I rushed to the edge of the hull, balanced my hands on the rail, and hoisted one leg over.
Father followed after me and grabbed my arm. “Neara.” His voice was as sharp as Melusina’s teeth. “What are you doing?”
“This isn’t real.” I kicked him aside and plunged headfirst into the sea.
Unexpectedly warm water whirled around my body, tasting and smelling of foul meat and not brine. Stinging sensations spread across my skin as though it had been scratched with thorns and then doused with strong vinegar. I resurfaced from the sea and inhaled a frantic breath, blinking through the prickling of my eyes.
A wave slammed me against the ship’s hull, and another raised me toward Father’s grasping hands. I held my breath, dove beneath the putrid sea, and thrashed against the current. I would not let it drag me back into that ship.
“Wake up,” a voice bubbled up through the water.
I flailed my arms against the attacking waves.
“Neara!” Drayce’s voice cut through the sea like a blade.
My eyes snapped open, and bright light flooded my vision. Panting hard, I sucked in a loud breath, my eyes darting from side to side. I was lying on a bed of moss, staring up into Drayce’s worried eyes.
Above him was a canopy of branches, just like the four-poster bed in the dreamscape. Rosalind, Aengus, and Cathbad stood at the foot of the bed, their faces grave.
“What happened?” I rasped.
Drayce’s face shuttered. “The stairs were a trap, and we fell into this chamber. Then the Fear Dorcha challenged me to awaken you with a kiss.”
I glanced over his shoulder into a large chamber of black. Sitting on an oversized throne was a dark figure stroking Erin’s tufty-eared head. He leaned forward, his glowing eyes gleaming with malice. I gulped, remembering having seen them both in one of Drayce’s dreams. What in the name of the saints did this mean?
“Well done, King Salamander,” sarcasm dripped from his voice. “But my mistress has nearly completed assimilating her beautiful new body.”
Chapter 25
I pushed myself off the mossy mattress and flailed tendril-covered arms, remembering how the bed of moss had once tried to consume Drayce. The branches from the trunk that made up the four-poster bed lowered themselves from the canopy, aiming for my limbs.
“Get off.” I scrambled off the bed of moss so quickly that I made Drayce stumble backward.
He caught me in his arms, and stared at me through wide, green eyes. I glanced over my shoulder for signs of vines or moss or vegetation crawling on my skin, but all I found was my leather armor.
“Neara?” The fingers around my shoulders tightened. “What’s wrong?”
Rosalind, Aengus, and Cathbad stood behind Drayce, each holding glowing torches and staring at me with varying degrees of concern. How long had I been asleep on that bed? What had the Fear Dorcha done to stop them from fighting?
My gaze dropped to the ankle-high grass on the floor, which swayed in an imaginary breeze. Then I turned to the far side of the room, where the Fear Dorcha continued staring at us from his throne.
Despite the lack of light reaching the darkened figure, I could see the Fear Dorcha’s long, black fingers caressing Erin’s tawny fur. The doe’s ears flattened, and she stared ahead through heavy lidded eyes. He was either keeping her in this half-aware state or she truly felt relaxed in his company.
Drayce’s voice continued battering through my fog of uncertainty. I shook my head, not able to push away the doubt creeping through the back of my mind. He said Melusina had nearly finished taking my body, but I couldn’t see the wretched creature.
“Where is she?” I snarled at the figure on the throne. “Where’s Melusina?”
Drayce stepped back and frowned. My lips thinned. My Drayce would be working out a plan to get us out of here and wouldn’t turn his back on an enemy.
A deep, throaty laugh echoed through the room. Anger seared through my veins and the contents of my stomach burned with resentment. I recognized that awful sound, heard it the time I’d snuck into the chamber where she had imprisoned Father. Melusina had laughed like that when she had fed on him, even when he begged for death.
“Have you worked it out?” she asked through chuckles.
“This is a dream.” I glanced at Drayce, whose skin turned brown and thickened into bark. Branches emerged from his head, and he transformed into a tree. Aengus, Cathbad, and Rosalind shimmered into bushes.
My hands balled into fists, and I stalked toward the throne. “When did you ensnare us?”
“A little sprinkle of sleeping sand, and you all succumbed,” her voice crooned from the ivy walls.
“The spider.” Dread tumbled through my insides. The spices had been strange at the time, but I'd been more worried about the spider wanting to make my companions its next meal.
Each step I took toward the Fear Dorcha brought me no closer to the throne, and his shadowy fingers continued to stroke Erin’s head.
Cold realization drenched my bones as the Fear Dorcha’s words returned to the front of my mind. Whatever Melusina was doing to my body, she had nearly finished. I was running out of time. They would only risk gloating because they were close to victory. I turned my gaze to the leafy branches that made up the ceiling. Dangling from the twigs were acorns the size of plums.
“How are you absorbing my body?” I shouted.
“Sssh,” she said. “By the time I’ve finished, darling Drayce won’t know the difference between you and me.”
My chest tightened with trepidation. “What have you done with him?”
“He’s perfectly safe,” she replied. “And trapped in an alternative dream where he’s battling the Fear Dorcha with you and winning. How he will howl when he realizes that it’s me inside the body he so dearly loves.”
The grass around my
