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Rychel nodded. “He could...”
“Let me guess... With your brother’s permission?” I swore under my breath.
“Why do you want to leave so badly?” Rychel asked softly.
“Oh, you know, just the ordinary reason–my country is at war, my brother is burning down our former allies’ villages and slaughtering their people, and I need to get back so I can try to stop him. Nothing really urgent.” I felt my jaw clenching hard.
Rychel looked sympathetic. “I see. Well, if you told my brother...”
“I have told your brother,” I exclaimed. “He wouldn’t believe me. He wouldn’t believe what I saw was real. He said...”
“What did he say?”
“He said it was just a dream.” I frowned. “But it wasn’t just a dream. He doesn’t understand. My dreams have changed.”
Now Rychel looked intently interested. “How do you mean?”
“They’ve become more vivid. More real. I still have dreams, but these... I wouldn’t even call them dreams. They’re more like... visions. Visions that show real things.” I looked at Rychel. “I probably sound deranged.”
But Rychel was frowning in a way that told me she was thinking hard about what I’d said.
“The gift of true dreaming is rare. I’ve only known one other person who dreamed in the way you’re describing.” She turned to the table behind her and started shuffling through some parchment. “In any case, it’s been wonderful to meet you, Morgan. I hope we can talk again soon. You’ve given me a lot to think about. I can see why my brother is so taken with you.”
“Taken with me? I think you mean taken me, full stop,” I muttered.
It was obvious I’d been dismissed. Rychel must have had more work to do. Maybe she planned to stay up all night dissecting that horrible body.
With a sigh, I went over to where Beks laying snoring and gently gave him a little kick on the ankle. His eyes popped open.
“Oh, hello there,” I said. “What exactly will Javer do to you if you’re not back in your bed by morning?”
His eyes widened. Then he sat up and started to push himself up off the floor. “Point...” He yawned. “Taken.”
“Good. Let’s go.”
It wasn’t that I was afraid to go into the passages alone–not that I knew how to lit those lamps yet–but it would definitely be easier with Beks to lead the way.
But lead the way where? Back to our–no, notour, I had to stop thinking that way. Back toDraven’ssuite? I didn’t want to go back there. I didn’t want to look at that handsome, lying face. I certainly was not about to sleep next to him in that bed.
But I had a feeling if I showed up at Crescent’s home and demanded to be stitched to the surface, he would flatly but very, very kindly refuse. And then summon Draven to take me home. I wasn’t sure I could handle any more pointless drama tonight.
And besides the suite, I didn’t exactly have anywhere else to go.
Did I?
“We’re taking a detour,” I told Beks as we stepped back into the passageway.
