The Magician's Witch

Rescue, Party of One

Erik and Eilis remained subdued for a time. Erik held her close, Eilis still curled into his embrace. The lamps burned high except for the one on the nightstand closest to the bed. Eilis had her face half buried in his shoulder; she felt protected here, next to him, as though nothing could touch her while encircled by his arms.

They discussed in halting tones their shared experience of the nightmare they had just come out of. Eilis explained to Erik that for her it was more of a relived memory than a dream.

Erik's fingers curled around hers, interlocking their palms. His thumb drew circles over the base of her thumb and wrist.

"Why do you think your dream varied this time?"

Eilis closed her eyes, considering.

"I don't know. The first time the sequence changed happened the night before I was kidnapped. Azar showed up at the end. It was clearly a warning—either from my own subconscious, or from something outside of myself that knew he was up to no good. And then tonight."

Eilis frowned, opening her eyes. "Normally, the nightmare begins with it already being dark. I hear the crash of glass down below, and me da stomping down the hallway. But this time, it started before that, that evening before we went to bed."

"You were listening to Swan Lake and reading The Hobbit. What is a hobbit?"

Eilis couldn't help smiling at that, despite her concern over her unconscious wanderings. "Remind me to introduce you to J.R.R. Tolkien. And you would like Swan Lake. Tchaikovsky is a Russian composer. Two of his most famous works are that one and The Nutcracker, which is usually played around Christmas. Very dramatic, very tragic in the case of Swan Lake, but beautiful music and beautiful storytelling. But I digress."

Eilis refocused on dissecting her experience. "That beginning sequence of me reading up in my room...that hasn't happened before. How much of that part of the dream did you see?"

Erik thought for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "I started downstairs in the parlor, I believe. I called to you, but I did not see you. I climbed the stairs and came into your bedroom where I found you reading. I said your name, but you did not notice me."

Eilis looked up at him, her face brimming with questions. "I didn't see you," she confirmed. "I only saw you at the end when you faced the demon. You seemed to arrive out of nowhere, like a ghost."

Erik was silent. "In the dream, your mother charged me to take care of you," he said after a long deliberation. "Was that ever a part of your dream before?"

Eilis' brow furrowed deeper. "I don't remember that part. All she did was look out the window for a second before she left."

"She spoke to me, Eilis," Erik insisted. "She looked directly at me. It was odd; up until then, I was merely an observer of the dream. After the demon came up the stairs and tried to get into your room, I became an active participant. I wonder if her command had something to do with that change."

Eilis turned away, staring at the now darkened hearth. "My mother asked you to take care of me."

"It was more of an order than a request," Erik explained.

Eilis was silent a long time. Erik's mind had wandered off, delving deeper into finding reasonable explanations for this situation. When he looked down again, tears were glistening from Eilis' cheeks.

"Mon coeur," he whispered gently.

Eilis sniffed and shook her head, wiping at the wetness. "She must know...wherever she is...she must know that...you and I are...,". She couldn't finish the sentence.