Page 11 of Cursed By the Dawn

I opened my mouth to tell them about the red-eyed demon, but Erebus spoke first. “We should free them,” Erebus said urgently, just to me. “If we cut their threads like we did Somnus’s, we may be able to release their souls to the Maker. It’s the truest liberation we can grant.”

The dreamers’ threads, though invisible to the dreamers themselves, quivered at Erebus’s suggestion. Each thread vibrated with life. Withshadows. If we were to remove our shadows from the threads, they’d likely weaken and snap. I shivered, not liking where this was going. We needed every dreamer—every fighter—we could get.

“They’re hurting, Erebus. Cutting them from our domain won’t heal them in the way you’re imagining.”

“Wouldn’t it?” Erebus mused, mouth set in a grim line. “Then perhaps we give them a choice. They can stay here and fight with us against the demons or return to the Maker. If they stay, they will help us vanquish the demons. But if they choose to leave, they will likely never be able to return to the Dream Realm.”

“They’ll choose to leave, Erebus. Then we’ll have no one.”

He turned fully to me, eyes blazing. “Then what would you have us do, Esmer? Chain them here indefinitely, deny them the freedom they deserve? Just like what happened to me?” He looked away, jaw clenched. “I’m sorry, but we cannot hold them against their will. We would be no better than the Weavers who left me here to rot.”

“The demons will destroy the world if Corruption continues,” I urged, desperate for him to understand. I didn’t want dreamers fighting for us against their will, but we couldn’t afford to lose what might be our only chance at destroying Corruption for good. “Give them a choice but first let them know what is at stake. What it is we must fight. Let me show them.”

“Show them?”

“The demon we saw. I think I can re-create it.”

Erebus slowly nodded, relinquishing control to me.

Very well, then.

He turned to the dreamers, a dark king with the fate of the world on his armored shoulders.

“Since you doubt my intentions and my loyalties, Esmer and I will give you a choice,” he began. “You can choose to remain here, square your shoulders, and fight with us. Help restore the Dream Realm to its former glory and save the Kingdom of Noctis and what remains of its people for generations to come. And we will do what we can to make this place feel…habitable.” He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Or you may choose to leave. We will relinquish your souls for the Maker to determine your fate.”

The dreamers erupted in frenetic, excited murmurings. Ceveon and Sorren, on the other hand, appeared utterly shocked.

“But before you decide, you must witness the enemy we face,” I added. “You asked who it is we should rage against.” I took a steadying breath, mustering my courage for what would come next. “So I will show you.”

Not so long ago, my imagination had freed me from the confines of Erebus’s cell. I had been angry, bitter, and achingly lonely—and that had led me to crave my family so much that my cell transformed into my home in Norhavellis. I had first imagined Chester, Elliot’s stuffed cow. Then a wooden chair Eden had painted with lilacs and daffodils. A simple linen dress. Untamed plants from Mother’s apothecary. And the more I remembered, the more I imagined, the richer the space became.

Surely I could do the same conjuring, but with the memory of the demon instead.

I lowered my eyes, focusing on what I could remember.

Bits of imagery. A guttural voice. A flash of sound.

A skull ringed in horns. Red smoking eyes. A mask of swirling darkness. A hunger for the very fabric of a person’s being: the threads that held their soul together.

“You’re doing it,” Erebus breathed. “Incredible.”

The illusion came together in pieces.

First, a cloud appeared over the castle, growing darker and more ferocious by the second. It burst with erratic curls of lightning, blasts of light so sharp that I flinched. As thunder rumbled from its core, sounding eerily similar to laughter, it took everything in me not to shy away from the horror I was about to unleash.

“Keep going,” he urged. “You’re almost there.”

It was just enough to steady me.

Toinspireme.

A claw-tipped hand parted the storm, followed by a colossal skull. It lurched from the center, red eyes smoking as if set eternally aflame. The demon laughed, a hideous mockery of the sound. It was like the roar of thunder. Overwhelming, endless, and filled with the promise of impending destruction.

Dreamers froze in place, faces twisting in alarm.

“This is the one we must fight. The one that took everything from us,” I announced loudly, voice cracking in disgust. “The one that seeks to rip our world apart.”

The demon’s maw widened, showing rows and rows of sharp fangs. Then it drew back, taking a deep breath, almost as if it was preparing to spit on us. I recoiled, bracing for the worst. But instead of spittle, fire poured from its mouth, falling toward the castle in wide, hissing streams.