Page 246 of Golden Eagle

He stared at her a moment. “What?”

~*~

Alexei went to the bathroom for a cold, damp cloth, and smoothed it across Dante’s brow and temples until he dropped into a fitful sleep; he more or less passed out, curled up tight in the fetal position.

He wasn’t surprised when a knock sounded at the bedroom door. When he opened it, Severin looked up at him with knotted brows and said, “I heard shouting.”

Coming to see if he could help – which was plainly the unspoken reason why he was standing there – was a decidedly human urge, and Alexei found himself stepping back and opening the door wider. “We were dream-walking,” he explained in a whisper. “And someone else joined us. He invaded the vision Dante had created. Someone claiming to be Roman.”

Severin only came a few steps into the room, standing up on his bare toes to peer at Dante with the air of a confused bird. “Romulus?” he asked, at mention of Roman, gaze snapping back to Alexei. He said the name like a child would sayboogeyman; the Institute had been warning him of the old king, then.

“I don’t think so.” He’d only seen Romulus in paintings, but the long, unkept hair and beard hadn’t struck him as classically Roman. “He was blond.”And looked like a Viking, he didn’t say. “Dante said he was a mage.”

Red brows lifted. Severin looked back toward the bed, hand lifting, hesitating. “May I?”

“What are you going to do?” Alexei bristled.

“Help him. Maybe.”

“How?”

“Fire’s not my only power.”

Dante shivered and twitched in his sleep, still whimpering quietly.

Alexei finally sighed and said, “Sure.”

Severin tip-toed to the bed, and looked down at Dante a long moment. When he reached down, it was with great care, and he set his hand light as thistledown on Dante’s forehead. A faint pulse of golden light appeared between his fingers, and then Dante sighed out, deeply, and his body stilled. His breathing settled into a deep, relaxed rhythm.

Severin drew back, chewing at his lip. “There was damage – an injury – to his brain. I repaired it.”

“You – yourepairedit?”

The boy turned to him. “I can heal fresh wounds. Usually. Old ones…not usually.”

Alexei blinked at him a moment, stupefied. “Well…that’s useful.” Another thought struck. “Do you mean a mage caused aphysical injuryto his brain through the astral plane?”

“Somehow. Yes.”

Alexei swallowed with difficulty, gaze going to the bed, to the now-slack, still-pale lines of Dante’s face.

He’s powerful. A binding could be beneficial for both of you – and for our cause, Dante had said earlier.

Alexei was more than considering it, now.

~*~

Mia rolled over again, and tried to right her pillow. Not that it was any use; she wasn’t going to fall asleep.

She heard Val shift behind her. “Is it the light, darling?” he asked. “I can draw the curtains tighter.”

She rolled over so she faced him. His hair was down, pooling like liquid silk across his neck, and his own pillow. “It’s not the light,” she said with a sigh. “I can’t stop thinking about tonight.”

A regretful smile tugged at his mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s me that’s the problem. Val, nobody knows who I really am. Who my dad is.”

“Fulk and Anna do.”

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