Chapter Nineteen WITCHING MOON

Chapter Nineteen

WITCHING MOON

Week Two, Day Eight

Year 3000

Zanya dreamt of Sachi.

It wasn't surprising. It had been several nights since Sachi had visited their dreams and told them she wasn't coming back. Every time Zanya closed her eyes, she whispered a prayer to the Everlasting Dream— let me see her .

Perhaps the Dream didn't answer prayers sent aloft by the manifestation of the Endless Void. Or perhaps her own gift of nightmares had taken control. Sachi appeared in the darkness each night, but it wasn't Sachi .

Every night, Zanya raced through dark mazes, chasing the scent of Witchwood roses. She caught glimpses of golden hair swirling through the mist. Sachi's voice called out to her, but no matter how fast Zanya ran, she could never find the source. It was as if Sachi were trapped behind whatever wall had barred Zanya from the Empire, and even her own mind couldn't conjure a gentle dream that bridged the gap.

So when Sachi finally appeared before her, Zanya braced herself for another agonizing night spent chasing a specter she could never catch.

"Zan." Nervous fingers curled into the image's gauzy white nightgown. "It's good to see you."

Zanya's heart leapt. "Sachi?" She took a step forward, then another. The figure didn't vanish into smoke. "Is it really you?"

She nodded, her breathing unsteady. "I—I thought I should check in."

Zanya lunged, dragging her lover close. "Tell me you're okay. If you need us to come—"

"I'm fine," Sachi whispered. "I just ..."

The words were a lie, but if Zanya pressed, then Sachi would only be forced to fight two battles—whatever fight she'd left behind that had her looking so pale and drawn, and the fight to keep Zanya from overriding her will. So she choked back the need to save Sachi and simply held her. "It's hard. What you do is so hard."

"It's a softer life than most." But Sachi's voice broke on the last word.

Suddenly Ash was there in the darkness, spinning wildly until his gaze landed on them. "Sachi!"

He was at their side in a heartbeat, his chest pressed to Sachi's back as he wrapped his arms around them. He buried his face in Sachi's hair and dragged in a shuddering breath. "Thank you."

Sachi grasped his arm, clung to them both until her breathing began to even out and her trembling stilled. All the while, she whispered over and over that everything was fine, and that she was okay.

It could have been days, but it felt like mere moments until she pulled back. "I brought news. I think I have an ally in the Empire."

Zanya twined her fingers with Sachi's, refusing to let her go. "Who?"

"One of the gods who helps rule Sorin's kingdoms. Her name is Gwynira."

Ash's brow furrowed. "Did you get a sense of how strong she is? Or what her powers are?"

She shook her head. "They call her the Ice Queen. I don't know how literal that is, but I suspect very." She held out her hand. "She gave me this."

A dagger materialized on her palm, painfully simple in design, but redolent with magic .

Ash reached for it but froze with his fingers hovering above it. "That feels like ..."

"Like me," Zanya whispered. She reached out to slide a finger over the flat of the blade, admiring the intricate pattern that must have come from folding the steel many times. But there were dark streaks and pale ones, starlight and the vast blackness that contained it. "It's of the Void. And the Dream?"

Ash's expression tightened. "Be careful, Sachi. The Betrayer would be furious if he knew you had such a thing. He hates the Void and anything touched by it."

"I know. It's well-hidden." Her jaw clenched. "But now I'm armed, and that's something, isn't it?"

Zanya laid her free hand over Sachi's, curling around the hilt. She hated the idea of Sachi being forced to defend herself, but she would not express doubt. Not again. She was through with making Sachi smaller. "And you know exactly how to use it if you must. Don't hesitate."

"When the time is right," Sachi agreed, and the dagger dissipated. "I've learned more."

She told them about the layout of the Empire, the vast cities she'd spied from the air. About the landscape surrounding the Empress's Palace, and the location's fortifications and troop numbers. She told them about the gods she'd met, every last one, and what she knew or suspected of them. She told them everything .

But she said nothing of the Betrayer.

She likely meant to spare Ash—gods knew the reminder that his ancient enemy held Sachi captive was weighing him down with a millennium's worth of guilt—but Zanya couldn't dispel the memory of Sachi's shaking hands and nervous eyes.

She was trapped in the heart of the Betrayer's Empire, bound as his future Empress, no doubt being forced to play the part in ways that Zanya didn't want to imagine. But she could imagine them, because she'd spent her life doing it. She'd just been imagining the Dragon as Sachi's cruel captor.

Ash had no such practice, no emotional armor. If Sachi wanted to spare him, Zanya wouldn't press.

Instead, she leaned her forehead against Sachi's temple and sighed. "I miss you."

"I know, my love." Sachi's breath stirred Zanya's hair. "But it won't be much longer."

"The castle isn't the same without you," Ash rumbled. "Camlia's in the worst mood. You're the only sensible person she's had to talk to in decades. If you don't come back, she'll never forgive me for losing you."

Sachi turned, cupped Ash's face in both her hands, and stared silently up at him. He covered her hands with his, his thumbs stroking her fingers, and Zanya ached for how lost he looked in that moment as he lowered his forehead to touch hers. "You're my heart, Sachielle. Take care of my heart."

"You have the bigger responsibility," she murmured against his lips. "My heart and Zanya's. Keep them safe for me, Ash."

Zanya huffed and swept Sachi's hair aside so she could brush a kiss to the spot beneath her ear. "Don't you trust me with my own heart?"

"No." Sachi tilted her head with a breathy noise of pleasure. "But only because it's ours now."

Ash rumbled as his lips drifted to Sachi's ear. "Maybe Zanya will let me cuddle her."

"If she does, I hope you're very sweet to her." Sachi's fingers curled, her nails scratching over Ash's cheek. "As sweet as I would be."

Heat flooded Zanya's cheeks, but Sachi's obvious delight made it hard to be too self-conscious, even if she still struggled with the idea of anyone other than Sachi seeing her vulnerable. She nuzzled Sachi's neck and closed her eyes, inhaling the scent of roses that somehow persisted even here, in her dreams. "He's not as soft as you."

"No, he isn't." Sachi laughed quietly, then sighed. "I will do everything in my power to come back to you. Everything. I promise."

It wasn't quite an ironclad reassurance, but it was a start. "We need you," Zanya whispered. "But we're not the only ones. You have to come back for all of us. The Siren may have thwarted the regents by stopping their travel by water, but it's only a matter of time until they start moving overland. We need you to deal with the Mortal Court."

"No, you don't," Sachi said firmly. "If I'm not there and it needs to be done, then you can do it, Zanya."

"What?" Zanya shook her head in immediate rejection. "No, even the ones who don't think I'm an assassin remember me as a maid. They'll never listen to me."

"You watched those people for just as long as I did. You know how their court functions." Sachi's encouraging smile glowed with literal light. "All you have to do is tell the truth, Zan. You're so good at that, you always have been."

It was hard to cling to her denials with Sachi gazing up at her with such naked, uncompromising faith . And then Ash made it worse by stroking Sachi's hair with a fond smile. "I thought you told me we're supposed to listen to the expert, Zanya."

"Just remember who you are, and make them hear you." Sachi touched Zanya's lower lip. "Tell Inga and Elevia that it's time. They'll know what it means."

Zanya opened her mouth to say she wanted to know what it meant, but Ash was already moving on. "I'd go with her, if I could. But I suspect my presence would cause more issues than it solved."

"Send Aleksi. No matter what, half the court is still in love with him." Sachi stretched up on her tiptoes and kissed Zanya. Once, twice, lingering the third time. "Be careful. It's no less dangerous in its own way than where I am right now. Never forget that."

Zanya sank her fingers into Sachi's hair and held her still for another, deeper kiss. "I never do," she promised against her lover's lips. "But I'm not promising to leave all of the regents alive."

"You'll do what you must. Isn't that what you always tell me?"

"It's easier to give the advice than to take it," Zanya retorted. It was so hard not to press closer to Sachi, to wrap an arm around her waist as if she could make this dream real . Perhaps, if she refused to let go, then the sheer, desperate craving that curled through her would perform whatever magic was required to pull Sachi back, and Zanya could wake with her in her arms.

Sachi's voice echoed around her, filling the darkness and whispering in Zanya's ears. "Tell me what you need."

"Stay," Zanya whispered back, closing her eyes as she buried her face in that silken, glorious hair. Ash was there, too, his arms around them both, and Zanya locked the feeling in her memory, even if it was as hazy as a dream. "For as long as you can. Let us hold you."

Sachi's lips grazed her cheek, then her jaw, soft as a promise. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Good." It was Ash, his voice a low rumble that came from everywhere and nowhere. The dream was twisting, becoming less solid, but Sachi stayed firm in Zanya's clutching arms as Ash went on. "What do you need, Sachi?"

"Tell us a story," she answered, dreamy and low. "Something from when you were a boy."

A chuckle curled around them like a warm embrace. "So long ago. I'm sure you know I was a terribly behaved lad. You have spoken with my grandmother, after all. And I was always fascinated with what lay deep beneath the earth. There were some caves in the hills near our village ..."

Ash's words faded into a murmur, their meaning slipping past Zanya's sleepy brain. She focused on the body snuggled tight against hers, resting one hand on Sachi's chest, where her heart beat even in the Dream. Steady. Strong. Proof that she lived. The warm skin beneath her fingertips begged to be stroked, just as the cheek beneath her lips needed to be kissed.

She clung to Sachi, floating on the Dragon's words, never noticing when she slipped back into her own dreams. Because Sachi was still there, warm in her arms, a promise left behind by the woman whose heart was the Dream. There were no nightmares to chase Zanya through endless corridors, no shadows to steal this feeling away.

There was Sachi, and warmth, and the scent of Witchwood roses, and peace.