A Wish Upon the Stars (Tales From Verania 4)

I couldn’t turn around. I didn’t know how I could look him in the eye without breaking.

“This feels so real,” he said, sounding despondent. “It’s like when you were in Castle Freesias and we were—”

“On the road,” I said roughly. “Coming to me.”

“Yeah. Just like that.”

“I know.”

“Do you? Because I’ve dreamed of you. But never like this. I can see you. All of you. It’s not in a haze. It’s not—”

The sun set quickly. The night swallowed the day, and stars burst out across the sky above, David’s Dragon almost blinding. I wondered if he was watching. If all the gods were.

Footsteps approached from behind me, and I said, “Stop.”

He did. “Why? What is this? Is this—is this real? Oh my gods, Sam, is this—”

“I think so.”

“Fucking hell, where are—”

“Language. You’re a godsdamn knight of Verania. You need to—”

He choked wetly. “You don’t—Sam. Where are you? Right now. At this very moment. Tell me where you are.”

I sighed. “Camp HaveHeart.”

The sound he made reminded me of when he’d been pinned to the wall with a sword: deep and wounded, like it hurt more than anything. “You came back?”

“I told you I would.”

“But—that’s not…. I’m coming. We’re almost there. You wait. You don’t move a godsdamn muscle, you hear me?”

“I—”

“I mean it, Sam. You won’t like what happens if I get there and you’re not.”

That sent a hot chill down my spine. “But how can I know what happens if I’m not there to see it—”

“Sam.”

“Right. Not the time.”

“I’m so angry with you.”

I bowed my head.

His hand dropped on my shoulder. His forehead pressed against the back of my neck, and I shuddered at the feel of him, the weight. He breathed me in as I trembled.

“But I’m still coming for you,” he whispered against my skin.

“I know.”

“Why won’t you look at me?”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Sam.”