The Dark Divide: The Wayward Series, Young Adult Dark Fantasy (The Wayward Haunt Series Book 3) by Cas E Crowe

Author:Cas E Crowe [Crowe, Cas E]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cas E Crowe
Published: 2023-09-16T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 23

“Don’t be ridiculous. The silver-thorned witch doesn’t exist—” Isgrad stopped himself. The glint of hesitance in his eyes shone bright, then dimmed into dark fury. “You had a nightmare. Now, go sleep on the couch. You won’t need a blanket. The fire will be warm enough.”

I wondered if Isgrad regretted telling Willieth the story about the silver-thorned witch. At the time, I’d hoped it was just a nasty story created by a provoked older brother intent on scaring his little sibling, but now I suspected there was truth to the legend.

Scrunching his face in disgust, Isgrad picked up Willieth’s pyjama bottoms and found a bucket in the kitchen cupboard, where he promptly discarded the soiled trousers. He crossed into the bedroom, which had two single beds too narrow in size for anyone to sleep comfortably, and took up the sheets and pillow. He returned to the living area. Willieth was already settled on the couch, staring into the fire.

“You’ll go blind if you keep doing that.” Isgrad dropped his bedding in a grumpy huff on the floor, took off his shoes, and lay down.

“Are you sleeping here?” Uncertainty filled Willieth’s voice.

“Well, I can’t sleep in the bedroom, can I? It stinks of urine.”

Isgrad’s tone was sharp, but I think deep inside he was using it as an excuse. Willieth was scared, and he felt responsible. He wasn’t going to let his little brother suffer alone at night, frightened and jumping at the shadows.

“Do you think I was really dreaming?”

Isgrad didn’t answer for a while. “Sometimes our dreams, especially nightmares, can feel very real.”

“What if the silver-thorned witch was visiting me in my dream? I’ve heard of dream walkers.”

“Dream walkers are dead. They were all rounded up centuries ago and executed by the Council’s decree.”

“How do you know?”

“I read it. In a history book.”

“What if the book was wrong?”

In the fire’s flickering rays, I saw exhaustion pull at Isgrad’s eyelids. He’d been out most of the night, searching the woods for the elusive purple flowers, had been chased by bloodthirsty lycanthors, which he’d barely escaped, only to come home and find his five-year-old brother had wet the bed and was in desperate need of comfort.

Exhausted was an understatement. Isgrad looked like he needed to drop into a coma to catch up on some much-needed sleep.

He smoothed his pillow, perhaps trying to flatten the big chunks beneath the yellow-stained fabric, and settled his head on the side to stare up at his little brother. “Nothing can hurt you here. It’s why Mum brought us to the cabin.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” Willieth looked far too young to have such a troubled look in his eyes. “The silver-thorned witch told me something bad would happen.” He breathed in and out rapidly, his upper lip dampened with sweat. “She said you would hurt me… and that it would change everything.”

“I’m not going to hurt you. It was a bad dream.”

“You get so angry at times.”

“Willieth, what did I just say? You’re not the only one who needs sleep.

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