Page 55 of Burdened Bonds

An injured creature. I had to save an injured creature.

Immediately, I’m up on my knees, and scrabbling along the floor until I find Pip laid out on the bed.

“Pip?” I say, resting my hand on his little body. “Pip?”

His eyes open a little and then drift shut again. His skin is hot, his body quivering.

What the hell is wrong with him? I stroke my hand down his body.

In my dream I needed to heal a creature – a beast. Was it Pip? Have I neglected him? Did I trust too much in Renzo’s opinion? Should I be trying to heal him now?

I close my eyes and feel through his body with my magic. I can feel no injuries, no wounds. All I feel is the remnants of magic – is that the magic that struck him? I try to tug at it, to pull it away, but it’s as if it’s welded to his very soul, weaved into his very bones.

“Oh Pip,” I say, resting my forehead against his. I’ve always taken him for granted. Always. He’s always been with me, by my side, giving me courage when I’ve lacked it, support when I’ve had none, a friendly face when I’ve needed one. I can’t lose him. I can’t bear to lose him.

“Is he no better, little rabbit?” Renzo says, from somewhere behind me. It’s dark in the little cabin and the temperature has dropped. I shudder, wiping away tears from my eyes.

“No better. He’s never been sick before. In all the years we’ve had him. Not once.”

“Never?”

“Unless, you count the times he’s scoffed himself silly and made himself vomit. But I don’t think that counts.” I manage a smile, swiping away at another tear.

Renzo comes to kneel beside me and looks down at thepig. “He doesn’t seem any worse, little rabbit, and that’s a good thing.”

“Is it?” I say, hopefully, one minute eager to reject any advice from this man, now happy to latch onto it.

“Yeah.” He strokes Pip’s ear.

“I dreamed I was meant to save him. That I was meant to heal him.”

“I told you, little rabbit, you just got to give him time.”

“You don’t understand,” I say, shaking my head. “It seemed so real.”

“Dreams always do.”

“But mine …” I peer at the assassin through the darkness. He’s dressed in just his jeans, his hair ruffled, his eyes sleepy. He looks more boyish than ever. “My mom was a seer.”

“Yeah, I heard that,” he says. And somehow I’m not surprised. “You … you think this was the same, little rabbit?”

“I used to have these dreams when I was little. They’d seem so real. And sometimes they’d …” I stare down at Pip, watching as his frail ribcage lifts and falls.

“Come real.”

“Yes. But then they stopped. Just like that. And I never had another – I didn’t really dream at all.”

“Until just now?” he asks, intrigued.

I shake my head. “I dreamed of you. Several months back, I dreamed of you. I dreamed you were trying to strangle me, to squeeze the breath out of me.”

Renzo chuckles. “Fuck me, I’d love to squeeze that throat of yours, little rabbit.” He leans and whispers into my ear. “You know it would make everything feel even fucking better.”

I twist my head and peer into his eyes. I think I could betempted to do all manner of dangerous things with this man.

But the dream buzzes around my head, pulling at my attention.

“What if I am seer – like my mom? What if this dream meant something? What if I am supposed to heal Pip and I can’t?”