Eight of Hearts: The Vision - Book 2

Chapter 3

It was dark, cold, and worst of all, Flora was lost. Alone, she wandered in an empty wasteland, a landscape devoid of any defining characteristics. She cried out, but the only answer was a steady drum of metal hooves against the ground as she was hunted by metal horrors. Her leaden feet refused to obey, and she was forced to drag them slowly across the ground to keep moving. She glanced behind her and saw them: strange beasts made from metal and flesh melded together. Man fused with machine into four-legged tangles of joints and appendages that shifted form with each step. Each had the face of one of the mercenaries, his face twisted into pain and anger.

She stumbled back and the creatures towered over her, scythed fingers reaching for her as the faces called out in agonized unison: "Kill me!"

Flora sat bolt upright, covered in sweat. Her breath came in ragged gasps as her mind struggled to separate the dream from reality. The sky was dark, but it was still a uniform gray, and the trees they had taken refuge in had shriveled to gaunt shadows. The fire burned low, making it hard to see anything beyond the still sleeping forms of the others around her.

"Nightmare?" a voice asked.

In her panic she hadn't noticed Bryce sitting next to the fire. He stared into the embers, his eyes focusing on something beyond them. He looked even more haunted than she felt.

"Yeah," she said as the adrenaline wore off. "You too?"

Bryce didn't answer. He just pulled his legs up to his chest and hugged them. It was painful to see how small he looked. In her eyes, he had always been untouchable, unreachable. Now he just looked like a lost and frightened child.

Flora carefully stood and swallowed her anxiety as she went to join him by the fire. "What was your nightmare?" she asked, settling on the ground next to him.

Bryce's eye closed, and his face twisted in pain for just a brief moment. "I don't want to talk about it," he finally said.

Flora didn't argue; she understood that feeling well enough. He wasn't ready to share his burden with her; but if her presence could provide any comfort, she would gladly give it.

For a long time they sat silently staring into the flickering flame before them, both sharing each other's company without a word. When Bryce spoke again, his voice was subdued, and his British accent was heavier than usual.

"After everything that we've been through, we'll probably all have nightmares for a while," he said without turning.

"Yeah..." Flora agreed. She worried that the silence that followed would turn awkward, but Bryce was quick to speak again.

"It's been one bloody crisis after another, and there's no end in sight," he said. The bitter words fell like acid to the ground, but his expression softened before they had a chance to settle. "I guess I'm not the only one who had a rough time with it, if Isaac's to be trusted." He turned his head to look at where the white-haired boy lay sprawled awkwardly across the ground, fast asleep. "He was swallowed by a bloody dragon, you know? Though he got to meet Sherlock Holmes too. Wish I'd met a big name like that." He lay on his back and stared thoughtfully into the sky. "Shyla's not too keen to speak to me about what happened. Probably best she doesn't; there's too much going on to worry about stirring up a kerfuffle."

He fell silent again, and Flora allowed the emptiness to wash over them unhindered. She didn't have the words to say to him, and even if she did, it wasn't her place. So she sat beside him in quiet contemplation as the minutes ticked by unnoticed.

"I really..." Bryce started to say, but hesitated. "I really just want to go home." He touched his eyepatch instinctively. "But at the same time, I'm scared; I can't do the things I want with..." he trailed off.