The Hidden Crystal

Chapter 25

Iris. Not safe. Wake up. Iris.

"Go away," she mumbled in her sleep, rolling over as if that was enough to make the whispers stop.

Shh. Don't listen to them. You're safe here, Iris.

The voice emerged from among the whispers, just another one of them, saying different words. A gentle hand caressed her cheek, and she nuzzled into its comforting warmth.

"Char..."

He's safe. You're not. Wake up, Iris.

"I'm trying to sleep..."

Then sleep, Iris. Sweet little Iris.

Fingers combed through her hair, their motion rhythmic and soothing.

"Mm..."

Iris, take the amulet. You're not safe. Hold the amulet!

"I don't want it..."

This?

The chain tensed slightly around her neck as the amulet was picked up.

Iris! Iris, wake up!

"Leave me alone," she moaned, burying her face in the pillow.

You are alone, Iris.

Warm breath tickled her ear, followed by a deep chuckle.

Alone and isolated. Just the way I want you.

"Mm..." She furrowed her brow, the low threat working its way through her subconscious, where the whispers were screaming at her.

Iris! Wake up! Iris!

Sleep, Iris.

That voice was softer, and somehow stronger. It overwhelmed the whispers and drove them out of her mind.

Sleep.

A hand pressed the amulet to her chest, leaving it there to caress her cheek again.

Sweet little Iris.

There were no more whispers, no more voices, just a deep darkness.

Morning came. Bright light flooded the room as the fairies tied the bed curtains back, opened the window drapes, and lit the wall sconces. Iris groaned and sat up, holding her head. It was pounding so hard she could barely see. The fairies were tugging at her sleeve, pulling her over to the dressing screen, and the motion made her stomach flip. She made it just in time to vomit into the chamberpot. The smell made her retch again, dry heaving until her stomach hurt and her throat burned. She sat back on her heels, holding her stomach and rocking back and forth. Cool, damp cloth brushed her lips clean and wiped the sweat from her forehead.

"What's going on?" she whimpered.

The knock at the door felt like a stab to her brain. She crumpled to the floor, holding her hands over her ears. The latch clicked.

"Iris? Iris!"

Jonah's frantic voice echoed in her head. His hands were on her arms, pulling her to her feet. She leaned against him as he led her back to the bed.

"Iris, what's wrong?" he asked, sitting beside her.

"I don't know," she whispered.

He was stroking her hair, holding her against his shoulder, and the feeling triggered something. Foggy memories from the night before began to float to the surface, and she stiffened.