Page 128 of Whisper of Nightmares

He trails off, but Euphemia finishes for him. “You’d have more time to help him.”

Dagfinn’s eyes are wet as he nods.

“Then when he died—” he swallows thickly. “I started having strange dreams that didn’t feel like any I’d ever had before. They echoed all the myths from my childhood about the realm of death. I found myself in Rán’s watery domain, amongst Níðhöggr’s vipers, blinded in Garmr’s caves. Everywhere I went, I was surrounded by death. And yet, I had not seen my father. Every time I got close to him, every time I thought he was finally near him, I would awaken. The dream would be over, and my father would be gone still.”

Already, she’s beginning to understand the madness.

After all, she would’ve done the same.

Dagfinn looks back at the bedside table. He retrieves the vial. Stares at the emptiness within. “I thought if I altered my draught of wakefulness, if I made it induce a deep slumber nearing death that maybe I might be able to find him. That maybe I could cross into the realm of Helheim and bring him back with me.”

The pinch in Euphemia’s heart becomes a crushing ache.

She brings a hand to her mouth. “Oh, Dagfinn. You didn’t?”

He flashes her a sheepish grin. “It turns out, you’re not the only one with a death wish.”

But she can’t bring herself to slip into amusement when panic clenches her so tightly.

“Is there a way to undo it?”

Dagfinn’s gaze drops to the empty vial in his hand.

For a moment, he says nothing. Euphemia can almost feel him weighing the answer.

Finally, he nods. “I think there might be.”

Euphemia’s heart stutters with relief.

But trepidation and her own grief stills it.

If she had found her father after all this time, if she knew where his spirit was and how to return to him as often as she wanted, would she give that up so freely?

“You…do want to leave this place?” Her voice quivers on the words.

Dagfinn’s gaze lifts to hers. There is grief in it. There probably always will be.

But for the first time since she met him, there is something else too.

Something lighter.

Something like hope.

“My father told me I was the one who needed saving.” His fingers tighten around the empty vial. “I think it’s time I listened.”

Euphemia’s throat tightens. “Then, how do we get you home?”

A faint smile touches his lips. “That will require the use of my study, and someone with an eye for mixing ingredients.”

His last words are spoken directly at her.

Euphemia’s heart flutters with pride. “Tell me what I must do.”

Chapter 25

Dream Ward

Euphemia awakens with Dagfinn’s instructions clear in her mind: make the wakefulness draught using the notes in his journal.