Page 11 of Prisoner of Darkness and Dreams (Fated to the Sun and Stars #3)

Morgana

I know I’m dreaming because the sun is shining. I can’t remember the last time I felt its warmth on my skin. Maybe when Caledon’s ready to execute me, they’ll stand me under its rays so that my magic will replenish ahead of him draining me, fattening me up for the slaughter.

For now, though, I have to settle for this weak imitation my imagination has conjured. It’s still a blessing after the eternal gloom of my cell. I soak it up.

“Ana.”

It’s so distant I don’t notice it at first. Then it calls again.

“Ana, come find me.”

Even as faint as it is, I know it’s the voice I’ve been waiting for—my anchor in the storm. It’s too faint to be real, but I don’t care that this is a fantasy. I’ll take whatever I can get and cling to it, just like I’ll take my moment to bask in the sun.

I follow the voice until I see him standing there. Tall, broad shouldered. His cropped, dark hair shifting in a light breeze. He turns and his eyes, gray as rainclouds, find mine.

“Leon,” I gasp.

A smile spreads across his face, brightening his eyes .

“I promised myself I’d find you, and I always keep my promises, Ana.”

I run toward him, and he opens his arms to catch me. When they close around me, pulling me up against him, I remember what it is to be safe. He encircles me with all his strength and power, and I know he never intends to let go.

The fizz of his power pulses around me, sparking across his skin as I press my lips to his. It doesn’t frighten me; instead, I feel like I’m being shocked back to life.

“Ana,” he brushes my hair back from my face, and I think I see a hint of fear in his eyes. Strange. Nothing scares him. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Of course,” I breathe. “Anything.” I feel delirious, drunk on his closeness, even just as an illusion.

He sets me down, and suddenly there’s something in his hands. A locket shaped like a heart on a beautiful, silver chain. I lean in to admire the delicate metalwork, giving in to the urge to reach out and touch it.

“Will you accept it, Ana? It means we can be together again, but you have to say yes.”

I sense that once I take the locket, things will never be the same again. But that’s just strange dream logic at work, isn’t it? My heart tells me I must accept his gift. It’s my destiny to do so.

“Yes, Leon. I accept it,” I say. I’m dazzled by his smile as he lifts the locket to position it around my neck. I think I catch a glimpse of some writing engraved on it, but I pay it no mind, focusing more on the touch of his fingers on my bare skin.

He fastens the chain and steps back. My hand goes to it, taking in its comforting weight. Warmth radiates through me, and I feel sure that as long as I wear this locket, Leon will be with me.

Together again.

I turn to thank him for the gift, only to see Leon walking away from me. Panicking, I stumble after him.

“Wait, Leon, where are you going?”

He stops, throwing me a look that shocks me with its raw pain.

“I’m sorry, Ana, but I can’t stay. ”

“No!” I shake my head, trying to reach him, but with every step I take toward him, he seems further away. “Don’t leave me. I can’t do this. I can’t be left alone again. Please.”

He looks strained, like he’s carrying a huge weight. “I have to go. It’s because of what the Temple has done to you. It’s too much for us both.”

He keeps fading into the distance, pulled away by some invisible force.

“I’ll find you, Ana.” The voice is a distant echo again. “In this world or the waking one, I’ll always find you.”

I wake in my empty cell, crushed at the loss of the dream. For a moment, I can only clutch my legs to my chest, breathing through the terrible ache of it. He was here with me, holding me in his arms, and now he’s gone.

The body’s gone too. Someone removed the cleric’s corpse while I slept. I stare at the spot where he’s lain for days, suddenly wondering if I imagined it all. I must’ve been deep asleep not to hear them come to take him away.

Deep inside that dream.

Was Leon really talking to me? It didn’t feel like the dreams he’s visited me in before.

This was hazier, like I was in danger of losing the thread of it at any moment.

And if Leon had really contacted me, wouldn’t it be to give me a message or ask where I was?

Not to hand me some imaginary locket, however beautiful it was.

Maybe I made the whole thing up just because I needed to keep the despair at bay. It’s a solid theory, because after the initial shock of waking up without Leon, I feel different. Rejuvenated, maybe even hopeful.

If nothing else, it has reminded me of the one thing I know to be true: Leon would never leave me alone. I’m certain he’s out there, somewhere, looking for me. Like he said, in this world or the waking one, I’ll find you.

I just have to stay alive long enough to let him.

The door of my cell clanks and grinds open. A prickle of fear runs over my skin, and I straighten up, readying myself as much as the chains allow.

My mouth goes dry when a red-robed figure enters, a purple sash cutting through the crimson .

Sophos closes the cell door behind him and puts his arms behind his back. His tall, lean frame looms over me, the sweeping robes a stark contrast to the darkness of the cell. When he looks down at me, I’m reminded of a bird of prey deciding exactly how to stab the worm at its feet.

“Hello again, Morgana Angevire,” he says.

I stay silent even as I desperately try to figure out why he’s turned up here. Is this it? Has the time come for Caledon to kill me? Or has he changed his mind about letting me heal and decided to torture me some more?

A fizz of magic passes into my awareness and I stiffen, wondering what Sophos is trying to do. When I don’t suddenly double over in agonizing pain, I realize the bearer is using his sound magic not to hurt me, but to put a bubble of silence around the room.

That makes me only more wary, carefully watching Sophos examine the cell. His expression is cool and calculating. I remember that unnatural calm at the purge, right before he killed one of my friends.

“I only just learned they were holding you here,” he says. “Your escape attempt caused quite a stir. Menalus was a promising cleric.”

“Did you really just execute him for messing up? Or were you that desperate to find a fresh way to torture me?”

There’s a slight tightening in Sophos’s eyes I can’t read. “Bearer Tributin dealt with that situation. I imagine both factors were a consideration for him. However, it was I who asked them to remove Menalus’s body from your cell.”

His voice is emotionless, but he doesn’t exactly look pleased. I get the sense he doesn’t like his black-haired colleague very much, or his tactics.

“Menalus,” I say, repeating the name. “He was young. He just made a mistake.” I’m talking mostly to myself, still unable to process the cruelty of it.

“You’re disturbed by his death,” Sophos says, half statement, half question. I finally recognize the look in his eyes as curiosity. I don’t know why he’s standing around making small talk with me, but I’m too exhausted to be anything but honest right now .

“Now I’ve seen the Bastion and what you monsters do to the acolytes, I almost feel sorry for them,” I say wearily. “I certainly don’t want that cleric’s blood on my hands just because he happened to stand between me and freedom.”

Sophos nods, as if this confirms something for him, and shifts his arms in front of him. Instantly, my eyes fall to the smooth stump where his right hand used to be.

“Ah yes, my new battle scar,” he says, following my gaze. He doesn’t seem fazed by it, his tone resigned. Still, I sit up straighter when he looks back at me.

“I have the fae prince to thank for this,” he says, lifting his arm. “Leonidas Claerwyn is every bit as brutal in battle as the war stories claim.”

“I’m only sorry he didn’t finish the job,” I snap. I don’t care about angering the bearer—he’s going to do what he wants to me anyway. Maybe he’ll even hurt me as a way to take revenge on Leon.

But no, if Caledon wants me healed, Sophos wouldn’t defy him. He strikes me as too much of a rule follower for that.

“He was too busy protecting the rebel extremists to bother with killing me,” Sophos says matter-of-factly.

“And he’ll protect me too,” I say, searching for anything that might scare this man.

If he’s seen Leon in action, the threat of his return might just do the trick.

“He’ll come find me, and when he sees what you’ve all done to me, you’ll be praying to the gods that they take you before he gets his hands on you. ”

Again, Sophos doesn’t respond how I expect. His eyes brighten at my words.

“You really think the fae prince will come for you?” he asks, intrigued.

“I think he’ll tear this city apart one building at a time if that’s what it takes to get me back,” I say. And I believe it. Ever since I woke from my dream, my certainty has been growing. I haven’t seen Leon for the last time.

Sophos looks at me for a beat, then seems to make a decision.

“You underestimate the Grand Bearer, Miss Angevire,” he says. “His Grace is more powerful and clever than you could imagine. Certainly too strong and wise to be taken down by you and your friends, even if Leonidas Claerwyn did come for you.”

I scoff, disgusted by his blind loyalty.

“Wise? He’s a fucking fraud. He’s lying to all of you, and you just lap it up. You really think solari are heretics, and yet you’re worshipping at the feet of the biggest celestial magic user of them all.”

I’m ranting now, venting all my rage about Caledon’s manipulations. I don’t actually expect a reaction from Sophos. Surely, he’ll just brush my words aside like all the other clerics. But then he goes very still, and I feel a flare of fear, wondering if I’ve pushed him too far.

When he does speak, his voice is clear and sharp as a bell.

“Your deceptions can’t undo the fact that His Grace is no ordinary man. He is far superior to us all, a blessed being, the like of which this land hasn’t seen for millennia. Since Ethira walked the earth.”

I laugh bitterly. “You think that self-obsessed maniac is anything like Ethira? A literal god ?”

“A man who became a god,” Sophos corrects me. “And His Grace will be blessed by the gods with the same immortality eventually. Those of us closest to him have been anticipating it for some time.”

So that’s what it’s about. Caledon doesn’t just want to be the most powerful man in the kingdom.

No, he wants to be as powerful as a god.

That’s why he’s so focused on accumulating magic.

He already knows it can extend his life, and now he’s aiming higher—hoping it will take him to true immortality.

My stomach sinks at the idea. I don’t think the real gods would ever accept a monster like Caledon in their ranks. But he already seems untouchable. If there was a way he could be a bit more god like —say, physically invincible—what hope would we have of beating him?

But why is Sophos, of all people, telling me about the Grand Bearer’s ultimate goals? It might sound like he was bragging about them, but that doesn’t seem to be his character. His brand of fanaticism is quiet and unflashy. So why has he bothered coming down here to rub this in?

What is this conversation really about ?

Of course it could be a trick, but if it is, I don’t get the catch. “Is that all you came here to tell me?” I ask.

Sophos doesn’t reply, but his hand automatically reaches to clasp the other, and when he’s left clutching air, it clearly throws him. For a second, I don’t see the cool, controlled bearer who commanded the Otscold purge or chased us down at Bastion. Instead, he looks uncertain. Even lost.

I blink, and that perspective is gone. Sophos is reaching for the cell door with an imperious glance in my direction.

“Goodbye, Morgana Angevire,” Sophos says, signaling that our audience is over.

As soon as the door slams shut behind him, the fizz of magic around me dissipates, and I know Sophos’s bubble of silence is gone.

“Lafia?” I murmur into the gloom.

“Morgana?” Her voice rings out from the grate. I drag myself over to it.

“Yes, I’m here,” I say, feeling a surge of gratitude that my prison mate is still here with me.

“What was that?” she asks. “I heard someone coming to your cell and then just silence. I was starting to get worried.”

“It was Bearer Sophos.”

“Ah, well…That explains the silence.”

“You’re familiar with him then,” I say grimly.

“Of course. He’s Caledon’s favorite bearer. He’s a legend in the Temple.” Lafia says she holds no illusions about the Temple now, but old habits die hard, and I can hear the hint of intimidated awe in her voice when she talks about the bearer.

“Well then maybe you can tell me what just happened.”

I give a quick summary of the conversation.

“You’re right about one thing,” Lafia says. “Bearer Sophos wouldn’t have come here to brag. He’s terrifying, but he’s also known to be the least arrogant of the bearers. He really lives to serve the Temple. He has no interest in mocking the people he believes sin against it. ”

“And what would be the point, if he expects Caledon to execute me soon anyway?” I add.

You really think the fae prince will come for you? His question rings in my ears. Do I think Leon will come find me?

I don’t just think it. I’m counting on it.