“You experienced only a small portion of their realm and already you have determined what it values is —”
“Disposability.” The word popped out before she could stop it. Dylan was a prime example. His father neglected him. His mother abandoned him. His old friends forgot him. From the moment of his birth, he was a child without a real home.
Baun shook his head and tsked his tongue. “You have become jaded.”
“It doesn’t matter. My life is nearly gone.”
“Let’s not speak of sad things. Tell me, what is your one wish?”
She used to have so many. Now it felt pointless. “I don’t wish to chase shadows anymore. I want to see Dylan again.”
He stood and held out his hand. She took it and rose. His face turned grave, his voice sad. “If I could grant that wish, I would, but I cannot. Is there another, one I can fulfill? Something you love above all else?”
“I love to dance.”
“What is your favorite color?”
“Red. The red of my father’s roses.”
A smile lightened his face. “My favorite as well.”
He pulled her toward the front of the house. They were only a few steps away when the doors swept open, allowing them to step into an expansive ballroom filled with gaily dressed people. White marble shone from the floors to the columns that were sculpted with all manner of flora and fauna. Red roses burst from hanging vases along the walls and were stationed at every table. A smile touched Kera’s lips and she turned to Baun. He was dressed in an elaborate charcoal-colored suit any gentleman of his era would wear with pride, his ascot full, his waistcoat finely made. He handed his top hat and cane to a footman while another swept her cloak from her shoulders to reveal a glimmering red ball gown more beautiful than any she’d ever seen.
Baun swept her onto the dance floor, where they twirled along with the other couples. She changed partners with each dance, but somehow always ended up near Baun by the song’s end. She laughed from the sheer joy of the moment. It felt like forever and like the moment had only begun when Baun pulled her to a table laden with all manner of food and drinks.
“If you were my daughter, I would say you are a blushing new flower in dire need of watering. Need I ask if you are enjoying yourself?”
“Never. It’s lovely here.” She sipped and nibbled under his watchful eye, commenting on the beauty of the room and the couples around them. Baun had a fine wit and wicked tongue that made her laugh outright.
The lights suddenly dimmed and the edges of their dream blurred. Kera knew what that meant. Any moment she could be yanked away.
Baun bowed over her hand and smiled. “It has been a pleasant distraction, our shared dreams.”
“Why do people hate you so?” It was an honest question, for she couldn’t imagine hating him, ever.
His smile widened and he dropped her hand. “I am not hated. Only two men sought to control me. Your father and mine. They sent me here because they feared the passion I had for my people.”
That assessment was not quite right. She took a tiny step back and muttered, “You went on a killing spree.”
His face didn’t register surprise, hurt, or anger. It was as calm as the moonless night sky. “I punished those who threatened my people. What I did was no worse than what people do in any war. Innocent people are inadvertently killed. It isn’t right, but it happens.”
A shiver ran down her back. She concentrated on twisting a loose thread dangling from the beading that decorated the dress around her waist. He seemed so earnest, like there was nothing dishonorable about what he did. Was he right? Had his motives been pure?
The thread popped and the tiny red beads bounced along the marble floor like spilled blood. Kera pressed her hand to the spot, hoping no more fell. “Oh no. I’ve ruined the dress and it was so beautiful.”
“It matters not at all.” He pulled her hand away, and the dress was as it had always been. Searching the floor, she didn’t see any beads. Why was he able to manipulate the dreams so much better than her? It didn’t seem right, like she should pay more attention.
Another shiver seized her.
“Do not let what I said bother you. I am not proud of the deaths that occurred. I believed they were unavoidable, but they were never wanted.” He pulled back and in a flash procured a glimmering honey-colored shawl that smelled deliciously sweet and felt as soft as butter. He settled it around her shoulders. “I have news, though I debated whether or not to say anything. I believe Dylan is trying to find you.”
Her heart lightened instantly until she noticed the sensation of something wet and uncomfortable clinging to her skin, a sensation that had steadily been climbing. She swallowed and splayed her fingers against her collarbone as if to protect it. The boy was almost done. She could feel the cocoon settling around her neck. She refused to give in to the fear that threatened to consume her and forced a smile to her lips. “What else did the
Baun took her hand, his countenance suddenly somber. “Teag is suffering. If only they would release me. The chains that bind me in my cell dampen my nature, but as king, my power is nearly unlimited. If I were free, I would return the dark souls to where I sent them and bring peace.” He closed his eyes and took a deep, heartfelt breath. “Peace. It is what I crave not just for myself, but for my people.”
She knew he could do what he claimed. She’d felt his power herself. Had marveled at its strength even in his weakened state. “Does Dylan have the same power as you?”
He tucked her arm within the crook of his and escorted her on a stroll around the dance floor. Leaning close, he said, “Yes and no. As of yet, Dylan doesn’t have the power I do. Only when he is king will it transfer from me to him. Yet he is my heir. The moment he stepped into Teag, he took on the obligation of reigning in my absence. It is his birthright. His duty.”
She twirled a fluted glass between her fingers and thought of how the council had marked Dylan for death without ever having met him. “They refused him. Tried to kill him.”
“But he is still alive.” She heard the pride in Baun’s voice and noticed how animated he became when he talked of Dylan. He tightened his fist in front of him. “He must
Baun was anything but weak. Surely he could help her. Her time was nearly up. She had to dare the question, not as a wish, but as a possibility.
“Is there nothing you can do to—” She broke eye contact, realizing she treaded in uneasy waters. This was the Lost King. He had, by his own admission, unlimited power when he was not chained. She felt guilty for what she was about to ask when so many more needed him, but she was desperate and he had been so kind, so unlike what everyone had led her to believe. She swallowed and forced the words out. “…nothing you can do to help me escape?”
“I—” His lips tightened and his open manner grew grim. The lights dimmed even more and the people faded into the edges of the dream, leaving them suddenly alone beneath the glimmering chandelier. “There is one thing…but…it is never done.”
“What is it?”
He looked away, clearly uncomfortable, but she pressed him. “Please. I am dying.”
He pulled away. “I know.”
He paced in front of her, his frown deep and brooding. He started to tell her several times, but swallowed back the words, until he stopped and swung to face her. “I can force myself into people’s minds, embed ideas, but it is forbidden. It controls people beyond a vow of loyalty, and if I use it, I can and will be put to death.”
Death. Why must every turn lead to death?
The ceiling crumbled away as she sank to the floor. She didn’t care when the marble beneath her gave way to grass. She stared woodenly ahead like a lost and unloved doll thrown into a darkened corner.
He shook his head and sat on the ground beside her. A king, brought to his knees by her pitiable state. “I am weak. I have been beaten down these many years until there is no fire left in me.”
“That is not true,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve seen it grow with every one of our visits. It gave me hope. I thought maybe…”
It didn’t matter. Her time was at an end. He had tried so hard to make her last moments beautiful and she
