Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 265

Chapter 265: No thanks
Mia winced at Denholm’s blunt phrasing.

“No.” The wight replied.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” The son of the dead Count demanded. “You think you own the thing? Of course not! My father first discovered it, and it’s mine now that he passed!”

His logic was somewhat more coherent than Mia had expected, and she glanced to the wight. It seemed puzzled, and perhaps a bit irritated, by Denholm’s outburst. The man became irate, striding towards the tree and pointing to it, heedless of the dragons that softly breathed out tendrils of smoke as they watched him.

“Tree. Mine.” Denholm said slowly and loudly.

“No,” The wight repeated slowly, as if to a child.

Denholm placed a possessive hand on the trunk of the golden tree. He was so close to the dragons that sweat poured down his face, and he seemed to sway.

“This. Is. Mine.” Denholm said again. “If you want any rights to it, you have to negotiate with me. I’m a reasonable man.”

The wight who had spoken before gazed intently at him and spoke slowly once more, pointing at Denholm’s chest.

“Stolen magic.”

“Stolen? How dare you. I’m as upstanding a citizen as they come!” Denholm glared.

The wight’s head turned to look at the other two humans… no, past them. Towards the entrance.

“More?” The wight tilted its head, and Mia’s heart flew to her throat.

She looked for her father, uncle, and grandfather. An image flashed in front of her face. They were in the room, making their way through the maze of stalagmites and rock formations on the cavern floor.

Mia felt a wave of heat, followed by an icy chill, run down her spine as she realized her family was within the wights’ perception.

“More what? More money? I can give you money,” Denholm assured the wight. “Give me a few years and I can give your dragons more gold than they can fathom!”

“More people,” The wight clarified.

“You want people? Slaves? I can enslave a hundred thousand, only leave me the tree,” Denholm snapped, before he paused and noticed the direction of the wight’s gaze. “Wait. There are more people here?”

Mia inhaled deeply, the simmering air of the cave filling her lungs. This would do no good, she was certain, but she had to try.

“PAPA, RUN!!!” She need not have yelled quite so loud; the walls of the cave echoed her cry into the far reaches of the cave, reverberating in an eerie cacophony of panic.

As the sound dwindled, it was overridden by a new sound. Feet pounding the earth. It echoed, and though Mia knew there were only three men, it seemed like far more. Like an army.

The wight remained nonplussed, and Mia clenched her eyes shut.

“AWAY! RUN AWAY!” Her voice cracked. She should have known her family would not run if they thought she was in danger. She had merely hastened their pursuit.

“Your folks are here?” Ford put together the clues beside her. She nodded, and he removed the arm he’d had around her shoulders to help support himself.

Mia frowned, but the look he cut her spoke clearly.

“I might not be killed by dragons or whatever those things are,” Ford whispered. “Your family is already ready enough to kill me.”

The running footsteps came closer, and Uncle Trace skidded around the corner first, his eyes wild as they focused first on Mia with relief, and then on Ford in anger. When he looked past them, an expression Mia had never seen passed across his features.

Hatred.

“Denholm,” He said the name like a curse, and turned an accusatory glare on Ford, “You worked for this monster to steal my niece from us?”

“That’s ridiculous!” Mia cried. “You think Denholm would have beat Ford to a pulp if they were on the same side??”

Trace’s eyes narrowed, and Ford let out a low grunt under his breath, as if offended by the description of events.

Mia’s father and grandfather came into view, and both froze, immediately taking a wider view of things than Trace had.

“Dragons!” Grandpa gulped.

“Denholm has always had the power to alter perception,” Trace shrugged. “I assume these are an extension of that power, the ability to create hallucinations in the presence of the tree. I don’t think you need to worry about them.”

Mia cleared her throat.

“They… were already here when we arrived. They are real.”

The center wight was examining Trace with more interest than it had Denholm, and stepped closer. Lifting its hand it pointed at his head.

“Dreams.”

Trace took a deep breath and cut a glance at Mia, and a second at Denholm, who now had his arms possessively wrapped around the tree.

“You’re sure he’s not doing this?” He asked his niece.

“He’s been arguing with them, so unless he’s putting on quite a grand performance for no real gain, I would think not,” Mia said in low tones.

“We… dream.” The wight spoke again, ignoring the humans’ side conversation.

“That’s nice,” Trace smiled nervously. “May we take Denholm, and leave?”

The wight swayed as it seemed to consider the proposal, its long white hair drifting gently around its translucent body.

The other two stepped forward and took its hands, and the trio closed their eyes for the barest second in a unison blink that was far more unnerving than Mia would have expected it to be.

“Take… leave.” The wight replied at length.

“Thank you,” Trace said with relief. “He is a traitor to our kingdom and an accomplice to countless crimes. You have our thanks for handing him over.”

Trace waved his hand and conjured a large hand that grabbed Denholm around the waist. Mia gasped. She’d never seen her uncle do anything like that!

“NO!” The Denholm screamed, turning on Trace. Mia’s uncle flinched and sucked in a breath.

“Ouch,” Trace responded through clenched teeth. “Stop it.”

The hand seemed to squeeze Denholm tighter, and the evil man sneered at Trace, “Never.”

“Stop.” The wight said firmly. “We, take and leave.”