Extrait

He woke gasping, jammed awkwardly between the barrels with his cloak twisted around his shoulders. He couldn’t remember the dream, but a strange and powerful grief had followed him out of whatever it had been. A few nearby sailors were stealing looks at him and he realized he was weeping. Mortified, he hastily wiped his eyes on his sleeve and untangled himself from the barrels and cloak. He gave the sailors a sheepish grin and hurried to Klia’s cabin, uncommonly anxious to see Alec.

His entire party, together with Captain Lira, was there, laughing and drinking. Alec looked up and his smile faded to a look of concern as he saw Seregil hesitating in the doorway.

“What happened to you?” asked Micum, setting aside his wine cup. Soon everyone was staring at him.

“Nothing.” He caught sight of himself in a looking glass above the sideboard; his eyes were red, his face pale except for hectic pots of color in each cheek. “I’ve been out in the wind. Alec, a moment?”

Alec joined him in the companionway and closed the door behind him. As soon as the latch clicked Seregil grabbed him in a rough embrace.

Alec held him a moment, then pulled back to look him in the eye.

“Your heart is pounding. What’s wrong?”

“I think I had another nightmare.” Seregil let out a shaky sigh. “I can’t remember this one, either, except—I think something was happening to you. When I woke up, I couldn’t get here fast enough.”

“I’m worried about you. It’s like after Nysander died.”

“No, it’s not. This feels more like—”

“Like what?”

“Like the dreams I had when we were chasing down Mardus and the Helm.”

“You think they might be prophetic?” Alec asked, frowning. “You haven’t had any of those in ages.”

“I know. And those I could remember. With these it’s simply feelings of panic and fear. And I’m pretty sure they’re about you. I just don’t recall any details.”

Alec embraced him tightly, then guided him back into Klia’s cabin. “You could do with a drink.”