He shoved against the door with his full weight, grabbing the girl’s arms to keep her from falling to the floor as the door jerked from her hands and pushed her back. The blanket she’d held in front of her fell, exposing her sham.
She wore both her shift and her overdress. They’d merely been lowered to expose her arms so that it might appear as if she wore nothing.
Patrick handed her off to Eric and strode to the bed, where he grabbed a handful of the covers and swept them to the floor.
A roll of furs occupied the spot that should have held his brother.
“By Freya,” he hissed through gritted teeth. His brother had played him the fool. “How long has he been gone?”
The girl had stuffed her arms back into her clothing. “He paid me three silvers to keep everyone away.”
Patrick’s patience wore thin.
“How long . . .” A pause to keep from raising his voice. “. . . has he been gone?”
She dug her fingers into her pouch, pulling out the coins to display on the flat of her palm. “Three silvers, you see? I was only doing what I was paid to do. He said—”
“How long?” Patrick yelled at her, all semblance of patience completely disappeared.
The girl scrambled backward toward the fire, covering her face and head with her arms as if she feared a beating. Only Eric’s intervention saved her from stumbling into the flames.
“How long?” Patrick asked again, holding tight rein on himself this time.
“Five days.” Her voice quivered and tears ran down her cheeks. “He left the night before those he had wanted to accompany.”
The night before.
He should have known.
“Ready the fastest horse we have.”
He gave the order without waiting to see if Eric obeyed. He had no need to see, only a need to gather his things as quickly as possible. Time was of the essence now. He might already be too late.
He should have known.
He should have seen it, should have recognized it for what it was. He’d sensed something from the first but he’d charged it off to the groomsman, Rauf.
Fool.
He should have known.
And because he hadn’t, he could well have the lives of six innocents hanging over his soul for all eternity.
Thirty
THE MIST OFsparkling lights gave it away.
Dani felt as if she floated, but surely that was only because it was too dark to see where her feet touched the ground. She’d begun to think she’d wandered off from the others and lost herself in an inky black forest, but then she’d seen the mist up ahead and she’d known.
She’d entered a dream.
Not a regular dream. Not like being naked on test day or thrown into a restaurant with customers screaming for orders she couldn’t find. No, this was entirely different.
She was aware that this was a dream. And more than that, she knew she’d come here with a purpose.
Up close the sparkling mist was more like a river made of millions of infinitesimally tiny creatures, writhing and splashing in unison against its banks, tossing up a multicolored living spray into the black void around her.
It beckoned her and she took several steps toward the flow until she remembered she’d come here for a purpose.
