Chapter 67
Every time I resurface from the stupor of pain and nausea, invisible hands pull me back under.
My body is heavy and buoyant, aching and numb.
Heat covers my skin, burning my eyes. Within my bubble of silence, I’m unaware of anything happening around me.
I’m tugged from one place to another, rough hands on me, then soft. Cool. Then hot. Damp. Then Dry.
I’m standing on the bow of a ship, looking out over blue-green waters. The air is crisp; I’m in my summer cloak.
“Durvla?” a voice calls.
I spin to find Carys leaning against the mast, regarding me with confusion.
The sight almost makes me laugh because the first time I’d dreamwalked to her after leaving Paramount, I’d been the one at the mast with her gazing off into the ocean. Had she been contemplating death then? Or had she been contemplating life? Freedom?
A land beyond this one.
Could Sunlagh really take me to the land beyond the Veil like it’s sung in the songs?
“Gods, you look awful,” says Carys.
I press my hands against my face. Wherever my body lies now, it’s burning with fever. I can feel the sweat gathering on my skin each time I’m strong enough to temporarily resurface. Or perhaps it isn’t my body I’m feeling.
No, it’s definitely not my body.
I stare at Carys, trying to see past the perfect image of Erleya’s princess being projected. Momentarily, I’m met with a flushed face, hair different than I remember it, and eyes almost glowing gold. I jump, startled, and the image of Carys as I know her replaces what I just saw.
“I think … your body isn’t doing so well,” I admit.
My muscles feel weak, my knees barely able to keep my weight up, even in this dreamscape.
“Perhaps, neither is mine, actually.” Slowly, I sit on the deck of the ship, and Carys joins me.
Except she collapses onto her back, her hair spreading out around her like bedcovers.
Gingerly, I lay beside her. There are sounds around me that I cannot quite make out. Whether it’s the sound of the waves or the sound of the sails—I’m not sure I’ve ever heard them before with my physical ears.
For some time, I’m lost in it, until Carys speaks. “Did you bring me here?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t remember anything.”
“Hmm,” she murmurs thoughtfully.
“Do you remember anything?”
She blinks, her brows knitting together. “I think I’ve burned myself out. Too much power usage. Do you think I’m dead? Are you dead?”
A memory resurfaces, filled with darkness, but Tiernan’s face takes the foreground. I lurch upright, and Carys sits up right after.
“Durvla?” Her eyes widen with panic, shifting from that bright gold to the ochre I know. “Durvla,” she demands.
“I’m thinking …” Yet everything feels so odd and floaty. I’m not sure if I’ve ever been so exhausted—especially in a dream.
“Durvla. Should you be dreamwalking right now? You should conserve your energy.”
Grief hits me, everything flooding back to my mind all at once. I hold back the tears that threaten. If Carys isn’t doing well, then I shouldn’t burden her. Maybe I’m here by some divine intervention. To save her since I couldn’t save Tiernan. “Carys, I need you to promise me something.”
“Alright.”
“If anything happens to me, find the others at Siad Nahar. Don’t let the Zenith or the Purists take over. We have to stop them somehow.”
“Durvla, you’re going to be fine. But you really need to stop using your powers. Please wake up.” There’s a desperate edge to her voice.
I smile. “Only if you wake up first.” I reach out and grip her shoulder, and the dream falls away.
I blink as a face materializes above me. Grey eyes peer into mine. Then another face hovers. Blue hair. Her lips move, but I don’t make out anything she says.
The tears come hot and fast, blinding pain that isn’t physical hitting me. “We have to get Ti—” I’m unable to finish my sentence before I’m consumed by unconsciousness again.