Felix huffed. ‘You keep saying that.’
‘Because I believe it.’ Loren flopped onto his back, wrist cradled against his chest, other arm splayed above his head. ‘Thank you. For coming after me. With how you stormed from the tavern, I thought you’d be long gone by now.’
A question lurked in Loren’s tone. Felix suspected he knew which. He picked a stray thread on the blanket, thinking back to the street party and the gazes sliding past – and the startling, sudden awareness that Loren looked at Felix andsawand didn’t look away.
Heat crept up Felix’s neck. ‘We have a deal. Three more days.’
‘Since when do you do as I say?’ When Felix stayed silent, Loren hummed and continued, ‘Thanks for staying, if nothing else.’
‘Loren?’
‘Yeah?’ Loren breathed.
‘Go to sleep.’
He did face Felix then, offered a sleepy, sweet smile and shut his eyes. A moment later, the rise of his chest evened beneath blankets.
For all his exhaustion, Felix stayed awake, stomach in knots. What had he told Aurelia, just hours before? Once Loren was safe, he would do whatever it took to ditch the city, clear of the debt between them. But he remembered the starved way Julia watched Loren, sizing him up to swallow whole. And Loren, who had no instinct for deceit, as Felix was coming to realise, hadn’t batted an eye. The fact was that neither was safe, not here in this empty, labyrinthine estate.
He’d told Aurelia,Once Loren was safe.
He’d promised Loren,Till week’s end.
Felix stared at the ceiling, confused and conflicted, and didn’t sleep.
Chapter XII
LOREN
Loren wished he was surprised when he blinked awake – not awake – at the edge of the world, but the novelty of his dreams had worn off many years and many horrors ago.
Darkness pooled thick, stars blotted out, moon absent. Hot wind whipped through empty space, cascading off the cliff edge he toed. Jagged white spires rose like teeth from the black yawn below, the open jaw of a beast. A red storm raged over a peak in the distance. This place was barren. Lifeless.
‘Why did you bring me here?’ Loren asked the hopeless silence.
‘You tell me. This is your dream,’ said a voice from behind.
Loren may as well have been stabbed again, the way his breath punched from his lungs. The last thing he’d expected was for Ghost-Felix to answer. And itwasFelix’s voice, Loren didn’t need to turn to see, even if the ghost spoke through flat, hollow vowels, and not in the real Felix’s knife-sharp cadence. The dissonance squeezed his heart.
Ghost-Felix edged nearer until he stood beside Loren, a careful distance apart. He stared blankly through unhappy eyes, his body faded like over-laundered linen. Hissing steam pooled around bare, bloody feet.
He held the hilt out. An olive branch.
When Loren didn’taccept, the ghost let it slip from his fingers. Striking the cliff’s edge, it bounced, then fell in a deadly spiral down, down. Loren didn’t hear it hit the bottom.
‘Bring the helmet,’ Ghost-Felix rasped, ‘and I’ll do more than tell you. I’llshow you.’
Loren made to protest, tried to cry that the helmet was cursed and dangerous and he’d never put that power in this Felix’s hands, but the ghost stepped forward and words evaporated. The earth trembled. Another step. An arm’s length away. Less. Their chests were nearly pressed, noses brushing. Empty heat flooded the gap. Still, Ghost-Felix didn’t touch.
For his part, Loren’s shivers turned to shakes. He wanted to press his mouth to Felix. He wanted to cast him over the edge. He wanted to follow all the way down.
The ghost breathed, ‘If you want to stop this, come and find me.’
The seam of the black sky tore, and ash, again, rolled out.
Loren woke with his lungs burning. He whipped to look across, neck straining, only to find smooth sheets. The bed looked unslept in. Unsurprisingly, Felix was gone.
Or not. Loren’s darting eyes landed on worn sandals. Felix had been so delighted to recover them the other day, his only pair, that Loren couldn’t imagine him abandoning them here. Something eased in his chest. He knew he shouldn’t, but he took it as a sign Felix planned to return.