Page 91 of Night of the Witch
“Fritzi.”
“I don’t trust you to actually wake me up when it’s time to switch.”
“I wouldn’t—”
“I think you’ll let me sleep as long as I like because of your stubborn male pride, and then you’ll just suffer being sleepless tomorrow. SoI’lltake the first watch, and I’ll wakeyouup when it’s time.”
There’s a pause. Then a rumble of his frustrated sigh.
“Verdammt, Fritzi, could you just—” He stops, and he takes a long, settling breath. “Please don’t fight me. Sleep first. I’ll wake you up. I promise.”
If we could see each other beyond shapes in the dark, we’d be glaring.
I sigh dramatically. “I’ll let you win this one.”
I swear I can hear his eyes roll. “Whatever gets you to sleep.”
“Gute Nacht, jäger.” He grins at my teasing tone. I hold the oars out to him to be tucked on his side of the boat, since Liesel has taken up mine. “Here.”
He finds my arm in the dark, his rough fingers tightening around my elbow, and something twists deep beneath my belly button.
His touch relaxes. Works its way up to my hand, increment by increment. He clasps his fingers around mine, and I feel the heat of his exhale on my wrist.
Maid, Mother, and Crone, I’m justhanding him oars; this is not in any wayexciting—
And yet my core is twisted and tight and I can’tbreathe.
“Gute Nacht, hexe.” There’s a smile in his voice as he takes the oars from me.
Schiesse. This trip will kill me.
I settle into the boat as best I can, my stomach fluttering, curling into myself the same way Liesel still is, using my arm as a pillow and knees to my chest.
It’s only thanks to being racked with exhaustion—and hopeful that I will be less distracted once I’ve actually slept—that I’m able to even entertain the idea of sleep. The moment my eyes close, the sway of the boat wraps around my mind, and I slip deep into darkness—down, down…
The forest around Birresborn is burning. Every tree, every leaf, every blade of grass. I spin, but I cannot think of how to stop it; what spell can I use? What can—
Me. Use me. Stop relying on these limitations.
The voice comes from behind me.
I will not turn around. I willnot. Smoke thickens, delves into my lungs, and I cough, tears springing to my eyes.
“Do you hear the voice, too, Fritzichen? You do, don’t you?”
In front of me, Dieter materializes out of the smoke.
Use me!the voice begs.
I’m trapped. Dieter, the voice; both terrify me to my soul; both leave me grasping for what to do as the forest continues to burn, burn, burn.
Dieter takes a step closer. “You think you escaped me? Go ahead and run, meine Schwester. I don’t need to chase you. I know where you are going. I know what you will try to do. I know everything, because we’re the same, don’t you see? We’re the same, and before the end, you’ll beg for my help.” He grins. “Or for my mercy. Either way, you willbeg.”
My mouth opens, but I can’t speak—the smoke is too thick, the air choked with ash and the stench of fire, and I’m vibrating with fear, the look in Dieter’s eyes.
This is a dream. I know it is.Wake up, wake up—
I stumble, frantic, turn away from him, try to run—
