Page 118 of Liar Witch

I hear the bed creak, feel it dip behind me, and know that she’s climbed in with him. The insane urge to copy her and claim the space on her other side flitters through my brain for an instant.

No freaking way. I do not want to spoon the witch.

I put it down to tiredness and settle in for a watch. The witch’s tiny snores reach my ears minutes later. Not cute, but not terrible either. Does it make me insane that I’m almost glad to find a flaw in her? Probably, but now that I’ve almost accepted she’s not a mage spy, I have to find something to stop me from turning into a lovesick puppy like the rest of them.

No more fae jump out of the shadows and, despite myself, I start to relax. Those tiny snores conspire with the fae dust in my system, lulling me into a strange, almost trance.

Somehow, I drift off to sleep.

Nilsa

Timber groans. Cracks. Shrieks.

My body jackknifes upright before my mind has even properly woken up. The cabin—Kier’s cabin—is covered in deep, inky purple. The transmutation circles so thick that I can barely make out the individual lines and glyphs which make each one.

Are we under attack? I can’t hear cannon fire.

More fae?

No. Aside from a still unconscious Kier, there’s no one else in the room—

No one except Val.

The mage is on the floor, his skin covered in transmutation circles, which are glowing so brightly that I can barely make out his features. Ropes from the ship have appeared from everywhere to wind around his limbs, holding him down as he pants and sweats. Despite their tight hold, he’s thrashing so hard that he’s going to hurt himself if he keeps this up. His eyes are half-open.

Night terrors.

It’s a miracle the others haven’t come to find out what’s going on. Or perhaps it’s so normal that they don’t think anything of it.

Val will hate me if I try to comfort him. He’ll hate that I’ve seen this at all.

I should leave him.

My body sags back into the covers, only to freeze when I hear the softest whimper.

“No.”

Fuck it. He can hate me later.

I slip from the bed with a last check to make sure Kier is still no worse than he was before.

The ropes part in waves as I tiptoe closer to Val, making me a path. Almost like the ship wants me to help him.

And since the shipisVal, that has to mean he won’t mind.

Thankfully, I’m not stupid enough to think waking him is a good idea. If he’s using this much magic while he’s asleep, then waking him now will be dangerous.

But I don’t have to wake him when I already know that compulsion will work perfectly well on him while he sleeps.

Reaching out to Opal is instinctive, the rush of answering magic making me hum softly in satisfaction.

“Mother Moon,” I whisper. “Grant me the power of compulsion.”

The familiar glow is almost invisible in the sunlight pouring through Kier’s window, but I can feel its presence. It wraps around me, then floats down to cover Val like a blanket.

“You will sleep peacefully, without dreaming.”

Magic pulses through my every word, even as the glow of his own slowly fades away. His limbs slowly stop jerking. The ropes slither away. Even the frown that’s normally fixed onto his face disappears, leaving him almost boyish to look at.