Page 167 of Of Nine So Bold

I couldn’t even breathe. There was no weight to his hand, only a stronger tingling like my shoulder had gone numb. And as for the man himself, he was obviously a giant, not a dwarf, but his eyes… his nose…

Were they familiar somehow? Maybe even sort of like mine?

My gaze darted faster over the figure as my heart raced. Even made of light, there was a suggestion of brown in the giant’s skin, as if the stone-like flesh would have resembled brown marble in life.

A slightly darker shade of my own olive tone.

I couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t possible. Was I really related to this man? This… gods, thisking?

The apparition’s head tilted downward slightly, his gaze dropping toward me, though his eyes weren’t focused and his eyes stared through me.

But it felt like he was looking at me all the same.

“Welcome, my son. Welcome, heir to the crown and throne of Erenelle.”

The words boomed out over the room, though the figure’s mouth didn’t move.

A hushed wave of surprised and alarmed murmurs from the giants greeted the words, but I could barely make them out over the rushing of my own blood in my ears.

Son? Heir? Had the figure of thekingjust called me his son and heir?

The apparition’s head rose again, his gaze leaving me, and his other hand moved, lifting the shimmering sword. I tensed, trying not to recoil as he tilted the blade forward.

But he didn’t strike. He pointed.

Straight at Roan.

“Welcome, son of his mother. Welcome, brother to the crown.”

Roan froze. I did too. He… That wasn’t… He couldn’t mean Roan was my…

Oh. I knew what this was. I must be dreaming. Honestly, I couldn’t believe that hadn’t occurred to me before. I must have hit my head in the mines, and this all was a fiction my brainhad concocted to cope with the trauma and swelling that would probably kill me if left untreated.

So I needed to wake up. Any minute now, really. I obviously needed medical assistance, so any second now would be?—

The sword moved, the tip pointing at each of my friends and Gwyneira. “Welcome, the Nine.”

Oh, gods, not that again. Even my dreams couldn’t stop telling us we were in danger.

The apparition drew the blade back, returning the sword to its upright position in his grip. “The shield of Erenelle stands ready to defend this world.” Tilting his chin higher, his expression imperious and solemn, the king stared into the distance as if all our futures played out before his eyes. “The skies shall fall.”

The glow on the water faded, taking the figure of the king with it, until only the empty air and the ruins of the temple remained.

Silence reigned supreme.

“King Archerias has spoken,” Ignatius announced, his voice a bit faint, as if even he was shaken. “The waters of Syloria have spoken. By the laws and rites of our people, their word will be obeyed. All hail King Niko of Erenelle!”

Chaos really was too mild a word for the giants’ reactions.

People shouted. Others stared like I’d suddenly sprouted three heads. Several more had the strangest expressions of relief, like maybe they’d secretly hoped I would be chosen and not the duke.

And Istillhadn’t woken up.

“It’s a fucking trick!” Norbert yelled. “The dwarves did something to the water! To the spell!”

Brock stared at us. I couldn’t read his expression at all.

Ignatius’s shout carried over the cries of the crowd. “That was not all King Archerias said!”

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