Page 42 of This Vicious Dream

I follow her into the house, even as my skin prickles with warning. Without Fliora’s power hiding me, it’s likely Calysian is on his way. And yet, I can’t just leave Fliora here without ensuring she will be safe. Not after the way I got her mother killed.

“Sit,” Yalanda bustles around the tiny kitchen, gesturing for both of us to sit at the small table near the window, its surface blistered and worn but glistening faintly with fresh oil. A bright woolen cloth lies draped across the center of the table, a glass jar of wildflowers brightening the space.

The room may be sparse, but it’s still filled with small personal touches—a crooked shelf of books, a string of dried herbs hanging above the table, a collection of handmade pottery in soothing blues and grays.

But it’s the small table in the far corner I’m most interested in. Kyldare’s witch owned many of those same tools, would pour her dark tonics into vials that looked just like those sitting out in the open in this small, cheerful kitchen.

My attention lingers on the tiny white petals sitting in a neat pile next to those vials. Breathtakingly rare and shockingly expensive, blightflower petals are lethal in large doses. In small doses and when brewed with several other ingredients to make a tonic, they allow the drinker to see their past lives.

“I’ll make tea,” Yalanda says. She wipes her eyes as she moves to the cupboard, and I don’t have it in me to decline, even as I keep my gaze on the blightflower petals, the candles, the ritual knives, the vials.

Yalanda places cups in front of both of us, adding a third for herself before pressing a kiss to Fliora’s forehead and taking a seat next to me.

She follows my gaze. “Our grandmother was a witch. She passed some of her secrets down to us.” Her eyes meet mine once more. “He’s not here yet. The one who searches for you.”

“How do you know about him?”

Yalanda sighs. “Shaena was not the only seer in the family. Her gift…it is…wasmuch greater than mine. Which has allowed me to have a mostly normal life. But both of us had visions of this time. And—” her voice cuts off and she flicks a glance at Fliora, who is staring at her wide-eyed. “Perhaps this is a discussion for another time.”

“No,” Fliora’s chin sticks out.

Yalanda studies her for a long moment, and then sighs again. “Very well. Shaena had a vision when she was younger, not long after Fliora was born. She learned about the grimoires, the dark god, and Vicana’s plans to use any grimoires she could find. My sister knew you would find her, and that it would lead to her death.”

I force myself to look at Fliora. She’s staring down at the table, her shoulders shaking. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

Yalanda follows my gaze, her eyes sparkling with her own tears. When she turns back to me, her mouth trembles, but she wipes at her eyes.

“While you were trapped, the queen had her people hunting for any mention of you, your friends, and your ship. She knows your exact path to this continent, and each place the ship docked. Her men have bribed and tortured for three years to learn where and when you left the ship, and they are close to finding the first grimoire. Even now, they are on the way to its location.”

Fucking Vicana. Why is it that people in power are never content with what they have? They’re like leeches, growing fat and swollen and still needingmore.

“The dark god placed one grimoire on each continent,” she says.

I know what she’s implying. That I should be the one to protectallof the grimoires. Slowly, I get to my feet. “Thank you for your time.”

Her hands tighten around her cup. “What would your friends say if they knew you were choosing to ignore such a threat?”

Hundreds of men have withered at the look I give her, and yet she merely raises an eyebrow.

I clench my teeth. “Myfriendsare safely on another continent, enjoying their lives.”

The words come out evenly, without inflection. But I feel part of my soul crack, my blood turning to ice.

I was foolish to imagine they would come for me. Foolish to hope. Whatever friendship we had, it ended the moment I left that continent. Or perhaps it was never a true friendship, merely an alliance formed only due to impending war.

She gives me an impatient look. “And so you would let this continent fall?”

No. And not just because I won’t watch the people here suffer. But because Vicana took three years of my life. I won’t let her get her hands on the grimoire. And I won’t rest until she’s dead.

She nods at whatever she sees on my face. “There you go. Find the grimoires. Protect them. Just don’t let theminor you will become a worse threat than the dark god.”

I know what she’s saying. I miss the dark power, miss the way it made me feel.

Powerful. Like I’d been wrapped in vengeance.

Yalanda slowly turns her head, her eyes darkening. “He’s here.”

Madinia

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