Once Upon a Nightmare

this can be no trick

xxi: this can be no trick

I try very hard to stay conscious. Beneath the hum of my fever, I'm confident Armand will catch me if I slip off, so I'm less worried about it than he'd probably like me to be. Lana's with what remains of the Dream camp; Donovan is still missing. I'm not worried about that either, or anything, really, except holding in the contents of my stomach as Armand flies us back to the castle. We rise high enough I can see a vast expanse of ash on our left side, ending in the glowing, jagged line of the Edge. We pass what I never got to see inside a Reality Skipper. The deadened trees at the base of the Eye of the World Mountains gradually thicken into a wild forest the farther we fly. After a while, the forest on one side becomes rural hills, picturesque landscapes and blossoming orchards. On the other, it sinks into swamps, cemeteries and haunted mansions. Armand swoops toward Chimera.

I see the castle, high on its hill, before anything else. For the first time, I dare to sit up straight. The night air tugs at my air. The leathery flap of Armand's wings is hardly noticeable among the bats, gargoyles, and other dark-loving creatures. It really is beautiful, I think, watching the city unfold below us. Remembering Alexander's face when he first showed it to me in my mind, I know he'll be a good king.

Armand heads for the castle and panic tightens my grip on his neck. "Armand, no, wait," I say, hoping he can hear me. He slows, hovering mid air. I dimly recall already arguing about this, but my mind is so fuzzy, it's hard to grasp what the conclusion to that argument was. "Alexander will not want me there."

Armand flies faster, pointedly ignoring me.

I startle awake, unaware I'd drifted off, when cool fingers touch my cheek. "She's burning up. What's wrong with her? Is her body dying in Real World?" Genn—I'm pretty sure.

"No. I would know if it was." That's Alexander. His hands find my face next and I try to shy away, already predicting the additional warmth his fingertips will bring. Instead he sucks the heat out.

"I'm—" I croak, trying to tell them I'm thirsty. I think I'm lying on something—a bed? And then a torrent of water lands on me. Genn squeals in surprise. I cough, unable to get my eyes to focus, but I'm more awake now, soaked and blinking.

Alexander laughs.

"This is hardly funny," I hear Armand snap at him. Where is he? I try to find him, groping for his hand. I wish I could get my vision to cooperate.

"I know," Alexander says. Finally, his face forms in front of me. He's smiling, despite Armand's reprimand. "Honey, try not to create vivid images in your mind. With the fever, you can't control them."

Honey? Angrily, I do the opposite of what he asked and envision a whole downpour of honey sticking him to the side of the wall, away from me.

The room is swirling, but I try to sit upright and an arm comes around my shoulders to support me. Genn's on one side—tilting a little—but I can make out her hand over her mouth covering a laugh.

"Gross!" I hear Alexander complain.

Armand's soft chuckle is right by my ear, and I turn, seeking his face. I find his blue eyes and sigh with relief. Luckily he's holding me up, because I sag, dizzy again. "I think you're going to be just fine," he says.

He says something about getting me out of the wet bed and then a drink, which perks me up, but not enough to keep me awake. I drop off again before I realize what's happened.

When I wake up again, my head is aching, but I'm almost grateful for the sharpness after the hazy stream of images still plaguing my mind. With a small groan, I sit up and see Alexander sitting by my bedside. He's leaned back, arms crossed over his chest and one ankle resting on his knee. I don't recognize the room I'm in. It's not as dark as his bedroom, not as girlish as Genn's.