A Prince Among Killers - By J. B. Redmond Page 0,67

his nightmares, no matter how consistent and disturbing they might be.

Would Dari approve of him going through the Veil alone today?

She was in no shape to help him—and he would be completing the exercise with no intention to cause harm or take action, only to seek information. Ultimately, he wanted to decrease his own anxiety, and improve his own temper, too. Those were reasonable aims.

Aron called a halt to his inner debate and relaxed into the darkness, letting his body grow still, allowing his breathing to assume a rhythm and pattern conducive to going through the Veil. When he next opened his eyes, the darkness seemed just as dark. Blacker than before, and deeper, as if the air itself were made of some deep velvety fabric. He reached out with the essence of his hand, stroked the space before his eyes, but felt nothing.

It really was relaxing, being here in this dark place. He wished he hadn’t avoided it for so long, and sacrificed such an effective method of calming his own mind.

Iko’s breathing and heartbeat sounded like rocks rumbling through a cave, and Aron felt grateful to leave them behind as he let his awareness drift upward, out of Endurance House, and into the white-blue light of day.

The sudden increase in stimulation momentarily stunned him, but he breathed through it, using skills taught to him by Dari, and rehearsed twice a day, almost every day since he first met her. The Shrine of the Mother lay below him, just ahead—

Nothing but monoliths and grass, an absolutely peaceful scene, rendered as perfectly as a painting.

Stormbreaker and Dari had been right all along, hadn’t they? There was nothing in the Shrine. Nothing he should fear, and nothing attempting to harm him.

That meant his dreams were likely phantoms of his own mind as well.

Aron didn’t know if he felt relief or shame for his childish worries, or perhaps a little of both. He stretched his mental muscles, letting himself drift higher.

Stormbreaker, Lady Vagrat, and Vagrat’s heir were no longer in the cornfield, and in fact, Aron sensed Lady Vagrat’s shimmering silver energy in the main keep. She was probably meeting with Lord Baldric, and likely Stormbreaker and Falconer as well. He knew better than to eavesdrop, though a small part of him was tempted. Likewise, he didn’t allow his essence to shift toward Dari’s quarters, and intrude upon her privacy.

He moved higher, letting his perspective expand, like a bird flying into the clouds. A slight flicker of movement caught his attention to the east, something happening on this side of the Veil, and that intrigued him.

He had no idea how to call to the Goddess in his dreams, if she even existed, which he now doubted very deeply, so it seemed the best idea to simply investigate what presented itself to him.

No fear or dread dissuaded him as he moved himself outward, toward the increasing motion and light he could see rising above what was likely the nearer reaches of Dyn Cobb.

At least, not until he got closer and got a better look at a familiar red glow, like flames in a ruby. Red blazes flared across the horizon, blinding in intensity as they rose, then exploded and fell into fading sparks.

Tension rose within the essence of Aron’s body. He was aware of his heart rate increasing, and his breathing growing more rapid.

Nic.

The boy Aron had made contact with, the boy who was being sheltered by Tiamat Snakekiller, Stormbreaker’s sister.

Aron moved faster, hurling his awareness toward the display. He wondered if Blath felt this way when she lowered her head and flew, really flew, with air rushing hard against her face and shoulders. It was perception, he knew. Nothing but how he imagined flying so fast might feel—yet it seemed more real than the reality of the dark room in Endurance House, where his body waited for this spiritual part of him to return.

The ruby-crimson lights intensified, and Aron willed himself to reach the spot now, right now, exactly now.

He pitched and tumbled ahead, the essence of his stomach lurching with the speed of his forward movement, then the force of his halt above the spot above the fountain-shots of color. When he forced his eyes open, the first thing he saw was a great horned stag, dark and spectral, standing with the majesty of a mountain and the fierce solemnity of a storm about to rain its fury on the lands below.

Beside the creature stood a man larger and more perfect