Page 34 of Nightmare's Dance

Nic and Ash caught up with me, falling in next to me and not speaking.

“Ember,” Nic said quietly. “I’ll help you get your knight back.”

I slammed to a stop and spun to face him, anger flaring after my failure earlier. “Why the change in heart?” I snapped.

He twisted his lips. “One, I need your help to get home. Two, it’s the right thing to do.”

I bit back all my sarcastic replies, took a calming breath, and nodded. “Thank you. When do we start?”

He took a breath. “As much as I’d like to be home tonight, you need rest, and we need time to plan. We’ll decide on a course of action tomorrow.”

Just knowing we would try took a heavy weight from my shoulders. I wanted to start now, but Nic was right. Right now, I was almost tripping over my feet. I needed rest.

“Robby will be here tomorrow,” Ash reminded me. “We probably need to talk with him, and we have to figure out what to tell the cops. We can’t keep them looking for you if you’re not missing.”

“Ugh.”

“All of that can wait until you’ve slept,” Nic insisted.

“Okay. I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep, but I’ll try.” My mind raced, jolting adrenalin through me at the reminders Ash had thrown my way.

“Maybe Nic can tell you a bedtime story,” Ash suggested.

I frowned, glancing at her and wondering what she was up to.

“I’m a prince of Nightmare,” Nic said. “I doubt I know any suitably friendly stories.”

“Try.” With that, Ash went inside and headed for the room she used when she stayed over at the house, leaving me alone with Nic.

“Now I’m confused,” I admitted.

Nic also looked mystified. “Do you think she was serious?”

“I don’t know. Come on. I’ll at least show you my room.”

“Do you still draw?” Nic startled me by asking.

“Yeah, all the time. I even sell some of my art. I’d forgotten I’d shown you my sketchbook.”

“I recall you were quite good for an eight-year-old. Of course, I thought you were the best artist in the world.” He laughed, keeping his voice low.

“So did I.” I shrugged. “Self-confidence has never been a struggle for me.”

“Show me some of your newer art.”

Taking a breath, and realizing he was going to see a lot of pictures of Geraint, I headed for my room. Nic followed. His presence rubbed against me, velvety soft and cat-like, twining around my legs, rolling up my back and curling around my neck. The only other person who had that kind of effect on me was Geraint. I would have given almost anything to be with my knight right then. At the same time, I wanted to be back in Nic’s arms. He made me feel safe. Even if it was just an illusion, I wanted that right now.

I pushed open my bedroom door, shutting it behind us and leaving us in darkness. By memory, I moved to the desk and flipped on the lamp, bathing the room in a soft yellow glow that was enough for me to see by and would hopefully be comfortable for Nic.

“What does it mean that I’m the Nightmare princess?” I asked while Nic studied the pictures Geraint had put on the wall.

“Ultimately, if you don’t want the title, nothing. In the short term, it means you can repair mirrors and arches if you have shadow essence to work with and do a few other minor things. Were you to fully accept your place as our princess, you would gain other abilities. That is, obviously, a gross simplification.”

“Oh.”

Predictably, Nic found the framed drawing of me and Geraint. He tensed, partially melting into the shadowy form he favored.

“Do you need anything?” I could almost convince myself Nic wore some sort of black cloak instead of dissolving like he had.

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