Page 120 of Silverbow
That muscle in Oryn’s jaw ticked again. “She is.”
“In what way?”
He rubbed at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Do you know what it is Maia would have asked her to do?”
Colm had never known the girl queen, but he was fairly certain he knew where Enya was headed once they got to Misthol.Thatomission might very well land his head on a pike once Oryn worked it out. But Enya had made a bargain she had to see through, and if he knew, Oryn wouldn’t let her within fifty miles of the city. He blew out a long breath. “I can’t say.”
“Can’t or won’t?” By the look in his glacial gaze, Colm knew he didn’t have to answer. Oryn already knew. He went back to prodding at the fire. “Just don’t let her get herself killed, Colm.”
“I’ll do what I can.”
Oryn rubbed at his eyes again. “How big exactly do you think a dragon-sized debt is?”
Colm sighed. “A hundred years and you’re still making shit bargains, Oryn.”
***
Colm stood in Valdosonos, studying the brilliant green and silver ribbon that belonged to the Silverbow. It shouldn’t be here at all, yet it was, and it carried the residue of his dream ward. It coated the aurora like a shimmering silver net. It was perfectly intact, but he’d never seen a warded dream in Valdosonos before.
He’d been hesitant to return after Hylee revealed she could access this place, lest he find the witch waiting for him in the shadows. Meeting her here would be like meeting her naked and defenseless, though he supposed with how her power had swelled, it was the same as meeting her anywhere else. Still, he made his visits brief and found himself tiptoeing between the dreams of his companions, holding his breath.
He bent again to study the netting around the ribbon. He had learned all he could by looking. Hesitantly, he reached out to touch the aurora. Where the ward should have kept him out, the light suddenly pulsed, reaching for him. Colmtried to scramble back, but it had already seized hold of him and sucked him into her dream.
His boots crunched over the charred remnants of a battlefield. Acrid smoke still billowed into the air and the cries of dying men rose up all around him. He had seen charred land like this once before, but this vision had the warped and blurred edges of the future. His stomach churned as he strode for where Enya stood. She held a quarterstaff pressed to the chest of a girl sprawled on the ground, seemingly locked in some battle with herself.
Colm peered down at the girl and gave a start. Violet eyes stared up out of the face of a girl with moon white hair. Blood, both red and black, was spattered across the delicate features of her face. Smoke still curled from her singed clothes.
“Sanctuary,” she coughed.
He turned his gaze up to Enya. Her eyes had the vacant, haunted look he’d seen on battlefields time and time again. Whatever had happened here had shocked her into numbness. She too wore the remnants of battle on her skin. Her braid ended in a burnt nub at her shoulder, but it was her garb that made his breath catch.Another title for the list.
Around him, the vision swirled in a kaleidoscope of color. The smoky battlefield was replaced by the dim interior of a finely furnished tent. His boots sank into the layered rugs underfoot. A mountain of furs and blankets made up a plush bed and a full length mirror with a gilded frame sat beside a dressing table. Enya gazed into it as she ran a brush through her hair.
Her eyes searched the dim corners of the tent as if looking for something. Colm cast a look around, frowning. And then he saw it. The shadowy form of a man drifted forward on silent feet. He blinked, trying to puzzle out what exactly he was seeing, and then he caught the flash of silver in the dim lamplight. The shadow wielded a dagger.
Colm tried to pull away from the dream, tried to open his door to step back to the waking world and found himself trapped in this strangely warded nightmare. Panic seized hold of him when Enya’s blood sprayed.
Oryn
Thousands of stars glittered overhead as he lay awake listening to Enya mutter in her sleep. It was her usual list and sometimes Liam’s name. Hylee had mentionedhim bleeding somewhere, and he was again wondering who the stablemaster’s son was to her when a scream suddenly shattered the silence.
Oryn shot from his blanket roll, closing the distance between them in a single stride. He grabbed her by the shoulders as she kicked and thrashed. She clawed for his face, her nails raking a path through his skin. Reluctantly, he clamped a hand over her mouth to quiet her, grunting as an elbow connected with his middle.
“Enya,” he said softly as she struggled against him. “Enya, it was only a dream.”
His companions sat up, scanning the night for signs of trouble.
She stopped thrashing and it took Oryn a moment to register the warm wetness that met his palm where it lay against her skin. Tears were streaming down her face in a rush. He released the hand over her mouth, but not the one gripping her shoulder. When she didn’t recoil, he hoped that marked some sign of progress.
He peered around at Colm. Three spears of silver spirit stretched toward her, probing. The oily feeling of unease coated his insides. If Colm was delving her without asking, something had gone terribly wrong.
“What happened?” He asked gruffly.
“The dream ward snapped,” he answered hoarsely, his face pale. “I…I was pulled in.”
Oryn held Enya out at arm’s length, scanning her face. The severing of a wielding could have devastating consequences, and one touching her mind could be disastrous. “Are you alright, Enya?”
She blinked, letting two more fat tears fall before she looked down at the hands he had wrapped around her arms. Her eyes rose slowly back to his face. “Have you run out of uses for your hands, Gargoyle?”
