Page 80 of The Onyx Covenant

“That’s—”

“Kieran,” I finish for him as we circle around to see the figure’s face.

Theron’s friend sits motionless, eyes closed, breathing so shallowly I can barely detect it. His skin has taken on an ashen quality, and thin silver lines—like the chains hanging from the willow—trace patterns across his exposed skin.

“Kieran!” Theron drops to his knees beside his friend, shaking him roughly. “Wake up!”

Kieran doesn’t respond, doesn’t even flinch at the contact. It’s as if he’s fallen into some deep trance or enchanted sleep.

“What happened to him?” I ask, kneeling on Kieran’s other side and checking his pulse. It’s there but slow and faint.

“I don’t know.” Theron’s voice is tight with concern. “Kieran! Come on, man, snap out of it!”

A soft laugh echoes above us, sending ice through my veins. I look up to see a figure sitting among the willow’s branches, partly concealed by the hanging chains, and I swear they were not there moments earlier.

“He can’t hear you,” the figure says, voice melodic yet unsettling. “He’s walked too deep into the dream.”

I stand slowly, trying to make out the speaker’s features. “Who are you? What did you do to him?”

The chains part as the figure leans forward, revealing a face both beautiful and terrifying. It appears female, with skin so pale it’s almost translucent, showing a network of silver veins beneath. Her eyes are completely white, without iris or pupil, and her hair flows around her like a living shadow.

“I did nothing,” she says, smiling to reveal teeth as sharp as the thorns that form the maze walls. “He came willingly, searching for something lost. The tree merely granted his desire—to see what cannot be seen, to know what cannot be known.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Theron demands, rising to his feet. “Release him. Now.”

The creature’s smile widens. “I cannot release what does not wish to be released. Your friend chose to drink from the roots of the Whisper Willow. His mind wanders pathways of possibility now.”

“The scream,” I say suddenly, remembering why we came running here in the first place. “We heard someone yell out. Was it Kieran? Or Rachel? Where is she?” I glance around.

She shrugs and smiles again. “The dark female wolf? She’s hiding somewhere close, terrified.”

“How do we help Kieran?” Theron asks, his voice slightly less hostile now that he knows the creature didn’t directly harm his friend.

The willow-woman gestures to the tree’s roots, where I now notice a small pool of silver liquid similar to what flowed in the fountain. “He drank to see. You must drink to find him and lead him back.”

“That’s not happening,” I say firmly. “We saw what that stuff did to Theron at the fountain. It’s some kind of mind control.”

The creature laughs again, the sound like glass breaking in slow motion. “Not control, little priestess. Revelation. The waters of the maze show truth—painful, beautiful, terrible truth. Some minds cannot bear it. Others…” Her white eyes fix on Theron. “Others are already touched by old magic and respond… differently.”

I glance at Theron, who stares at Kieran with conflicted emotions playing across his face. I know what he’s thinking—he won’t leave his friend here, trapped in some magical coma.

“I’ll do it,” he says finally. “I’ll drink and find him.”

“No!” I grab his arm. “We don’t know what that stuff will do to you. There has to be another way.”

“There isn’t,” the creature says simply. “One dreamwalker must find another. Such are the rules of the Whisper Willow.”

“Then I’ll go,” I decide, surprising even myself. “You had a bad reaction to the fountain. It might be worse here.”

Theron shakes his head vehemently. “Absolutely not. I’m not risking you.”

“And I’m not risking you,” I counter. “Kieran is your friend, but you’re my partner. If something happens to you, I’ll never forgive myself.”

The creature watches our exchange with evident amusement. “Both bound by concern for the other. How… touching.” The word drips with sarcasm. “But time passes differently in the dream. While you argue, your friend walks further away.”

I stare down at Kieran again, noticing that the silver lines on his skin have spread, now covering most of his visible flesh. His breathing has grown even shallower.

“I’m doing this,” I say with finality, meeting Theron’s eyes. “I’ve had priestess training. Mental discipline. If anyone has a chance of navigating this ’dream’ without getting lost, it’s me.”

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