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Skye’s grip on the edge of the table tightened, and Aiden glanced over at him when the wood began to groan in protest. He glanced from Skye to the two men standing on the table, still extolling the virtues of their “Savior,” and back.

Aiden stood. “You know what I think we need?” he asked, grabbing the half-empty bottle. “More booze.A lotmore booze.”

He was on his feet before Skye could comment, and as he passed the table, he“tripped,”shoving the edge with his hip and sending the two drunken fools still wobbling on top flying off the side.

The only other toasts that night were to the floor—that benevolent lady that would always be there to catch you when you fall.

Aiden came back to the table with two more bottles, and when those were gone, two more. He went on and on, telling stories and jokes, and though Skye tried to laugh at those times when he thought it might be appropriate to laugh, the sound fell flat.

Eventually, Aiden ran out of distractions and looked content enough to sit back in the booth, nursing what was left of the bottle and watching as the patrons began to trickle out for the evening.

A young woman that Skye vaguely recognized from his time at court was still at the bar, sipping ale and leaning forward in a way that showed off the dangerously low cut of her dress. She had been trying to catch his attention for at least half an hour now, but he gave her yet another shake of his head, turning away and ignoring the mournful pout that pulled at her perfect features.

Aiden’s eyes cut to the woman, then back to Skye. “Don’t fall on your sword on my account,” he said, resting his head on the back of the booth. “She’s pretty. You should offer to take her home.”

Skye gave him a tight smile. “I’m fine.”

“Bullshit.” Then, more gently: “You lost a friend.”

“I’ve haven’t lost anything,” Skye insisted. “She’s coming back.”

“Skye—”

“Don’tsay it.”

Aiden sighed, and they both lapsed back into silence. But the door had already been opened, and doubt began to creep back in.

What if Ivain and Sarina were right? What if he really was just out of his mind with grief? He kept trying to find meaning in his dreams—some sign that Taly was still alive. But what if the dreams, the tunnels, the beasts they’d found, the diaries,her… What if it was all just a series of coincidences? An illusion, a fantasy. His mind’s way of trying to spare him from a kind of pain that he might not be able to find his way back from.

“Can I tell you something?” Skye asked. The buzz of alcohol was making his head swim, and the words were out before he’d even thought to ask the question.

“Sure,” Aiden said, interest piqued.

Skye picked at a crack in the table. He probably shouldn’t do this. Heknewhe shouldn’t do this, but… he just needed to tell one person. A friend. Someone he could trust, who could tell him once and for all that he wasn’t crazy.

He had almost told Kato earlier, but something had stopped him. Even if his brother’s intentions had been noble, the trust between them was still too tenuous and new.

Aiden though… If there was anyone that could understand what he was about to do and why he had to do it, it would be Aiden.

Skye cleared his throat. “I-I’ve been having dreams.”

Aiden arched a brow, sitting up slightly as he took in Skye’s slightly hunched shoulders, the uncertainty in his eyes. “What kind of dreams?” he pressed.

And before he could think better of it, Skye began telling Aiden about the dreams. He told him about Taly, about the way she had warned him that the airtram station would be left unguarded. Everything—he told him about every dream, every detail he could recall. He even told him about the woman in the tunnels, and those damn blue lights, and the diaries he had found beneath the floor of her old room.

When he was done, Aiden simply stared at him, eyes wide. And that was fair. No cause for alarm. It was a lot to take in, after all.

“So…” Aiden finally said. He pushed his glass away, rubbing at the bridge of his nose like he could wipe away the haze of alcohol that still clouded his eyes. “Are you telling me you think your dreams are real?”

Skye nodded.

“And that Taly’s real?”

Another nod.

“And you think that she… tells you to do things?”

When Skye gave another resigned nod, Aiden looked away, then back. His mouth open and shut, not unlike a fish.