dream. It had begun as a memory at first, which had turned into a nightmare. I’d dreamed of my father, of his handsome, sun-kissed face and the wrinkles around his eyes. Of his laughter and smiles, even when we were hungry. Of the toys and games he’d created to keep us entertained, sticks and twigs that had become Dakkari warriors as we, the humans, battled them fiercely and won. Maxen had always whined when he had to play a Dakkari warrior.
Then I dreamed of a Vorakkar. A familiar Vorakkar with piercing red eyes and a deep scar running down his face. He bit my neck, drawing my blood, and then he stood over my father and cut his throat.
Gasping for air, my hands flew to my own neck, my eyes going wide, my chest pinched and tight. I sat up, struggling to breathe, tears streaming down my face.
It was only then that I realized I was being watched…by the very same Vorakkar I’d dreamed of. He was sitting in the chair, which was back in its rightful place close to the bed, not propped up against the door. His eyes were glowing red in the darkness.
“What is it that you fear, leikavi?” he murmured.
“You,” I breathed, still reeling from the dream, my mind spinning. I hadn’t dreamed of my father’s death in months. “And everything else.”
“What is it that you dreamed?” he asked next, never taking his gaze off my face.
My heartbeat was beginning to slow, though only slightly now that I knew he was in the room again. Blowing out a shuddering breath, I looked around the room, casting my gaze around to see if we were alone.
The fire was almost dead, flickering pitifully in the golden basin. Outside the window, I saw the early signs of dawn, streaks of red coloring the sky, though it was still dark. Not only that, I realized I was in the bed, underneath the soft, plush furs.
I’d curled up on the floor, in the corner, and I must’ve drifted off. But that meant he’d put me here. It meant he’d tucked the furs underneath my chin. Had he been watching me this whole time?
I commented, “You haven’t returned me to the dungeon.”
Tensing, I watched as he leaned forward in the chair. He grabbed a bundle from the ground and flung it across the bed. I saw they were clothes. Thick pants and a heavy tunic, similar to the one I was wearing. Boots and a fur cloak completed the bundle.
Surprised, I studied him.
“They will be big on you but they were the smallest I could find,” he explained, his tone a little gruff…as if he was unused to having to explain anything.
“What…what does this mean?”
“I will help you find a heartstone.”
My breath hitched. “You’ll help me?”
“How could I not when what you offered me is so tempting?” he murmured and I sucked in another breath that had nothing to do with relief.
He would help me at a price then. One I’d freely offered to him last night, though right now, sitting up in the bed in the early hours of morning, I didn’t know what had possessed me to offer such a thing.
Desperation made fools of us all.
I decided to ignore the implications of the deal I’d made with him for now. Instead, I asked him, “You spoke with the Dothikkar? He will give Lozza what he desires?”
His lips pressed together and he leaned forward until his elbows were resting on his thighs. His hair, now unbound around his shoulders, fell over one side of his face.
“Lysi,” he told me. “He will agree to the terms.”
Relief whistled through me, bright and clear. It was the first good news I’d had in a long time…perhaps ever.
“We leave as soon as you dress,” he continued. “Our journey will be long and hard. I hope you know how to ride a pyroki.”
I swallowed audibly. He knew perfectly well that I never would have ridden one before, so I chose to say nothing.
Instead, I climbed out of the bed and grabbed the pants, beginning to dress. I pulled them up and tied the sash around my waist as tight as it would go, all too aware of the intensity of his gaze. When it came time to change my tunic, I turned my back to him, pulling the one I was wearing over my head and dropping it to the ground.
It was silly to desire privacy when he had already seen my naked body.