The Fae King's Dream (Between Dawn and Dusk #2) - Jamie Schlosser Page 0,133
somewhere, but we’ve already blown tradition to bits by missing our own wedding.
“I went to the Day Realm, like you said,” Luna reports. “Everyone was asleep. I figured the farthest place in Valora is the Dream Realm, so I decided to fly there. Again, everyone asleep. It seems you knocked out the entire world.”
All right, so maybe calling it The Great Sleep isn’t so inaccurate. And this gives me a big clue about Merina—she’s probably not in Valora, just as I suspected.
“Thank you, Luna. This information is helpful.”
“I have more.”
“Okay.” I wait.
She’s silent. Continuing on the beaten path leading to the waterfall, I give her a look.
She returns with a twist of her lips. “Our deal has been fulfilled. If you want to know something else, it will cost you.”
“Whatever you want,” I respond, frustrated. “Twenty diamonds?”
Squealing, she claps her hands. “You’re generous when you’re grouchy.”
“Luna.”
“Yes, yes. So, after I left the Dream Realm, I went back to the Day Realm. I figured I’d stay there until people started waking up. And you know what I discovered this morning? I’ll give you three guesses.”
“I’m not in the mood for games.”
“No fun.” She pouts. “Drumroll, please… There are no new cases of the plague!”
Almost stumbling, I come to an abrupt halt. “What?”
I hadn’t realized Zander was on my tail, but he almost bumps into me from behind.
“No new cases?” he asks, sounding elated. It’s the most enthusiastic I’ve ever heard him.
Luna shrugs. “Don’t get too excited. It seems the people who were sick before The Great Sleep continue to be unwell. A few woke up feeling better. Others didn’t wake up at all, because they’d died. But one thing I found when I flew from town to town was that it wasn’t spreading.”
“How?” Zander invades Luna’s personal space, and for once the cheeky thing is intimidated, taking cover in Whitley’s red locks.
“I might have the answer to that,” Astrid calls, breathless from trying to catch up to our group while hauling her rolled-up rug. Thayne grabs one end of it to assist, but she slaps his hand away, almost dropping the heavy thing in the process. “Witches only.”
“How about a witch in training?” Whitley leaves my side—Luna still tangled up in her hair—and Astrid allows her to help carry it, sending her a grateful smile before looking my way.
“Many of the coven’s curses were tied to the group as a whole. Imagine a ring, where the power travels in an infinite circle. Take away some of the sections and the power stops.”
“All their curses are broken?” I ask, too afraid to believe it.
“I’m still blind,” Zander states. “So, obviously not.”
“Merina might’ve been the anchor for your curse,” Astrid explains, tugging Whitley along as she marches on. “Sometimes the bigger curses need a foundation. When the foundation is gone, the curse goes with them.”
“My mother.” I voice my immediate concern. “Will she be cured?”
“It’s likely she won’t be contagious, but I’m afraid those who were already infected aren’t in the clear.” She lifts her rug. “I brought this on our journey to save you, my king. But since you don’t need it, I’ll put it to good use.”
“Good use?” Whitley repeats, and my eyes volley back and forth between the pair.
I’m always out of the loop with these two.
Astrid grins at Whitley. “This, my dear, is what you call a backup plan.”
Damon
“When you died in the hospital,” I hear Astrid say to Whitley as she adds more hair to her rug, “it wasn’t the doctors who restarted your heart. It was me and this.” She pats the braided ropes. “I had to use one of my precious creations.”
I remember the smell of burnt hair outside Astrid’s room after I’d been kicked out of Whitley’s dream. With the ruckus on the other side of the door, I’d thought Astrid was in danger. In reality, she was saving my mate. I never questioned how she did it—I was too relieved and happy to care.
Now it makes sense, finding her with the rug in the pit trap two nights ago. She’d been on her way to try to save me.
“All these years, I thought you just had a weird sense of style when it came to interior design,” I quip while filling a brown jug with waterfall mist.
I’ve been tasked with collecting the mystical water, even though we have enough to supply us for weeks.
Mighty king, sent on a fool’s errand to keep me from going apeshit.