can’t promise that she’ll agree to help, but you can try.”
“Absolutely not,” Jaxson said.
I jerked my gaze from the page and gave Jaxson the look, even though it
generally didn’t work on him. “Hold on a sec. If this is our one shot at
stopping Kahanov from putting anyone else to sleep, we’ve got to take it.”
He stood and gently gripped my elbow, towing me up. “We know nothing
about the Dreamlands or this entity. It’s too risky, and we’re not going.”
I yanked my arm free and turned to Sorsha. “Tell us about the
Dreamlands.”
Jaxson growled but stayed put.
Her eyes glistened and lost focus. “The Dreamlands is a magical realm,
like the lands of the fey. It’s where our dreams go once we’ve woven them—
a strange mirror of earth, constantly changing and growing. It’s unpredictable
and deadly and wonderful.”
Her words raised the tiny hairs on my neck, and I felt as if at some point,
we’d already crossed a dangerous line. “How do we get there?”
She smiled and met my eyes. “Oh, I can guide you to Cavra. All you must
do is dream.”
35
Jaxson
Thirty minutes later, Savannah and I found ourselves sitting on thick rugs
around a smoking brazier of fire-cracked stones and incense in Sorsha’s
sweat lodge. Well, she called it a lodge, but it was little more than a
makeshift tent in her backyard.
I scrubbed a hand through my hair as a growing sense of unease settled in
my bones.
Pack lore spoke little of the Dreamlands, mentioning it only in whispers
at the dark edges of stories. It was a place of nightmares made manifest.
Trusting the witch to take us there was reckless as hell. Even if Sorsha
didn’t simply drug us and try to rob us blind, we’d have to find this entity,