried or it was the god whispering in his head, sowing dissent and distrust. He stepped closer to the liraim door, but the pressure didn’t diminish.
However, an unfamiliar thought struck him. Yule was close. When the tide turned and the days lengthened they’d take her to a proper temple, and it would be Erik shoving her into the Flame until it took. She was going to hate him, but maybe he could get ahead of the curve just a little?
He settled next to the door, his shoulders against the wall, and thought it over.