Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 408

Chapter 408: Burn it
“Just me, or everyone?” Anaisa looked at the rest of the humans, a bit surprised to be so easily taken at her word.

“Stay,” The wight looked briefly around at the others, already moving towards the edge of the bed.

“I’m not letting her go without me,” Trace’s arms tightened around Anaisa, but she shook her head.

“You’re needed here. The sooner I can get this resolved, the better. I’ll send a short message and be back as quickly as I can.” She lifted her chin and pressed her lips to his in a brief kiss to allay his fears.

The wights had taken care of him all this time, so she didn’t fear for her own safety. After all, she was at least as necessary to the success of things as… well, not quite as necessary as Trace was, but perhaps vital enough to be protected and taken care of!

“I don’t like it,” He growled. “I just got you back.”

“I’m not going far… I think,” Anaisa tried to reassure him, although, honestly, she wasn’t entirely sure. “Right?”

In any case, she didn’t dare disobey the strange creatures who controlled dragons and suppressed magic. Surely as long as she cooperated with them, things would be better.

The wight pointed at the restless emperor, who was beginning to stir, and Trace grunted as he expended more effort and magic to keep everything in check.

“You can’t go on like this,” Anaisa decided. “I’ll be back. I didn’t come all this way for nothing.”

Trace pulled in a deep breath and squeezed her against him. Anaisa held back tears, her emotions in tatters. The bittersweet sensation of being back in his arms, but also at the edge of a brewing war, was almost too much for her heart to bear.

Yet, bear it she must. There was work to be done, and no one else to do it.

“Where are you taking her?” Trace asked the wight, “You’re bringing her right back, aren’t you?”

The wight stared, somehow seeming impatient despite its unchanging expression, so Trace spoke to it again, more fiercely.

“If anything happens to her, I don’t care about any of this. The emperor, his dreams. I’ll be done. I’ll let the world burn. Without her it means nothing to me anyway.”

Anaisa gasped slightly, thinking of their sons, but Trace cut her a glance. He didn’t mean it, surely, but just wanted to impress upon the wights the importance of her safety.

“Hurry,” The wight said, though whether that meant it would hurry to get the task done, or it was urging Anaisa to hurry, she couldn’t quite tell.

“Come back quickly, I need to know everything that’s happened while we were apart,” Trace told her, and she could see in his eyes how worried he was about her.

“Mia and Ford can fill you in on most of it,” She told him as she reluctantly left his embrace. “I’ll fill in any gaps soon enough.”

“I love you.” He told her, almost desperately, and Anaisa smiled reassuringly.

“And I love you enough to cross the unknown world to get you home to me again.”

With that, she made her way quickly to the stairs, grateful that the emperor seemed to be a heavy sleeper. When she passed Denholm, she couldn’t resist lifting her chin slightly with disdain.

Her distant cousin should have been executed for his crimes years ago. The fact that he was alive now was a crime against her kingdom and her personal sense of justice.

She would loathe him, if she cared enough to spend that much emotional energy on him. Although, the way he had treated Ford just now did make her blood temperature rise a fair amount.

Maybe a good shove could send him off the edge of the bed? Probably wouldn’t kill him, perhaps break a few bones…

The thought brought a slight smile to her face, but she couldn’t risk the wights’ ire just now. There was work to be done.

Quickly, she descended the stairs and followed the mesmerizing creature’s progress through the castle. They wound through black hallways both large and small, up stairs, and across a bridge into another tower of the obsidian edifice.

“How far is it we’re headed?” She asked, a bit tiredly. “How am I to send the message? A letter? Some magic… communication-thing?”

The wight didn’t even look back, and Anaisa had no choice but to continue after it.

“I’d love the chance to clean up after we’re done,” She resorted to inane chatter to calm her nerves, making the genuine request. She hadn’t given a thought to her state or appearance since leaving her son behind days ago. Ford, Mia, Grandpa, and Martin… none of them cared a bit how she looked. Being put together had been mostly a show for her son to make him believe she was confident about getting Trace back.

But now, if the chance presented itself, the chance to freshen up before seeing her husband again–redoing her hair and fixing what she could of her appearance–was very appealing.

Anaisa was sure he’d been too surprised and happy about her arrival to care what she looked like, but now that he was getting used to the idea that she was really here… well, it couldn’t hurt to look as pretty as she could for him.

If that was convenient. She frowned at herself. Why was she thinking about looking pretty for her husband when she should be concentrating on talking King Harold out of starting a war!

Shaking her head a little, Anaisa glanced around. The bridge was wide enough for three people to walk comfortably side by side, but for the fact that it had no safety railing. Fighting a touch of vertigo over the very long way down to the cave floor below, she turned forward to ask the wight again where exactly she was being led and what she was to do.

But instead, the air left her lungs in a whoosh as talons closed around her middle.