Page 89 of This Vicious Dream

“Madinia.”

When I next crack open my eyes, the sun is setting. The air smells sweeter, fresher. We’re no longer in the swamp.

Calysian’s arms tense around me. “You’re smiling.”

“Didn’t…want…to die…there.”

Speaking is exhausting, and the sweet relief of unconsciousness beckons once more. The pain has lessened, which even I know is not a good sign.

“You’re not dying.” His voice is strained…shaken. He’s ignoring the facts, turning to delusion instead.

Gods. Clearly they’re not all that different from us.

The world wobbles around me, and I stare up at the sky. It’s as if some other god has been finger painting swirls of lavender tinged with gold. The breeze lifts my hair, carrying the scent of flowers and greenery.

I should have focused more on these moments over the past days. Regret is a heavy weight to bear. And yet I’m so, so grateful to have escaped that tower. Even my worst moments were still moments of freedom.

“We’re less than an hour from Nyrridor.” Calysian’s voice is tight, and when I manage to tilt my head, his gaze is fixed, focused forward.

Nyrridor. It was a smart choice. We’re closer to the western coast. And the healers are likely to be much better than anything on offer in the village we visited before plunging into the swamp.

“Need you…to do…something for me.”

Calysian glances down, and there’s nothing soft in his expression, nothing warm in his eyes.

“I am thedarkgod. I don’t complete last wishes or answer deathbed pleas. If you want something done, you’ll have to live and see to it yourself.”

“Hate…you.”

A muscle feathers in his jaw, and when he rips his gaze from my face, I suddenly feel colder.

He knew what I was going to ask of him. Find Daharak and the others.

When he glances down at me once more, his eyes are like burning coals. “Madinia Farrow, felled by an arrow,” he muses. “It sounds like a song. Or a rhyme. Maybe even ajoke. Few will believe it. Although those who have wished you dead—and with your attitude I’m sure there are many—will laugh and laugh.”

I know what he’s doing, and still, I glower at him. Even as I cough up more blood, my chest burning like the hottest flames.

Unsurprisingly, he seems pleased by my glare. But he drops his gaze to my lips, and his face drains of color.

I don’t have to ask what he sees. I’ve seen enough people die this way.

My lips will be turning blue. Already, I feel chilled, with the disconcerting feeling that I’m floating somewhere above my body.

I return my attention to the sky. The lavender is darkening now. Will I live to see a few stars appear above my head?

This is not a good death. It’s not one I would have chosen for myself. And still, it’s better than wasting away in that tower. I may be dying, but I’m dying while wrapped in the arms of someone who would prefer for me to live. Just days ago, such a thing was unimaginable.

I’m living again. Even as I’m dying. The irony isn’t lost on me.

But I want tokeepliving. Useless frustration flashes through me, melding with the pain that burns relentlessly through me.

“Just…just hold on.” Calysian’s voice is a low growl. I can’t see his face. Panic floods me as my vision darkens once more. I’m not ready. Not—

Calysian

I’ve allowed Fox to slow while Madinia was conscious, aware that the jostling of his faster gait will be agonizing. When Madinia’s eyes roll back into her head, I urge Fox into a gallop.

A cold, endless rage burns through me.

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