Page 36 of House of Gilded Nightmares

When we reach the other side, Zyren points to a set of stairs leading up through the rock, similar to the ones in the stable that led to this level. “Riya’s chambers are up there.”

He turns and walks in the opposite direction, leading the way through a series of rooms filled with all manner of contraptions. Star gazers and vats of chemicals and strange metal boxes that hum and whistle. My eyes grow wider the further we explore.

“Riya dabbles in a great many things,” Zyren says, his tone holding fondness. “Not only magic, but stars and alchemy and herbs and…well, I don’t even know the half of it.”

“She seems like an amazing woman,” I respond, trying to keep the wistful tone from my voice.

“She is,” he says with a small smile.

As we approach the roaring falls again on this side of the compound, Riya appears from a tunnel at the back of one of the rooms. “Ah, I see you’ve given your guest a tour. Perfect timing, as dinner is about ready to be served.”

My burning curiosity as to where the tunnel leads is instantly answered when Riya leads us into it. It runs beneath the riverbed, coming out on the other side of the compound, and as it happens, into the main dining room. This room is much grander than the smaller room near the guest suite. The table is three times as large, the lighting overhead a grand chandelier. It also travels deeper into the mountainside than most of the other rooms, no doubt in part due to the proximity to the falls. But it is so finely decorated that it looks no different than one of the great halls in the Amethyst Palace.

I’ve just taken my seat at the huge table, Zyren across from me and Riya at the head, when a small dragon enters the room, walking upright on his hind legs. He’s wearing an apron of golden fabric over his purple scales. My eyes nearly pop out of my head.

“Zyren, you remember Wyn, of course,” Riya says.

“How are you, Wyn?” Zyren asks the dragon. He points to me. “This is Sarielle.”

“Pleased to meet you,” the dragon says, tiny wisps of smoke coming from his mouth.

“And you,” I say quickly, pasting a smile on my face.

Wyn carries two large silver pitchers of water, which he leaves on the table before disappearing into yet another mystery tunnel. I try not to stare after him, reminding myself that I’ve lived a very sheltered life behind the walls of the Amethyst Palace. Perhaps dragon butlers are commonplace in other realms.

As Wyn begins to bring out course after course of food, Zyren and Riya talk animatedly about everything they’ve done in recent years and regale me with a great many stories of the past. I’ve never seen Zyren smile so much, even the night with the Veyeni. I can barely get a word in, not that I want to rob them of their chance to catch up. It makes me happy to see Zyren so lighthearted, even while it sends a spike of pain through my chest, yet another reminder that this is something I will never have. Not with Zyren or with anyone. It’s simply not the fate I’ve been handed in this life.

After the last course has been served, I claim exhaustion and leave Zyren and Riya at the table. When I get back to my room, I immediately crawl beneath the covers. I lay there for some time, listening to the river and wondering what my life will become in just a few short days.

Chapter Fourteen

My dreams are a tangle of images.

I see myself sitting on a throne in a vast, empty room, all alone. I see nightmares hunting me through the mountains, skimming the clouds, bending all their will to finding me. And I see a young man standing at the edge of a graveyard, watching as a gleaming mahogany casket is lowered into the earth a few feet away. It’s this last one that sucks me in, that wins out over the others. The emotions within it so raw, so vivid. I can even smell the wet earth as the grave is filled in.

Sweat dampens my skin as I sit upright in bed, the barrage of it all finally waking me. It takes me a moment to remember where I am, but then I hear the river. I push back the blankets covering me, my skin flushed and radiating heat. Quietly, I walk through the arched doorway out onto the walkway along the river. The night air cools my skin, and I sit on the stone ledge and scoop a handful of icy water, running it over my face and around to the back of my neck.

It’s clear my dreams have collided with Zyren’s again. The boy in the graveyard was his dream, and it overpowered even my fear of the nightmares seeking me or the pain of loneliness as I contemplated my future as queen. Is it normal for a guardian and their ward to share this way? A result of the bond between us? I close my eyes and let out a long sigh.

A loud splash to my left pops them open again.

I look down the river about fifty feet, where it cascades over one of the stone walls, creating a pool of silvery water before it. The surface of the water is fractured with ripples where something broke the surface. My eyes scan back and forth, but I can’t see anyone standing on the ledge on either side of the river. A fish, perhaps? Though it would have to be an awfully large fish to create such a splash.

And then, in the bright moonlight, I see a head emerge from the water. It shines blue-black, a serpentine creature with soft spikes along its neck. Twisting and undulating, it dives beneath the surface again, revealing a long, thin body covered in the same soft spikes and ending in a frilled tail. As it travels through the water, diving and resurfacing, sometimes floating along the surface momentarily, it is both beautiful and also, unmistakably, a nightmare.

My heart explodes in my chest. They found me after all, even here so high in the mountains.

Slowly, so slowly, I slide backward on the smooth stone toward my room, grateful I’m hidden in the shadows of the overhang. I keep my eyes glued to the silvery pool in the distance as I move, but the creature doesn’t seem to have noticed me. When I move behind the arched doorway into my room, I stand, legs shaking, and move quickly to Zyren’s room on the other side of mine.

He looks like a god of night lying there in his bed, pale sheets contrasting with his skin and hair. Even in his sleep he looks fierce, his muscles taut. His breathing is slow and even, opposite of mine, which comes in ragged gasps. I stop next to him on the side of the bed, hesitating only a moment before reaching out to shake his arm. My fingers don’t even make it within six inches of him.

Zyren moves like a lion pouncing. In one fluid movement, he grabs me and rolls me over the top of him, landing in a straddle with his knife at my throat. My breath leaves my lungs in a small gasp. His thighs pin me in place, and despite my fear, heat flashes where the bulk of him presses against me in a very delicate place. He’s wearing loose silky pants, but his chest is bare. His blade is an icy kiss against my skin.

“Sarielle,” he breathes, eyes widening as he pulls his dagger back. “What is it?”

I can’t find my voice for a moment. “N-Nightmare,” I manage at last. “In the river.”

He rolls off of me, standing up in another graceful singular movement. “Stay here,” he commands as he turns and strides for the river.

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