Page 6 of Cursed By the Dawn

Erebus’s claw-tipped hand found mine, giving it a firm squeeze.

He’s just as uncomfortable as I am, I realized.

Our palms, covered by thin leather instead of the brutal metal that protected the rest of our bodies, met easily, just as a thread of shadow slid around my shoulder, caressing the nape of my neck. I wasn’t sureif the shadow was from Erebus, myself, or our shared power made sentient, somehow. Perhaps it didn’t even matter.

I squared my shoulders.

A wicked king and queen who can perhaps use their darkness for good.

But how?

“Yes. Weavers,” Somnus, Weaver of the Past, answered, black eyes glittering in amusement. “Lord Erebus and Lady Esmer, Shadow Weavers of the Dream Realm. The Seven owe you a warm welcome.”

“Is this some twisted farce?” Erebus asked. Where Somnus had spoken with triumph, eager to declare us Shadow Weavers, Erebus’s question dripped with violence. His eyes were silver blades, eager for Somnus-shaped prey. “Esmer, the rest of these innocent dreamers, and I are finally free,” he continued, enraged. “We are not about to crawl back into one of your cages.”

Somnus muttered under his breath, “With that attitude, your welcome will be lukewarm. Perhaps even cold.”

I’d grown up reading tales of the immortal beings who ruled over the Dream Realm. The seven Weavers had trained legions of talented dreamers, gifted humanity with prophetic visions from the Maker, and fought valiantly against the darkness that threatened to consume both the Kingdom of Noctis and the Dream Realm.

But the demons had won.

For five centuries it was assumed the Weavers were either in hiding or had perished under the demons’ might. Their physical bodies, along with their manifested dream selves, had not been seen since the dawn of Corruption. Only Mithras the Light Bringer, the holy sovereign of Noctis, kept the kingdom in balance, granting his people the gift of elixir to ward off both dreams and Corruption. But over time, Corruption had worsened. The elixir had grown scarce. And after Mithras had accused me of allying with Erebus, he’d left me for dead in the Tomb of the Devourer. But not before slaughtering his own legionnaires in a brutal surprise, all to keep the tomb’s location a secret.

And then he took Elliot.

A lump formed in my throat as I remembered the last time I’d seenmy brother. His scrawny body had looked like a rag doll in Silas’s arms, brown curls falling messily over his face as Mithras’s trusted Light Legionnaire prepared to take him away. He’d looked younger than ten years old, so helpless and strange without light in his eyes. Heneededme, and yet I was still stuck in a dream, unable to reach him in reality. I’d thought freeing myself from Erebus’s castle would bring me closer to saving him, not further away. But so much was still out of my control.

Wait for me, Elliot. Please.

“I’d counter that the Seven owe us more than a paltry welcome. An apology, for one,” Ceveon said with a bitter laugh. “Therewasthe minor inconvenience of us being trapped in the bodies of demons and all.”

Ceveon stood as tall as he could manage, but it was clear he was still getting used to his new body. Even though he no longer looked like a demon, there was something in the way he held himself that was reminiscent of his monstrous form.

Still, he was strikingly handsome. Both of Erebus’s comrades were.

Ceveon was all strong, magnetic energy. A scar split the light brown skin of his nose and wrapped around his face to where it hid underneath waves of caramel-brown hair. His green eyes were in stark contrast to Sorren’s, which were a piercing ice blue. Sorren stood in Ceveon’s shadow, his pale, angular face perpetually scowling. I noted he was adorned in ornate silver earrings and silver rings. Every piece felt sharp and calculated—a dagger under his smooth black hair, a snake over his thumb, a thorned tendril across his throat. Ceveon wore jewelry, too, but his was more subtle: A silver band around a wrist. A silver buckle across a boot. No longer clad in demon fur and ragged clothes, they both appeared as two young knights in their prime.

They were Erebus’s truest allies. His friends from another life.

And they still burned with loyalty, even after centuries trapped inside demonic bodies. It was admirable—selfless, even—and I wondered if I’d act the same. If I could muster such determination after being caged for so long.

“For five entire centuries,” Sorren added, lip curling. “The Weavers should have intervened.”

“And why would we ever deign to lift a finger in your direction?” Somnus asked, his tone incredulous. He tilted his head back in thought, black hair falling like a curtain across his shoulder. “After we banished Erebus, his domain was perpetually locked away from the world and haunted by scores of demons. We thought we were doing our part by keeping the Dream Realm safe from a demon king.” At Erebus’s murderous glare, Somnus added, “Presumeddemon king. As for a warm—or lukewarm—welcome and an apology, petulance will get you neither.”

If Erebus weren’t holding my hand, he’d surely be strangling Somnus’s pale throat. I found myself growing similarly frustrated, fingers tightening around his. “I know better than to take you at your word. If Esmer and I were Shadow Weavers, there would be signs.”

“Signs? Do you need the Maker Himself to break free from the heavens to anoint you?”

As a matter of fact, yes.

“Actually, that would be quite reasonable,” Sorren snapped, mirroring my thoughts and making me like him even more.

Somnus sighed, impatient. “If you all refuse to believe my word, then believe in your actions. Banish me from your domain, Shadow Weavers. It would excite me to see you try.” He waved a thin, skeletal hand, a dismissive gesture meant to both antagonize us and remind us that dreamers were watching. Hundreds of dreamers, newly freed from their demonic bodies. They likely wanted to see proof of our worthiness, too. “Go on. I shall survive.”

“Banish him? What is he talking about?” I whispered to Erebus.

He let loose a tense breath. “If we are indeed Weavers in control of this pocket of the Dream Realm, then hypothetically we should be able to do something to remove him.”