Another shiver seized her.
“Do not let what I said bother you. I am not proud of the deaths that occurred. I believed they were unavoidable, but they were never wanted.” He pulled back and in a flash procured a glimmering honey-colored shawl that smelled deliciously sweet and felt as soft as butter. He settled it around her shoulders. “I have news, though I debated whether or not to say anything. I believe Dylan is trying to find you.”
Her heart lightened instantly until she noticed the sensation of something wet and uncomfortable clinging to her skin, a sensation that had steadily been climbing. She swallowed and splayed her fingers against her collarbone as if to protect it. The boy was almost done. She could feel the cocoon settling around her neck. She refused to give in to the fear that threatened to consume her and forced a smile to her lips. “What else did the pux tell you?”
Baun took her hand, his countenance suddenly somber. “Teag is suffering. If only they would release me. The chains that bind me in my cell dampen my nature, but as king, my power is nearly unlimited. If I were free, I would return the dark souls to where I sent them and bring peace.” He closed his eyes and took a deep, heartfelt breath. “Peace. It is what I crave not just for myself, but for my people.”
She knew he could do what he claimed. She’d felt his power herself. Had marveled at its strength even in his weakened state. “Does Dylan have the same power as you?”
He tucked her arm within the crook of his and escorted her on a stroll around the dance floor. Leaning close, he said, “Yes and no. As of yet, Dylan doesn’t have the power I do. Only when he is king will it transfer from me to him. Yet he is my heir. The moment he stepped into Teag, he took on the obligation of reigning in my absence. It is his birthright. His duty.”
She twirled a fluted glass between her fingers and thought of how the council had marked Dylan for death without ever having met him. “They refused him. Tried to kill him.”
“But he is still alive.” She heard the pride in Baun’s voice and noticed how animated he became when he talked of Dylan. He tightened his fist in front of him. “He must take the throne. Hesitance is seen as a sign of weakness.”
Baun was anything but weak. Surely he could help her. Her time was nearly up. She had to dare the question, not as a wish, but as a possibility.
“Is there nothing you can do to—” She broke eye contact, realizing she treaded in uneasy waters. This was the Lost King. He had, by his own admission, unlimited power when he was not chained. She felt guilty for what she was about to ask when so many more needed him, but she was desperate and he had been so kind, so unlike what everyone had led her to believe. She swallowed and forced the words out. “…nothing you can do to help me escape?”
“I—” His lips tightened and his open manner grew grim. The lights dimmed even more and the people faded into the edges of the dream, leaving them suddenly alone beneath the glimmering chandelier. “There is one thing…but…it is never done.”
“What is it?”
He looked away, clearly uncomfortable, but she pressed him. “Please. I am dying.”
He pulled away. “I know.”
He paced in front of her, his frown deep and brooding. He started to tell her several times, but swallowed back the words, until he stopped and swung to face her. “I can force myself into people’s minds, embed ideas, but it is forbidden. It controls people beyond a vow of loyalty, and if I use it, I can and will be put to death.”
Death. Why must every turn lead to death?
The ceiling crumbled away as she sank to the floor. She didn’t care when the marble beneath her gave way to grass. She stared woodenly ahead like a lost and unloved doll thrown into a darkened corner.
He shook his head and sat on the ground beside her. A king, brought to his knees by her pitiable state. “I am weak. I have been beaten down these many years until there is no fire left in me.”
“That is not true,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve seen it grow with every one of our visits. It gave me hope. I thought maybe…”
It didn’t matter. Her time was at an end. He had tried so hard to make her last moments beautiful and she was ruining it.
She was about as terrified as she’d ever been. Her life was painstakingly being wrapped inside a slowly hardening shell where she would eventually die. Alone. Her memories siphoned for the enjoyment of some creature.
“You are sad and it is my fault.” The muscles in his jaw tightened. “I wish I could explain. My feelings are complicated in the matter. I want to help you, but doing so will—”
“You will instantly be put to death.” She found a four-leaf clover nestled against the rough edge of the marble floor and held it out to him. “My life is over, and your life will go on.” She pressed the clover in his hand. “It is not your fault.”
“All we need is luck.” He touched the delicate green leaves with his finger. “I could…”
She waited for him to continue. Her breath suspended painfully in her chest.
He stood, walked a few steps away, then turned back. “I could help you do it, give you power to implant an idea, but it would have to be someone who needed you. Loved you. It’s too risky otherwise.”
She held out her hand and he helped her to her feet. “My father.”
“Yes.” He nodded slowly, almost hesitantly, a spark of hope springing to his face. “He has the power and ability to do much.”
“He has nothing like your power. In fact, there is really only one person who can save me.” She stared straight into his eyes. They were so warm. How could people ever call him a monster? “You.”
His face, with all the hope he’d been feeling, fell. “And to do so, I must be free.” He shook his head. “It will never work. Your father will never agree to free me. This I know.”
She clasped his hands in hers. “Never say that. I will make him do it, and when I am done, he will think freeing you is the best idea he has ever had, because it will be. You will help me, Teag, Dylan…everyone.”
He pulled away, and for a moment she thought she saw a flash of guilt. “This is not an easy endeavor. It comes with risks.”
“You are giving me a chance at life. The only chance I have left.”
He took a ragged breath and let it out. “You are sure this is what you want?”
“Is there another way?”
He shook his head.
“Then I am prepared to take the risk.”
Taking her hand, he directed her to lie down on the patch of earth within the shiny marble ballroom. As soon as she was settled, forget-me-nots sprang up around her. “So that the memory of you will be strong, and that I may never forget you.”
He went to a nearby marble column etched with flowers and pulled life from the rock, returning with a cluster of bleeding hearts. He wrapped her fingers around the long stems. “So that your father will remember you are his pride and joy and that his heart will never be whole without you.”
Before he could pull away, she grabbed his hand. Her fingers suddenly cold within his. “If nothing comes of this, please remember me fondly.”
He cupped her cheek, sweeping at a tear clinging to her lower lashes. “Oh, my sweet girl. You, I will never forget. Not as long as I live. You have brought joy, brought life back to my battered soul.”
She smiled and let go, but he didn’t rise, and the lines at the corner of his eyes deepened. “The power I am about to bestow on you is wild. Frightening. Do not let it go. Hold on tight and exert your will over it. I have faith you can do this.”
Baun stepped away, and as soon as he did, a cold mist slipped along the floor, cracking the marble and frosting the blades of grass around her. The flowers quickly disappeared beneath an icy sheath. Kera shivered as the mist wound its way around her. Her breath turned to puffs of white that escaped her mouth faster and faster. The cold mist clung to her, encasing her skin in a cocoon as real as the one the boy in the cave was making.