Page 42 of Cursed By the Dawn

A group of dreamers were giving us tentative, hopeful smiles.

“Look at them. They believe in us,” I said, unable to help smilingback. I tipped my head, feeling the truth of what I was about to say settle comfortably in my chest. “I think I believe in us, too.”

“Look at us now,” he murmured playfully, a smile tugging at his lips. He gave my hand a firm squeeze as he threaded his fingers through mine. Warmth bloomed in my chest at the gesture. “Shadow Weavers truly using our darkness for good. What else might we be capable of?”

We remained with our dreamers, eager to begin, until the Weavers arrived.

Let’s show them our might.

The second test was a trial of restraint.

We stood on a floating circular platform, jostling into one another as we avoided the edge. Flames, forming inside the abyss below the platform, licked the sides, desperate to taste us. Fenrir and Nephthys, holding hands before us on a small dais, were granted just enough control to command the illusion. The remaining Weavers floated behind them, eagerly watching.

“Dreamers,” Nephthys announced coolly, blue hair cascading down her arms. She wore sapphire bracelets, pearl epaulettes, and a gown that dipped in strategic places, revealing glimpses of her flawless deep bronze skin. Seashells, crushed into thin shards, covered her dress, reminding me of stained glass. “You will soon learn what it is to experience the combined might of water and fire. It will be overwhelming, but you must restrain yourselves to achieve a specific goal.”

Fenrir, garbed in silky robes the color of blood, straightened. The fabric hung loosely from his powerful frame, revealing his bare shoulders and tattoos. A few rubies, burning with an internal fire caught within the stones, marked various points within the inky designs.

“Outside of the Dream Realm, fire dances at the water’s edge; the most fearsome flames are quenched by the water’s cool embrace,” Fenrir said. A few flames burst from his fingers, but they were instantlydoused by a wave of Nephthys’s hand. His lips chased the steam, landing on Nephthys’s neck in a smokinghiss. He grinned, eyes sparkling as if he’d expected this effect. “That will not be possible in this trial, however. You are also not allowed to fly—with wings or otherwise.”

Nephthys gave Fenrir a fleeting look so full of longing that my own face grew warm. “Master your composure, dreamers, even when challenged with fear or desire. Any individual lapse in judgment will endanger the entire group. You must work as a team. Together.”

“Good luck, dreamers,” Fenrir intoned flatly, lip curling as he looked down at Erebus and me. “And to you, Shadow Weavers. You will need it.”

Thatdidn’t sound promising.

The platform beneath our feet began to violently shake, sending several dreamers sprawling on their hands and knees. A dreamer near me tripped, slamming her forehead into the elbow of another. Blood streamed down her chin as she struggled to stand. Sorren, already irritated, scowled as a dreamer stepped on his cloak. It was an exquisite piece, lined with feathers and silver embroidery, but it was also quite distracting.

“I knew I shouldn’t have bothered with this,” he grumbled, making it disappear with a wave of his hand.

Ceveon snorted. “At least you look like one of us now. Albeit less fashionable.”

“Mm,” Sorren grumbled, twisting one of his many silver rings. For this trial, he had decided to wear them over a pair of skin-tight leather gloves. “Yes, we all match now. How quaint.”

The platform’s edge suddenly began to crumble, forcing us to stand uncomfortably close to one another. By now, the fire was nearly to our necks; I flinched as a lick of heat, bright and dangerous, came within inches of my collarbone. Erebus drew a protective arm across my shoulders, switching our positions. If the flames dared to touch me again, he’d be in the way.

“Do you want to catch fire?” I snapped, trying to twist out of his arms. “You’re putting yourself at risk.”

“You heard Nephthys. We must work as a team,” he said, nonchalantly lowering his mouth to my ear. His cool breath tickled my neck. “Here I am, working as a team.”

“This isn’t t-teamwork,” I stammered. I tried again to slip from his grasp, but his hold only tightened. The heat was pressing in, our shadows flickering wildly against the inferno. The other dreamers were condensing inward, fleeing from the edge. “This is stupidity. You’re going to get hurt.”

“Protecting you is not stupidity.”

A lick of flame neared us—

—just as I twisted again, accidentally pushing him toward it.

His hairsizzled.

A sharp, acrid scent filled the air. Erebus jerked sideways, smacking at the ends of his locks with a glare, his composure momentarily obliterated. He swore under his breath, shaking out his singed hair. Ceveon and Sorren snorted, then quickly suppressed their laughter.

“I warned you,” I sighed, brushing some soot from his shoulder. “That’s what you get for trying to be a human shield.”

A suddencracksplit the air.

The platform beneath us shuddered. Would it break apart, dropping us into the fire? That hardly seemed like a fair trial, especially since we’d been warned not to use our wings. The dreamers shifted uneasily, nerves threatening to burst. One wrong step and we’d have far worse than burned hair. But just as I feared we’d burn alive in the fiery abyss, the flames ebbed.

And then a new chamber unfurled around us.