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“What happened?” Wey said, striding across the tent to grip a panting Nica’s shoulder.
“It was me,” Theon rasped, sounding miserable. “I had another dream, and when I woke up, the bed was on fire.”
Weylyn’s jaw clenched as he moved toward Theon and Braz. Braz swallowed hard but released Theon when he stepped toward Wey. Theon buried his face against Wey’s chest, and for a moment, the whole world was still save the tremble in Theon’s shoulders. Wey’s eyes found mine before looking over at Nica.
Raised voices outside the tent drew all our attention a moment before Seph poked his head through the tent opening. “There’s a couple of guards moving this way. We should head them off.”
Wey nodded and looked down at the boy in his arms. “Precious, I want you to go with Florin to Seph’s tent. Go sit with Cedric. Nica, Braz, and I will talk to the others.”
Theon nodded, but he didn’t move. His eyes were glued to the singed fabric peeking out from under the blanket Nica had used to put out the flames. The voices outside grew louder. Putting myself in front of Theon, I intercepted his gaze and took his hands in mine. A shiver of fear worked through me at the dull stare looking back at me.
“Theon, come with me.”
He put up no protest when I pulled him away from Weylyn. He only dropped his chin and stuck close. I wanted to tell myself it was trust that allowed him to follow me so easily and without question, but the uneasy pit gathering in my stomach knew better.
Going to a short slit I’d made in the bottom of the tent hidden by my bed and held together with a single whipstitch, I dropped to my knees, cutting the stitch with my knife and crawling through. Theon followed me, and as soon as we were both out, I led him down the narrow gap between our tent and Cedric’s to where Cedric had cut a similar slit.
“Come on,” Cedric said, peeking out at us.
I pushed Theon in front of me, then scurried after him. As soon as we were through, Cedric lashed the slit back together and pulled his and Seph’s bed back in front of it. A guard’s voice raised from outside the tent, and as one, all three of us went still, listening. Weylyn answered, words too low for us to hear. When no commotion broke out, some of the tension drained out of my shoulders.
“Come, Theon. Florin,” Cedric said, leading us over to a low table with a pitcher and cups on it. The tent was dim with only a single candle burning. They’d obviously been in bed or getting ready for it. Cedric moved about the tent, lighting a few more candles, and motioned at the sitting cushions around the table. “Sit.” With half a dozen candles flickering, Cedric joined us and poured water from the pitcher into the two cups on the table, setting them in front of Theon and me.
I frowned at my cup. “You don’t want any?”
Cedric blushed. “We only have the two cups. You drink. It’s fine.”
“Nonsense.” I pushed the cup he’d offered me in front of him. “Theon and I can share.” Glancing at Theon, I found his eyes downcast and that hunch still shaping his shoulders. I took a small sip of water, then offered the cup to Theon. “Theon, love, have a drink.”
Without looking up, Theon took the cup from my hand, swallowed a mouthful of water, and set the cup back on the table. Cedric caught my eye, a small frown on his face. He was worried about Theon, too.
Clearing my throat, I tried to smile. “Thank you, Cedric, for hosting us.”
At that, Theon did look up. “Yes, thank you, Cedric.”
“Anytime,” Cedric said, offering a small smile. Leaning in, he lowered his voice. “What happened?”
I thought Theon would shut down further, but he only sighed and said, “I had a dream and lost control.”
Slipping my arm around his shoulders, I pulled him closer. Relief washed over me when he leaned against my side. “What did you dream of?”
Theon looked up, glancing from me to Cedric and back again. “My mother.”
I stilled. Dreams of my mother—or the house where my mother had been kept—had been plaguing me for weeks. I could barely remember her face, only the walls of that house, but I still heard her voice in my sleep. It seemed Theon and I had another thing in common. “What about her, sweet boy?”
He gave a little shrug. “Just…little things. The way she’d tuck me in at night. How she always made me smile after a visit from my father.” He huddled a little closer to me. “The last time I saw her.”
“What happened to her?” Cedric asked, voice gentle.
“She fell ill. She was sick for a long time before her death.”
“I’m sorry, sweet boy.”
“I’m sorry, Theon,” Cedric said, reaching across the table and gripping Theon’s hand.
Lifting his head, Theon gave Cedric a small smile. “Thank you. It’s been so long, I don’t know why the dream upset me so much.”
Rubbing my hand up and down his arm, I pressed a kiss to his temple. “Sometimes old hurts come back when we least expect them.” Resting my forehead against his temple, I told him something my mother used to always tell me. “All will be well,per cor. All will be well.” Because he was my heart, I would do anything in my power to make it so.
