would be more than mortified had he found you here — he would have strung up every last one of your accomplices by their feet and watched with no remorse as they were tarred.'
She giggled again. 'Creative. I think I might like to see that — it could prove rather entertaining. It's quite dull around here isn't it?'
The Braeden tried not to laugh, but Ariana's irreverence toward Michael proved too much. Their restraint crumbled, leaving Michael's face stern as he walked her out of the pub, pulling the hood of her cloak over her head as they entered the street.
'Are you ashamed of me as well?' she mumbled.
He stopped, whirled around, and took her face in his hands, steadying her unsure gaze. 'It's your comfort that concerns me, not hiding who you are.' He paused. 'You're drunk.'
She shook her head. 'I believe I was drunk an hour ago.'
Flustered, he dropped his hands and turned back toward the keep. 'I suggest you lie down for awhile lest you wake with the headache I fear will keep you close company this evening, though I question your ability to do much of anything reasonable at this point. Kaitlyn will call for you when the feast begins.'
'I resent that, too,' she quipped, proud of herself for holding what she hoped was a reprimanding scowl on her face. 'I'm reasonably able to call myself to the feast!'
CHAPTER TWELVE
Garren walked into the chilled night air, his boots scraping against the dirt and stone, the sound echoing in the stillness. His head felt clouded and heavy, his vision hindered by disorientation. He could recall nothing of where he'd been before then.
Eidolon was illuminated by the glow of the moon. Shadows were his only company as he wandered past one deserted building after another. After a while, he found that he'd wandered to the oldest part of the dividing wall, made of iron and covered in thick ivy. It was unremarkable for a few paces, but as he approached an aperture, he caught a fleeting glimpse of red through the leaves.
He tore the ivy away and saw nothing for a moment. Then, just ahead of him, he caught another flash of moonlit red and he ran after it, tearing at the ivy every few feet in an attempt to catch her. Finally, he reached an opening, and though it wasn't the gate that he'd recalled, he found himself face to face with her.
He was speechless. She apparently was, too. If he could just see clearly — everything seemed so distant, so hazy. She stood in silence, her blue eyes not quite as bright as they'd been the last time he'd encountered her. He pulled his glove from his hand and reached through the bars, certain that she'd shy away.
She remained still as he swept his fingers across her cheek, her skin warm to the touch. He started to speak, but though he stood right in front of her, his very flesh upon hers, her presence felt like a beautiful illusion and some part of him feared that if he spoke, she'd vanish. He'd just parted his lips, willing to take the risk, when he heard a sickening scream.
At first he thought it was coming from the castle, but, to his horror, he saw the Moriors approaching her from behind. He pulled his hand back and tried the iron, finding it as solid as it appeared.
'Garren.' Her voice trembled.
He tried to climb the wall, but every foothold failed him. He attempted in vain to use his powers to remove the wall between. His sight spun as he clung to her through the bars, her hands fastened on his arm so tightly that she broke his skin. As the sharp claws of the Moriors pierced her chest, he cried out.
Sweat poured over Garren as he bolted upright in bed, his heart beating hard. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to get his bearings. As he brought his hands back down to his sides, he felt a sting on his right arm and when he looked down, he could barely make out, in the faint light, a bloody tear where hands had clung to him. He traced it with his fingers, expecting it to vanish at any moment. His pulse quickened further as it dawned on him.
She said my name.
Michael was downstairs with Jenner when Kaitlyn tore around the corner.
'My Lord,' she leaned over with her hands on her knees as she caught her breath. 'She's screaming! She's asleep, but I can't wake her. I just know something's wrong.'
Michael didn't wait to hear anything else. He grabbed Jenner by the arm and started up the stairs toward the north hall.
As he approached the back corridor, he heard her crying out and ran faster. It was a terrifying scream, sounding more from pain than fear. He reached the doors first and as he swung them open, he could see her thrashing about on the bed. As soon as he reached her, he took her by the arms and called her name, but just as Kaitlyn had said, Ariana didn't respond.
Jenner stepped forward. 'Nor dunto lathoro toul verdet et antonai.' As Jenner spoke, Ariana began to struggle less against Michael's hold. Her breathing stayed the same, as did the level of distress in her expression. 'Navi lavotu ahnorno nigh say entiron laithos.'
She fell limp against Michael.
'Ariana,' Jenner said softly.
She stirred, turning her head, as if she were trying to push the dream away. Once she finally opened her eyes, she saw Michael first and clutched the sleeves of his shirt.
'Ariana,' Michael turned her face to his. 'You were dreaming.'
Ariana couldn't speak right away. He pulled her to him, this time wrapping his arms around her, but felt his skin grow wet and warm. He lifted his hand to the light, and saw that it was covered in blood. Horrified, he looked to Jenner.
The elder reached over and pulled at Ariana's gown to expose long cuts that tore through her skin. They were superficial wounds, little more than scratches, but quite real.
Michael's eyes darkened, 'Ariana, what aren't you telling me?'
She tried to speak, but her voice came out as a sob instead.
'Leave us,' Michael said softly.
Jenner motioned for Kaitlyn to follow him into the hall. 'Would you have me postpone tonight's affair until tomorrow?'
Michael looked at Ariana doubtfully. 'Begin without us.' He watched them disappear through the doorway before he turned back around. He could see in her eyes the hesitation to reveal anything and almost scolded her for it, but behind her reluctance was clear and unmistakable fear. He swallowed his disapproval and tried his best to be patient.
'What did you see in this dream?'
Ariana shook still but had calmed down enough to speak. 'I saw Garren — Moriors — a place that I can only assume is Eidolon.'
Michael's face hardened.
'He didn't do this to me,' she whispered.
Michael closed his eyes and bent his head to keep from showing his fury. He could tell she was afraid to provoke him and he needed her to be honest with him. It was frustrating that she would consider the High Lord innocent in any way.
'Don't be foolish! He has no benevolence. Dark to his very core, whatever poison he is using to tempt you into thinking of him in any other way is straight from Ciara herself. Why didn't you disclose this before? I assume that this isn't the first time you've seen visions of him?'
'What could you have done?' she asked, quickly showing regret for her words.
'What would I not have done to prevent this?' Michael glanced away, reining in his emotions. 'He's inflicted horrible deaths upon our people out of sheer spite. He's slain without consideration of gender or age — infants, women, children — it makes no difference to him. Blood is blood.' He let go of her and rose from the bed. He walked
