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As I come closer, I see a few swamp flowers that have multicolored legu sitting on them—frog-like amphibians that squeak instead of croak.
It’s a whole pucking ecosystem, and a nice one at that. The scent of the flowers, their colors, the sounds of the water splashing, and the little squeaks all seem to be carefully calculated to pleasantly stimulate the senses.
“This is not an illusion,” Valerian says before I can ask. “There’s also ri living in the water.”
Sure enough, I spot the little fish-like creatures. They look like rubies with fins and tails.
Valerian takes off his shoes, sits on the edge of the pond, and dips his naked feet into the water with a contented sigh. Catching my gaze, he grins and pats the spot next to him.
I gingerly crouch there.
“You can put your feet in.” He curls and uncurls his toes, clearly relishing the feel of the water. “It’s nice.”
I grimace. “No, thanks. I could live my whole life without soaking my feet in the same place those legu and ri go to the bathroom.”
“Your loss.” His expression turns serious. “Are you ready to go into Erato’s dream?”
I get more comfortable by twisting my legs into a lotus pose I learned in a yoga class on Earth. “Sure. What am I looking for when I’m in there?”
“Right.” His gaze is intent on my face. “I have to tell you what the Senate asked me to do.”
Finally. “Go ahead.”
“How much do you know about Icelus?” His voice tightens on the last word.
Icelus? Is he talking about the secret society cult from Leal’s notes? The one Kit dismissed as the dreamwalker being delusional? “Well,” I say slowly, “allegedly, they did some bad things on Earth and—”
“What the puck do you mean by ‘allegedly?’”
I scoot back, startled by his vehement reaction. “I don’t know. During my investigation for the Council, I got Leal’s journal—you know, the dead dreamwalker?—and he’d made claims about Icelus that sound like conspiracy theories. Nobody on the Council took him seriously, so…”
Valerian’s forearm muscles flex, like he’s fighting not to clench his fists. “Whatever heinous crimes Leal accused them of, Icelus are guilty of far worse.”
I give him an incredulous stare. “Worse than wars and terrorist acts?”
He nods grimly. “Their goal is to maximize the number and frequency of nightmares everywhere to serve their deity.”
Huh, okay. Maybe Leal wasn’t all that delusional. “That deity being Phobetor, the god of nightmares?”
“Do not utter that name,” Valerian snaps. “Just like the nightmares, it gives him power.”
Wait, what? Is Phobetor like Voldemort, He Who Must Not Be Named? Actually, I don’t think Harry Potter’s nemesis got more power when his name was said out loud. Either way, why does Valerian sound like he believes the same mumbo-jumbo as Icelus?
There’s no way there’s such a thing as Phobetor.
“I won’t do it again,” I say reassuringly, just in case. “How about I call him something safe, like Collywobbles? In English, that means stomach pain or queasiness.”
“I know English well,” Valerian says, his gaze softening slightly. “I’ve been on Earth more than you.”
“Oh?”
“I immigrated there a while back.”
I scooch back toward him, driven by curiosity. “What about your parents? Did they also immigrate?”
“No.” His features darken. “Icelus took them from me before that.”
The torment in his eyes makes my chest ache, and on my wrist, Pom turns darker than a black hole. Unbidden, my hand reaches out and rests reassuringly on Valerian’s stiff shoulder.
“I’m so sorry,” I murmur.
His shoulder minutely relaxes. “It was a long time ago.” Eyes glinting, he adds, “The killer paid dearly for what he did.”
No doubt. I don’t even want to imagine what kind of horrific things Valerian can do with his powers to someone he hates.
He places his palm over mine, his gaze growing heavy-lidded.
Wow. His touch is like the heat of an exploding quasar. It spreads through my body and settles somewhere low in my core.
I snatch my hand away before I do something crazy, like lean over and plant a kiss on those sensuous lips. “Back to the Senate job.”
“Right.” His features grow taut again. “Since the government here knows of their existence, Icelus have been very careful when it comes to their operations on Gomorrah—until recently, that is. The Senate have reason to believe that Icelus are plotting something here, and they’ve asked many people, me included, to look into it.”
“And that dryad—”
“Is the reason the Senate needed me for that part of the investigation. Because of some of the horrific genetically modified plants she recently patented, they think she’s an agent or at least a lead to one, but they don’t want to spook her. They want me to use my powers to extract the information from her without her realizing they’re on to her, but I think your powers will work even better.”
I massage the bridge of my nose. “You don’t think our little visit spooked her?”
