Page 21 of Shardless
Skye wanted to ask her the one question he had been repeating to himself over and over since she left.Is that why you ran away?He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to form the words.
Sensing his hesitation, Taly said, “That’s not why I left. At least, not completely.” For a moment it looked like she was going to say more, but she didn’t. Instead, she closed her mouth with an audible click of her teeth.
He continued to stare at the mark. Even after a year, it was still there—an angry, purple welt.
Pulling her hand away, she asked, “Are you finished?”
“Uh… not yet,” Skye stammered as he turned back to the laces on the back of her dress. He worked quickly, making sure to carefully conceal the white shift beneath the delicate silk of her gown.
“There. All done,” he said stiffly as Taly turned around to face him. The lighthearted atmosphere had dissipated, and she wouldn’t look him in the eye. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Well, since Sarina and Ivain seem intent on making this a formal affair, I should probably go change. I’ll see you in a bit.”
Skye turned and made for the door. His throat felt tight, and he wanted nothing more than to retreat to the quiet solitude of his private chambers.
“Hey, Skye. Wait a minute,” Taly called as he crossed the room to leave. “Does Sarina still send the laundry out?”
Skye paused and then let out a rumbling laugh. She had finally figured it out.
“Just now catching on?” he asked, a little too pleased.
He didn’t need to turn around to see the dawning look of horror on her face as she started to realize the full extent of Sarina’s manipulation. The laundry wouldn’t be delivered until the next morning.
“You cagey bastards trapped me here.”
“See you downstairs,” Skye responded in a sing-song voice as he excused himself.
Chapter 4
-From the personal diary of Talya Caro
I had the dream again last night. The dream about the fire.
It began differently this time. Rather than being shaken awake as the fires blazed outside, it started out peacefully. I was standing in a garden with a man that seemed so familiar to me. His face was scarred, but his eyes were kind. He made me feel safe. But when I tried to focus on anything else about him—the color of his hair, the clothes he wore, or even his name—the more difficult it became to stay present.
We were walking a circuitous garden path, and my hands danced through an intricate series of gestures. Gold dust started to materialize and weave itself around my fingers, and in my dream, it almost felt like that energy was a natural part ofme—an extension of something deep inside that I’ve somehow forgotten.
The dream skipped forward at that point. No matter what, no matter how many times I relive this same nightmare, I always end up face-to-face with a woman. She’s speaking, but I can’t quite make out her words. It’s as though we’re underwater.
And that is where the dream always ends. Every time, I wake with the same alarming sense that something awful has happened to that woman. I dream so often of her. In contrast to the man, I can recall every detail about her. Her face. The dimple in her cheek. Even the spatters of blood that dot her fingernails as she strokes my hair. I don’t even know if she’s real, and yet, I’m always left with an inexplicable sense of loss.
Taly gasped, startled awake by a familiar sense of dread. The illusory sting of smoke still clouded her eyes and sweat beaded on her brow as she emerged from the already fading memory of the blistering heat.
Taking a deep breath, she sunk into the mattress as the rapid beat of her heart began to slow. This particular nightmare was nothing new. She’d been reliving the night of the fire that stole away her old life for as long as she could remember, so the initial terror, though acute, was fleeting.
With a sigh, Taly stubbornly pulled the impossibly soft quilt over her chin and flopped onto her side, wriggling until she was fully ensconcedinside a cocoon of fluffy blue blankets. How could it be morning already? It felt like she had gone to bed only moments ago.
I guess that’s what a soft bed will do for you. Shards, I miss soft beds. And food. And champagne. Shards, how much coin did Ivain and Sarina throw away on just champagne last night?
She tried cracking open her eyes again, flinching away from the bright light streaming in through a gap in the curtains. A quick glance around her old room immediately confirmed her worst fears. She really had agreed to come back to the manor.
Taly still wasn’t quite sure how she had ended up here. She had successfully avoided coming back home for nearly a year, and then Skye had somehow talked her into returning within the span of a few minutes. It was almost pitiful if she really thought about it.
That doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done.As nice as it had been to be reunited with all the people she loved most—eating and laughing together like she had never walked out on them—she needed to leave. She would finish the job today and then go back to her new life. Even if nothing bad had happened in the past year, she was no longer comfortable staying here. Not with her…condition.
As if to reinforce that thought, a gossamer fog fluttered across her vision.
Not again,Taly thought, bringing her hands up to shield her eyes. Most of the time, if she just took a deep breath and willed the visions to go away, they would.
When she dared to peek through her fingers, it became clear that wasn’t going to be the casetoday. The golden mist was still there, hovering in the far corner of the room. It flickered, its edges hazy and undefined until, finally, it molded itself into the ghostly likeness of a woman. As Taly continued to stare, the specter listlessly drifted across the perimeter of the room before coming to a stop in front of the door. It raised a hand as if to knock but then paused, its edges already blurring as the image dissolved.
