Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 415

Chapter 415: Wastrel
Ford watched Denholm with sharp, wary eyes. He didn’t think the man had any reason to betray them just now. He couldn’t escape from the castle; wights were everywhere.

He also couldn’t kill any of them and expect to walk away with no consequences. He was a coward and a snake, but for the moment, the worst he could do was deliver harsh remarks and biting sarcasm.

Unfortunately, Denholm was very well practiced with using words like knives.

He knew just where to aim to get through Ford’s determination to remain calm. And yet, Ford remembered Denholm’s temper from the cave, long before.

He was not immune to the power of words, himself.

Ford chose not to provoke him at the moment. So long as Denholm was silent and doing something at least of nominal use, Ford decided to leave it be.

Mia had apparently decided the same.

“I wonder how long until Aunt Annie returns,” She looked towards the distant door. It remained sitting open, but no one had come through since the wight had left with the redheaded woman.

“Soon, I’m sure. A message can’t take that long to send, and she was very intent on getting back quickly,” Ford assured her.

“It’s a large castle,” Mia said next, looking up at the bed’s canopy, high above them. “I wonder if the Emperor is the only one like him, and if so, how he came to rule these creatures, and what his role is in the world. The fairy tales only mention him… is he an individual? Is this a title passed down, and there have been many before him?”

Ford tilted his head, sharing in her curiosity for a moment.

“Just him. He’s old. Super old. Dreams of things long ago,” Trace threw over his shoulder. Denholm was now standing near the dreamwalker, brow slightly tensed in concentration.

“Why does he rule the wights?” Mia asked him, taking a few steps towards him. Ford followed, throwing a glance at the dead creature and shuddered. It was a gruesome sight, and he’d like to avoid having it impressed upon his memory forever.

Probably too late for that.

“I don’t know. He’s big.” Trace shrugged, not turning towards his niece. “I know some, but like I said before, they’re not very talkative.”

“I wonder how all this came to be. Who built it? Was it magically made, or with mundane things? Who planted the forest? Do the wights care for it? How did a human manage to steal a sapling? How do you even care for one? Obviously they don’t need sunlight, does someone water them?”

“I can’t possibly answer more than one question at a time, Mia,” Her uncle said patiently. “Thankfully, I don’t know the answers to any of your questions, so I don’t have to answer any of them.”

“Well, that simplifies things a little bit,” Mia made a face, but Ford was looking at the pillow upon which the Emperor’s enormous head lay.

“I could probably fit into his ear if I wanted to try,” He muttered idly, causing Mia to burst out with a strange laugh.

“What an odd observation, Ford.”

“I’ve seen mining shafts narrower than that, and had to fit through them,” He defended himself. “You learn to look at places and know whether you can get through or not. Helps keep you from getting trapped.”

“It’s useful, I’m sure,” Mia rushed to take his hand and squeeze it. “I just… never expected you to say that about an ear.”

“I’ll keep my thoughts to myself from now on,” He wrinkled his nose at her, a little embarrassed.

“No, I love hearing your thoughts,” She looked up into his face in earnest. “You never used to give them to me at all.”

Ford pursed his lips slightly, but her perfect blue eyes were impossible to resist for him now. They had always been difficult, but now that he loved her… she could almost do no wrong.

Unless she endangered herself. That would be very wrong indeed.

“Fine,” He conceded with a squeeze of her hand.

She grinned before turning back to her uncle.

“Didn’t Aunt Anaisa want us to tell you the tale of our journey?” Mia asked. “If you’re able to listen, maybe it will pass the time until she returns.”

“Please do,” Trace told her simply. “I’ll absorb what I can, and you can retell it to me later when I’m not utterly exhausted from carrying this nimwit’s weight.”

“Who are you calling a nimwit?” Denholm snapped.

“I can’t imagine who else you think I would be calling that,” Trace said patiently. “But if you need me to explain things to you slowly, I can probably take the time to do so.”

“Have I told you today how deeply I despise you?” Denholm said, his voice serious and cold.

“Only a few times. Think of it as training to control your temper,” Trace mocked. Ford shook his head. Was Trace ramping up the antagonism of his counterpart because there seemed to be an end in sight, or had they been like this the entire time?

Spending time hiding from giant magical crocodiles seemed preferable to being alone with Denholm for endless hours, verbally sparring.

“Please save me from this imbecile’s grating voice and tell us the story, Mia.” Denholm invited coldly. “I’d give half my due fortune to never hear his haughty barbs ever again.”

“You have no fortune,” Ford blinked.

“I should have a kingdom, but that’s rather beside the point. I don’t want to hear a word out of you either at the moment, loathsome fatherless wastrel,” Denholm seemed to have lost his good humor rather quickly, but regained it like the flip of a switch. “Come, Mia, tell us the grand tale of your exploits to save me from this terrible place. I do so love hearing about how much you care for me, coming on such an arduous journey to assure yourself of my safety.”

Ford tensed, but Mia looped her arm through his and squeezed it gently.

“I’m not really sure where to pick up. I guess, I’ll start from the time the dragons took the two of you from the cave…”