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Her eyes fluttered closed as the last couple days slid off her skin. She just wished she could calm her mind as much as the water calmed her body.
It didn’t help that she was anxiously awaiting to hear from Ellerby. She’d written him a letter and had it mailed to his home in Elsiande. She had no idea when to hope to hear from him… if she even would. Considering the state of his home, she thought it was unlikely. But now, she was worried about him.
The whole thing frustrated and confused her. To make matters worse, it put her no closer to finding a tribe to take her in time. She was going to have to put something together, figure out a way to pull some strings.
If only she could sleep…
Her breathing evened out. Her fingers slipped into the water. The lull of the underground baths pulling her deeper into slumber. It had been days since she’d slept more than a handful of hours. She couldn’t resist the pull.
A dream took root almost immediately. A dream unlike any other. This was crystal clear. The images stark and blinding, as if imprinted on her eyelids.
First, a gold medallion broken into three unequal parts. Once the pieces of the puzzle slid together, a symbol appeared—a raven. The same raven that had been on the dagger. The raven took flight, and abruptly, she was now looking down on the arena, but it was flooded. A series of platforms were held together by ropes, ladders, and an unsteady framework. The entire thing hovered in the air over the water, and as she watched, the structure moved. She found Fordham in the arena. He stood on a rounded bit of scaffolding as he reached out for something in front of him. A figure appeared behind him, but she couldn’t tell who, and with a sharp push, Fordham fell. She knew instinctively that he couldn’t fall, that he would lose everything. She reached for him, but already, the dream shifted.
This time, it was a blur of images flashing hastily before her eyes, as if there was so much, too much, to show in one snap. A warehouse, a length of rope, a dragon flight, a blue drink in a gold goblet, the back of a girl’s head with hair the color of ash, the Dragon Ring, Dozan standing over her, a figure in black, and a red mask.
“Kerrigan! Kerrigan!” a voice cried, jolting her awake.
She snapped out of her vision, jerking out of the water and coughing spastically to clear her lungs. She’d fallen all the way under. Any longer, and she might have drowned. She sucked in deep breaths as she tried to make sense of what in the gods’ name was happening to her.
“Oh my gods, are you okay?”
Kerrigan cleared her green eyes enough to see who had found her and kept her from drowning. “Audria,” she said in surprise.
“Are you all right?” She fiddled with a loose lock of her blonde hair.
“I’m… I’m fine. Thank you,” Kerrigan said, suddenly tongue-tied.
Audria was beautiful and royal and… a friend from home. A friend she could never be again because Kerrigan didn’t want anyone to know where she had come from.
“What are you doing down here?”
“I could say the same to you.”
“True,” Kerrigan conceded, running a shaky hand back through her red hair.
“But… I came to find you. I wanted to talk.”
“About what?” Kerrigan asked, retreating in the water but Audria stepped forward.
“I saw you were training with Fordham.”
“Yeah,” she said warily.
“How’s that going?”
“It’s… grueling. I think he takes pleasure in me being in pain.”
“That sounds like the House of Shadows.”
Considering what Kerrigan knew about the House of Shadows from Fordham, she would be even more inclined to agree. They weren’t just brutal to those they thought were beneath them; they were like that to their own too. Brutality was built into their being from a young age. No one could come away from that unscathed.
Audria continued when Kerrigan didn’t reply, “What’s he like?”
“What do you mean?” Kerrigan crossed her arms over her chest. The last thing she wanted was a line of interrogation from Audria.
“You’re the only person he talks to,” Audria said with a small shrug of her shoulders. “I’ve tried to get to know him, but he has no interest in talking.”
“I don’t know,” Kerrigan said softly. “He’s exactly what you’d expect.”
It was a lie. Fordham wasn’t what she had expected at all. Yes, he brutal, strong, arrogant, but there was something else underneath it all. She didn’t know what exactly. She was just now discovering it. But he didn’t have to train her for this fight and he was anyway. That said something about his character. Maybe he wanted everyone to think he was a brute. Maybe it was easier.
“If he was exactly what I expected, then he wouldn’t be training you,” she said gently. “I don’t mean that how it sounded… I’m not…” She cringed again. “I’m not prejudiced. I am completely pro-rights for all marginalized people. I just think that he wouldn’t be.”
