was dangerous. Dreamscapes were fickle and confusing places. One wrong turn down a dark memory or a mind that was too clouded, and the caster might end up trapped in the other person’s mind.
Forever.
The decision, though, was easy. If there was a chance we could get into contact with Cress, an opportunity to save her, then there was no real question as to if we would do it or not. I lifted my gaze and met each one of my brothers’ before centering my attention on Groffet. “I’ll do it,” I announced. “And you’re going to teach me, old man.”
Chapter Six
Cress
The feeling of arms holding me awoke my senses. Fast. Running. Trees blurred past. The arms that held me, however, were warm and I felt … safe.
Why did I feel safe? I wondered. Who was holding me? Was it one of the guys? No. It didn’t feel like one of them. The arms encircling my frame were much more slender than any of them. They felt almost feminine. And whoever it was that held me, did so against a soft chest. I tried to open my eyes but found that when I did everything appeared in dark and light tones of blacks, whites, and grays. Like the whole world had been leached of color.
“How much farther?” a soft, female voice asked, her tone shaky and … scared? It was hard to hear. The scent of something pungent and something sweet permeated the air around me and there was a sudden rush of air as if a small wind tunnel had opened up and sucked me and the woman holding me through it.
“Not much farther,” a male voice answered. He was close by, the sound of his voice soothing, but there was no disguising that he, too, was uncertain of something. His tone, although strong, was tight—as if pulled taut from some sort of strong emotion.
“Henri,” the woman called. “Henri!”
“Keep going, Marcella. We have to. They’re tracking us.”
“We can’t keep running,” the woman said, her fear much stronger now as she slowed to a walk and then stopped altogether. “Not with her.”
Who was ‘her?’ I wanted to ask. The woman above me sniffled and something wet hit my forehead and slid down the side of my face. Why was she crying? For some reason, I didn’t like hearing this woman’s pain. It made something in my chest tighten. I wanted to tell her everything would be okay even if I didn’t know exactly what was going on.
“Marci.” The man’s voice grew closer and then the warmth I felt being cuddled into the woman’s breast was increased as he wrapped his arms around both her and me. “It’s going to be okay, but we have to keep moving.”
The woman continued to cry and other than a few breathy gasps, she kept her pain and sorrow and fear to a quiet murmur. When she finally regained the ability to speak, she pushed back against the man with one arm. My eyes flickered between the two of them. I could make out their heads, bent over mine, but not their features. It was as if someone had blurred out what they looked like and left only the vaguest of outlines for me to draw information from. What I could tell, though, was that they were both looking down at me.
“We have to leave her behind,” the woman said.
Silence. Then, “Are you sure?” The man sounded strained as if it cost him to even say the words, to even consider the woman’s claim.
The woman shook her head. “No. I’m not sure of anything anymore,” she whispered in the darkness of the forest. “I thought we could trust the Courts. I thought our friends would survive. I’ve thought so many things, Henri. I don’t trust my instincts anymore. But I think … this time, maybe … her best chance is away from us. With the humans.”
That’s when it hit me. Who these people really were. What this was. It wasn’t a dream. It was a memory. Why had I recalled this now? What was the point of this memory surfacing after so long? I couldn’t make sense of the reason, but the truth of it could be felt in the fires of my veins. I knew these two people. These were my parents. My real parents. It all became too much for me. I opened my mouth—to say what, I didn't know—but before I could say anything, a horrifying squalling noise erupted from my throat.