“La’tiera, wake up! It’s just a dream!”
Her eyes snapped open, the taste of warm blood in her mouth, the euphoria of the kill resonating in her body as her mind screamed with terror. Something held her arms, and she tried to push away, sure that this time she would be the victim instead of some poor person in a vision of the future.
“La’tiera, it’s all right! The vision is over. It’s only me, Dal.”
She continued to be held fast, but the sharpness of her panic dulled. She felt his arms for what they were rather than as demon tentacles squeezing the life out of her.
“Dal?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
She stopped struggling and went limp. He brought her close, enclosing her in his arms. The warmth coming from him felt good, and reassuring. Her own arms went around him and she clung to him, not sure if she dared to believe he was real. A sob wracked her before she could stop it. It was followed by another and another.
Dal rocked her, whispering over and over that everything was all right. Somehow, his support, his being there for her, made it harder for her to maintain control. It was as if all the weight of the last few days came crashing down around her shoulders.
Eventually, she quieted down and was able to push away from him, wiping her face on her sleeve.
“Here, use this.” Dal handed her his stained handkerchief, his expression hidden by the darkness.
She turned from him, wiping her face and blowing her nose. Her heart slammed against her chest as she distinctly felt his attentive closeness behind her. What was wrong with her? She was stronger than this.
“I–I’m sorry.”
He ignored her apology. “Was it very bad?”
She nodded, though she doubted he could see her, not trusting herself to speak. Her left hand touched her chest, where the birthmark Eye resided. The bump she had noticed back in the wagon felt more pronounced. Could that be the reason the dream seemed so much more real than ever before?
La’tiera shuddered. The Herald was already in the sky, her birthday had already passed. She had days, perhaps a week before the gate would open. How much worse would these visions get? Instead of feeling everything the demons felt, would she become one? She shook her head at the obviously irrational thought but still couldn’t keep a moan of fear from escaping her lips.
A jolt shot through her as a warm hand settled on her shoulder.
“They’re only testing you. Hoping to break you. Don’t let them. None of it was real. None of it has to come to pass.”
She nodded again, knowing he was right. It was just that, out here, in the cold and dark, she found the truth much harder to believe in.
“Would it help if I told you a story? Tell me what kind you’d like to hear, and I’ll tell it to you,” he said gently. “I’ve done the same for Aya when she’s had a bad dream or two.”
At the mention of the child’s name, La’tiera easily envisioned her young smiling face. She hoped her little friend was safe.
“Does Aya have a favorite?”
Dal’s soft laugh reached over from behind her. “Oh, yes. The nymph and the mountain.”
“That’s the one I would like to hear. If you’re truly willing.”
“I am.”
She heard him shift behind her, so she slowly turned around to face him and tried to get as comfortable as she could.
“Many, many seasons ago, a happy nymph lived in a green glade at the edge of an immense forest, where it met the towering heights of a mountain. Like all nymphs, Noriel was a very energetic and curious creature.”
La’tiera smiled despite herself, seeing already why Aya liked the tale. As Dal talked on, she closed her eyes, trying to picture what he spoke of, her hands itching to draw. With each passing word, she felt herself relaxing, her previous tension easing, the story and the way he told it a kind of magic, drawing her in.
A drawn-out howl suddenly shattered the silence, destroying the story’s enchantment and bringing Dal’s voice to a stop. Goosebumps rose on her arms and neck—she had never heard the like before.
“What was that?”
Before he could answer, another howl tore the air, followed by barking. It was closer than before.
“Hunter dogs!”
She heard him scramble to his feet as they waited for the sound to come again.
“Are they bad?”
“Only if we’re the ones being hunted by them.”
More howls and barks came from within the trees. La’tiera searched around to find her shoes and put them on.
“And are we?” she asked.
“Someone in the village must have mentioned we were missing. And if the dogs were able to pick up our trail there…” He turned toward her. “We have to get moving. We need to find a stream, a village, anything we can use to make it hard for them to pick up our scent.”
“But we—”
“We have no choice!” He abruptly loomed over her and grabbed her arm.
Her previous fear, not totally forgotten, flamed again, fed by his own.
Stumbling through the dark, he held on to her hand so they wouldn’t be separated. The howls and barking sounded now and again, pushing them forward, and were definitely coming their way.
It was as if she were one of the victims of her visions. Demons were after them, wanting to tear them limb from limb. The dark hid everything from them as roots tried to trip them and branches caught at their clothes and hair.
Her mind turned numb as they struggled on, only fear and their need to escape keeping her going.
The sparse trees and tall grass and weeds gave out, dumping them on a wide road as the sky slightly lightened on the horizon. La’tiera slipped on the small slope and fell down, her strength totally spent. The sounds of the hunter dogs still came from behind them.
Dal turned around and tried to get her to her feet, but her body wasn’t cooperating.
“La’tiera, we can’t stop here. We have to keep moving.”
“I don’t think I can.” Her legs shook, refusing to support her. “I’m not used to this.”
Blue eyes stared into her tired face and then up and down the still-dark road.
“Allright. But we can’t rest here, we’re too exposed.”
Dropping her head in a nod, weary beyond bearing, she tried again to get up. Dal caught her before her legs gave out and half-lifted her so they could start moving.
“Hold on a little longer. Only to the trees over there.”
La’tiera groaned, the distance to the copse farther than her body wanted to go.
Hobbling together, they started across the road, the barking closer than ever before.
“I see them!”
They turned their heads at the same time to glance behind them and spotted a broad-shouldered man wearing a helmet pointing at them. Cursing, Dal forced her to go faster. They made it to the road’s other side before La’tiera’s legs gave out and took them both down.
Dal turned to face her, his quick breaths falling on her cheek.
“Listen to me. I’m going to hold them off as best I can, but you need to get moving. You can’t allow yourself to get caught by these people. The world is at stake.”
He helped her back on her feet, his worried gaze shifting between her and the five men and half-dozen dogs now exposed on the road. He bent and retrieved a dagger La’tiera hadn’t seen before from his boot.
“La’tiera, please, you have to go now! The Gods will protect you.”
Go? How? She could barely stand, let alone run. As she took a look at the men, she realized they wore her uncle’s livery, but they weren’t the same ones she’d seen at the village. Surely, these would listen to her before committing violence.
But Dal wouldn’t let them have her, at least not without getting hurt or killed.
“I’ll go.”
He turned away from her, relief on his face, focusing his attention on the three men who cautiously headed toward them, their hands on their sheathed swords. She stared at his back, not moving. She had a duty to perform, a reason she existed. And while Dal hadn’t forgotten that, he did forget they didn’t agree on exactly how her duty was to be carried out.
Suddenly very calm, her mind incredibly clear, La’tiera remembered the story of the Grey Knight and the Maidens of Whir. Knowing what she must do and how to do it, she stooped and grabbed a rock sitting exposed on the ground. Swaying only a little as she stood back up, she raised her arm. She had her duty, and if Dal resisted he would be stabbed or torn apart by the dogs. But there was a way to keep him alive and by which she could be rescued as well. He shouldn’t have ever forgotten he had kidnapped her from her home. He shouldn’t have forgotten she was his prisoner, not his friend.
She brought the rock down hard on the back of his head.