Shadows in the Silence
Page 8

 Courtney Allison Moulton

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I caught my breath, staring back at him in surprise. “What?”
Will’s form shattered once more before he returned to normal, almost like a glitch in a computer program. “I asked how you’re doing. Are you okay?”
“I—I’m fine,” I stammered, struggling to gather my senses. “Hanging in there.”
I wanted to ask him about what had just happened to him, what he’d said, but I reminded myself that this was a dream and if there was one thing I knew about dreams it was that they didn’t make a whole lot of sense. But as I contemplated the cryptic words coming from Will that couldn’t possibly belong to him, I began to realize that they made more sense than was first apparent. Was my subconscious taking over here, or was it something entirely else? The serpent, the venom of God…that was Sammael, he who tempted Eve, the giver of life, in the guise of a snake. Had the warning meant Sammael, the incubus, would tempt me? He’d have to just try and kill me, because no way would I touch him. But why would he try to tempt me? Just because he thought he could, or was there a purpose?
Will touched my cheek, pushing my hair back behind my ear and studying the locks between his fingers as he sometimes did. The gesture was so familiar and comforting that I was able to shove away my stirring fears of Sammael. “Your hair…it’s like strands of dying embers that flicker with firelight. My fire goddess. I am cold to your heat.”
I gave him a little smile. “You’re talking like a crazy Martian again.”
He smiled back. “You make me crazy.”
“Right back at you,” I said playfully and kissed his palm before drawing closer to him. I wrapped my arms around his back and he held me tight.
“These are the dreams I wish I always had,” he whispered against my hair. “I don’t want any more of the other dreams where I lose you. They are nightmares and they are memories.”
“Don’t think about them,” I said, and tightened my grip as if he’d float away. “Concentrate on right now, where I’m here and we’re both safe.”
“I can’t help it.” His words were strangled by his shallow breaths. His body tensed against me and I felt his fear so vividly, I could taste it on my tongue like too-ripe citrus. “Your deaths haunt me. I see your face in my nightmares, your blood on the ground and the light dimming in your eyes. The flames flicker out and your embers die.”
I drew away from him and stared into his face as my pulse picked up speed with my growing terror. “Will, don’t talk like that. We’re really not that emo—”
“Every time you fall, I’d gladly take your place,” he said hoarsely. “I pray for my own body to lie there, and He never listens. I pray for you to get back up and you don’t. I close my eyes, but I hear nothing but my own prayers. He has forgotten me.” Will slipped completely out of my arms and moved past me.
“It’s okay, I promise,” I said to his back. “Don’t blame yourself. It’s crippling you.”
Black clouds rolled through the sky, devouring the afternoon light until the landscape was so dark, it seemed as if we were suddenly trapped within a pitch-dark room. I gasped as our forms disappeared into shadow, but as soon as the light went out, a dim glow like moonlight came from an unseen source. All I could see was him and me.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Are you doing this?”
“I can’t stop the nightmares,” he replied absently. “All I can do is fight. It’s all I ever do, but I know nothing else.” His sword shimmered into being, the sudden silver brightness blinding me for a moment.
Then he was swinging. The shapes of lupine reapers materialized in the darkness, black fur glistening in light that seemed to come from nowhere, and I drew my swords on instinct. Trees grew from the ground, sprouting leaves lightning fast. The reapers came from the trees like a plague of rats, snarling and snapping their jaws, and on the other side of Will, I saw me.
In the midst of the swarm of reapers, I—or rather, Will’s mental projection of me—swung the unmistakable Khopesh swords swallowed in white angelfire. My dream self fought effortlessly, sword strokes fluid and well-placed. I’d never seen myself fight before. It was as if the phantom me knew her enemies’ next moves before they occurred, blades meeting flesh, ash and fire billowing toward the forest canopy as one by one the reapers met their deaths by her hand. The glimpses I caught of her face made my breath stop. She was every bit the avenging angel striking down her enemies, her face hardened with determination, and the shadows in her eyes made her seem older. Will matched her every move, but no matter how many enemies they cut down, there were just too many.
She let out a smothered cry of pain and her blood painted the ground.
“No!” Will roared and destroyed the reaper between them with a final swing of silver through flesh. He moved fast, taking hold of my dream self before her knees hit the grass. His sword was gone and she was in his arms, and then they took to the sky in retreat. The sensation of being shot from the ground like a rocket flattened my stomach and I almost lost my balance. Their forms blurred away and reappeared as Will knelt and gently set my dream self on the grass in a quiet grove of trees. She groaned and clutched her chest. Blood steadily leaked from deep, jagged claw marks that ripped through her clothing and skin.
Will frantically pushed her hair away from the wounds and tore off the sleeve from his shirt, revealing his tattooed right arm, and pressed the cloth to her chest. The fabric turned bright red instantly. He murmured fearful things under his breath and cupped her cheek.