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Before this morning I would have been elated at the Council’s newfound confidence in me, but now it only made my stomach churn. After all my efforts, why did the Council finally trust me when I no longer deserved it?

At my continued melancholy Darius’s forehead furrowed. “This is what you’ve been waiting for. Aren’t you happy?”

I forced a smile, but it was a struggle to push my lips up. Naturally, Darius wasn’t fooled.

“What’s wrong, Eden?”

“Nothing.”

His frown only deepened, and his wasn’t the only one.

“As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right,” Stardust said. “You’ve been behaving strangely ever since your encounter with Spiderweb this morning.” She glared at him as if it were his fault.

As usual, he was unfazed by her hostility. “I know what will cheer you up. There’s something I’ve been meaning to give you.” He searched through his bag and pulled out the dream jar he’d stolen from my bedroom several months before and held it out to me. “I probably should have returned this a lot sooner.”

“You shouldn’t have taken it in the first place,” Stardust muttered.

“I only meant to study it,” Darius said. “But I can’t figure out what it is. The only thing I’ve been able to deduce is that it’s magic, so it feels wrong to keep power that isn’t mine; I’m no thief.”

I hastily pulled my reaching hand away. The guilt returned, sharp and suffocating. I didn’t realize I was on the verge of tears until they burned my eyes.

“Eden, what’s wrong?” Darius’s gaze, lined with concern, seeped into mine. I shook my head. “I can’t help you unless you tell me.” His tone was pleading.

“Leave her alone. Can’t you see your Nightmare interference is making her feel worse?” Stardust morphed into a blanket and wrapped herself around my quivering shoulders.

“I didn’t mean—”

I frantically wiped the incriminating tears away. “Let’s just get this Weaving over with so I can leave.”

After much persuasion, I assured Stardust she didn’t need to stay for the Weaving—her doing so now when she normally didn’t would only arouse Darius’s suspicion—and then I shakily removed my supplies from my bag. But before I could begin, Darius grabbed my hand, causing my breath to hook.

“We’re not doing the Weaving, not like this.”

For a moment I was speechless, lost in the warm sensations rippling from his touch. He wouldn’t be holding my hand if he knew the truth about me, about who I really was, what I was capable of. Even though most Nightmares would approve of how I’d tipped the balance in their favor, I knew Darius valued the balance and wanted justice.

“I’m a Dreamer,” I said, as if to reassure myself, even though the words felt like a lie on my tongue. “I’m a Dreamer, Darius.”

“I know you are,” he said gently. His thumb massaged the back of my hand, a touch that, while wonderful, did little to soothe my anxiety.

I nodded, as if his confirmation was enough to make it true, but my doubt lingered, slithering through my thoughts like a poisonous serpent.

“Let’s just finish the Weaving.” As much as I didn’t want to pull away, I jerked my hand out of his and grabbed the first flower I touched. Darius’s eyes widened as I pulled it out.

“What’s that?”

My heart sank. It was the reality rose. Too late I tried to hide it from view, but in a single motion Darius seized it, holding it by its stem as if it were contaminated.

“Comets, is this—”

“Give that back.” I tried to snatch it but he held it out of reach, darkness masking his features.

“Don’t you know what this is?” he demanded. “This is from the Ebony Market, a place full of forbidden, untested plants grown outside the Cultivating Fields. They create unusual effects on dreams, twisting them in strange and often harmful ways that go beyond the normal properties of magic. The Council has strictly outlawed their use in all Weavings, andyouhave one? If anyone catches you with it…” He looked as if I’d betrayed him.

A heavy feeling hardened in the pit of my stomach. “Don’t jump to any drastic conclusion. I didn’t get this from any illegal market, I got it from—”

I snapped my mouth shut, the fear from my lingering guilt rendering me silent. No, I couldn’t tell him about my realizations about Mother; no one must know. If he knew of my connection to the Ebony Market…

Darius’s expression softened as he stepped closer. “What is it, Eden? What’s wrong?” His interrogative manner had vanished, replaced with his earlier concern.