Page 154 of Skalterra By Nightmare
“We’re in danger,” I cried. “My friends, they’re going to die. Orla—”
“It was just a dream.” It was hard to see him through the film of tears. “You’re okay, alright?”
I choked on a sob and fell into his arms.
I’d failed.
I’d failed.
I’d failed.
And who would believe me if I tried to explain?
Liam’s arms tightened around me, and his fingertips brushed the buzzed hair at the nape of my neck.
“I’ve got you,” he promised. “Just breathe.”
I shuddered in his arms, trying to feel for both Galahad and Ciarán. Both connections were dead. I had no way back to Skalterra.
I balled my fists against Liam’s back.
With no way back, I’d just have to be ready to face Ferrin when he reached this side of the Rift.
Ferrin who had been kind and helpful and fatherly, though that last one was embarrassing to admit even to myself.
I didn’t care what he and Ciarán said about me not being a killer. If he hurt Orla, I’d make sure Ferrin choked to death on his own blood and bile.
“You’ve been asleep all day,” Liam murmured. “I found you on the floor, but you were covered in goosebumps, so I put you in bed. Sorry, I promise I just washed the sheets.”
I pried myself away from Liam’s embrace.
“I was looking for you. You were late for Riley’s memorial, and I thought maybe…” I trailed off. That morning felt like a lifetime away.
“I skipped it,” Liam admitted softly. “The reception is still going on at Siobhan’s, but I didn’t want to leave you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Liam insisted. Fresh tears welled in my eyes, and I tried to wipe them away, but the wound I’d gouged into my own hand stung. “Do you want me to call Ethel?”
I froze. Gams would only worry. She’d call Mom. She’d be angry I let myself pass out in Liam’s room and had kept him away from Riley’s reception.
“Yes, please.”
He gave me a smile and took his phone into the hall. I gathered Liam’s blankets around me, trying to stifle the shivers that continued to wrack my body, trying to get that final image of Galahad out of my head. But it was there, imprinted on my mind so vividly that I could smell and taste the iron of the blood that trickled from between his lips and ran into his silver beard.
“Ethel, it’s about Wren.” Liam’s muted voice echoed from the hallway. “Yeah, she’s here, but she seems a bit shaken…”
I pressed my fingers against my ears, shame and panic both fighting for my attention.
Orla and Fana were going to die, and I had no way to stop it.
“Here.” Liam reappeared at my side with a glass of water. He clicked the bedside lamp on, and I turned away so he wouldn’t see my red eyes and the tears I’d smeared across my face. “Can I see your hand?”
He sat back down on the bed and placed gauze and bandages on the blanket between us. I hesitated with my fingers curled inwards to hide my palm, but then relinquished my hand to Liam.
In the light of the lamp, I could see how much damage I’d managed to deal to my palm, but through the angry, bleeding marks, there was no sign of Galahad’s cursed scars.
“You weren’t kidding when you said your nightmares are bad.” Liam swabbed an antiseptic over the wound, and I hissed at its sting.
