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With a silent apology to the animals, I pick up a sharp stone from the ground and flick it into one of the dog’s haunches, right by his fellow beast’s muzzle.
The first hound lunges around, sure he’s been nipped. The second barks at the sudden hostility. In a matter of seconds, they’re chasing each other and the third hound in their midst out of the tent, snapping and baying at each other.
The nearby crowd scatters. Torstem himself has to stumble to the side to avoid being bowled over.
The royal guards draw even closer around their charges. I catch one’s comment to the king: “I believe we should move on from this commotion, Your Highness.”
King Konram must decide he’s had enough commotion in general, because the procession weaves its way back toward the palace, only stopping for a moment here and there for the royal family to give their greetings.
I lean back against the nearest building with a sigh of relief. Ster. Torstem can’t follow them right into the palace.
But I don’t even know what disaster I might have averted.
Twenty-Four
Ivy
My head spins in the darkness. Then hands grip the edges of the sack by my shoulders.
I already know what’s coming, with a lurch of dread in my gut. I’ve been here too many times before.
The sack wrenches away from my head. I find myself staring into Stavros’s searing gaze, his mouth curved into a vicious sneer.
He reaches for the hangman’s noose—
And I manage to jerk myself out of the dream before I have to face the horror of the rope tightening around my neck.
I exhale raggedly into the dimness of the room I’ve woken up to. A faint stinging lingers at my throat—how much from the nightmare and how much from the memory of a very real rope that pressed against it a few days ago, I’m not sure.
Ever since Stavros’s test in the equipment building, that unnerving dream has come for me every night. No matter what he says or how much he apologizes, my mind doesn’t totally believe him.
As I sit up on the sofa, trying to shake off the awful images, a hazy but urgent muttering filters through the bedroom door. It’s followed by a harsh rustle of sheets.
It sounds like neither of you is sleeping well,Julita remarks.
I let out a rough laugh under my breath. “We make quite a pair, don’t we? Giving each other nightmares while we’re sharing the same quarters.”
I’ll bet Stavros never bargained on this development when he insisted I stay in his rooms.
A grunt reaches my ears, muffled but clearly uneasy. My fingers curl around the edge of my blanket.
My ghostly companion must be able to tell what I’m considering from the tensing of my body.I wouldn’t disturb him. He’s survived worse than a bad dream or two. After the way he reacted last time… But I suppose I don’t really know what to make of his behavior anymore.
I grimace. “He obviously doesn’t know what to make of me. I never meant for anyone to find out.”
Of course you didn’t. But better you did than let Wendos finish his wretched plans. If Alek and Cas can accept you, he should be able to too.
“I’m guessing they didn’t lose anyone they cared about to someone like me.”
Julita lets out a huff.Whatever murderous villain killed Stavros’s friend, they weren’t like you at all. I’ve had to live with someone who was merelytryingto become an evil sorcerer, and I can assure you, you’re leagues better than even that.
My mouth slants into a crooked smile. I wish I could appreciate Julita’s reassurances more.
There’s a soft thump, as if Stavros has struck the mattress. I wince.
It might not even be about you,Julita adds.I can’t begin to imagine how many horrifying things he must have seen during his days on the battlefield.
That’s true, but the next sound that filters through the door comes in perfectly distinct words. “Ivy. No.”
