Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 417

Chapter 417: Storytime
Ford suppressed a yawn as Mia concluded her version of the tales and exploits they had been through these past weeks.

It was something else, something surreal, to hear it retold, but he was exhausted. What time was it? Inside these walls, underneath who knew how much mountain, he’d lost all track of time.

His stomach growled, but he ignored it.

“Then Ford turned me invisible, and that’s when we decided that going around the mountain, with all those awful birds, was a terrible idea. We barely escaped, and if Ford hadn’t pushed me out of the way, it would have snatched me up and carried me off!”

Ford tried to act nonchalant. Mia had tastefully edited the story she’d told her grandfather so long ago about the very first leg of their adventure, surely she wouldn’t—

“I’m sure he pushed you out of the way very thoroughly,” Denholm hadn’t interrupted Mia’s tale thus far, but the aggravating man seemed to know exactly where to hit for maximum irritation.

“So Martin had carved a path through the mountain, only it wasn’t large enough for the horses to get through, so we left them behind with Papa and Daniel in a cave to keep them safe for the ride home–” Mia continued, seemingly unfazed, though Ford could see the color rise slightly in her cheeks.

“I noticed you didn’t deny it,” Denholm interjected again, throwing a look over his shoulder. “It must have been a rather steamy interlude, from the blush I see.”

Ford clenched a fist, ready to resume their fight from earlier and wipe the smirk off Denholm’s obnoxious face, but a gag appeared out of thin air and tied itself tightly between the man’s teeth.

Trace swayed.

“Uncle Trace!” Mia stepped forward to support him, and Ford followed her example. “Don’t overdo it! You’re needed and you can’t stretch yourself this way!”

“I’ll be alright,” Trace told her, “I just need to rest for a while. I’m relieved that Daniel is safe with Seth in a cave and not any closer than that.”

“Can you rest?” Ford asked curiously, but then frowned. It had been weeks. Of course Trace had rested at some point!

“I can guard his dreams just as easily in my sleep as when I’m awake. My mind will break eventually, but at least my body will slowly recover,” Trace shook his head tiredly.

“Let me help… where is the best place?” Mia looked around, and Ford grimaced.

A swath of the coverlet was soaked in the blood of the creature they’d killed, spilling over the edge and sliding to the floor.

The slow drip-drip of blood onto the stone was as rhythmic as it was disconcerting.

“Will the wights clean that up, or is that something we’ll have to do?” He hated the idea of redirecting all his questions to Denholm once Trace was asleep.

Although compared to the Emperor’s bulk, the blood spot was relatively small, it was still very large for the humans.

“Just leave it for now,” Trace waved one hand. “I don’t care. Nothing much can bother me after being in his mind, in his dreams, all this time.”

Ford’s eyes darkened. If this was a toned-down version of what Trace had seen and dealt with, what must the worst things have been? What must the man have gone through in the weeks since his kidnapping?

“You sleep, then, and we’ll keep a watch out here for anything that escapes,” Mia told him gently, with a sharp look at Denholm, who was pulling the gag from his mouth.

“I suppose you’re not going to give me the same courtesy, since I don’t possess the talent of working in my sleep like industrious Trace,” He curled his upper lip with distaste.

“You’ll be fine,” Mia narrowed her eyes.

“I’m always far more than that,” Denholm flashed a daring smile that made Ford’s stomach turn.

“Wake me if I’m needed,” Trace yawned as he stretched out on the coverlet. “But only in an emergency. It’s rather jarring to be woken before I’m ready.”

“Yes, Sir,” Mia nodded firmly, but Trace pushed up on one elbow to look at her very seriously.

“I want to be clear, Mia. Anaisa’s return warrants waking me up. Anaisa failing to return warrants waking me up. Do you understand?”

Ford blinked. “We’re supposed to wake you when she returns or when she doesn’t?”

“I’d rather stay awake to just handle it myself and decide when to become outraged and panicked, but I can barely keep my eyes open,” Trace stared steadily at the younger man. “She can be talkative, and the king might take some convincing… but if there is any reason to worry, I want to be worrying too.”

“Get some rest. You want to be as well rested as you can be when she gets back,” Mia failed to make the expected promise, but Trace seemed to only have the energy for one final glare at his niece before his head lolled onto the bed and he promptly lost consciousness.

“Poor Uncle Trace,” Mia murmured. “I imagine he’s getting worse the more he uses his magic. He looks ten years older already.”

Ford frowned. “A nice bath and a shave will probably help a lot with that. I’m sure he’ll be fine once he’s back home.”

He knew Mia’s propensity for taking all the blame on herself, and wanted to head it off as best he could. She reluctantly nodded, then sank to the coverlet with a sigh.

Ford moved to sit beside her, with Denholm in easy view, and Trace within their peripheral vision.

It would be odd to just stare at a sleeping man, but it seemed worse to take their eyes off of him entirely. What if something should go wrong in the dream? Would their aid be of any help in such a situation?

A strangled gasp made the two young people bolt to their feet in alarm, ready to do battle once more.