The Goblets Immortal by Beth Overmyer (read 50 shades of grey .TXT) 📕

be able to visit her again in his dreams until her servant had reached him? Whoever and whenever that might be.

“I see….”

Meraude looked like a cat ready to pounce on its prey.

“Don’t tell her anything,” Aidan warned the girl, knowing it was fruitless. He could almost laugh at himself. This clearly was a one-sided vision…if it was, in fact, a vision and not just some common dream.

“It’s a man.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake!” Aidan turned and tried to mentally rouse himself.

“He does not want me to tell you what I see. He looks…confused. Angry. Like he doesn’t believe he’s here. He – he thinks he’s dreaming.”

Aidan froze. Perhaps this wasn’t an ordinary dream, after all.

Meraude pounced. “How can you be sure? Can you hear his thoughts?”

“Of course not,” Larkin snapped. “People’s faces are easy to read. Especially people who have lost so much.”

“Larkin?” Aidan asked tentatively.

The girl’s eyes rose, and they met his. “He’s talking to me.”

Aidan swallowed hard. This had to be a dream…and yet, stranger things had happened. “You can see and hear me?”

“Of course I can see and hear you. You’re standing right there.”

Aidan clenched his fists. “Don’t tell Meraude what I’m saying. Make things up. Do not let her know who I am or what I look like.”

The girl frowned. “Why?”

Shaking, he ran a hand over his face and blinked rapidly. “Maybe this is a hallucination.”

Meraude was growing impatient. She grabbed Larkin by the shoulder and shook her. “What is this person saying? Where is he? Why did he appear to you?”

Aidan shook his head. “Don’t tell her a thing.”

“He— He’s from years down the way. I think he came here to warn you about something.”

Aidan sighed in relief. “That’s good. Keep lying.”

The girl acquiesced. “He thinks there’s a plot to murder you. In your sleep, twenty years from now.”

A crease formed on Meraude’s brow. “Ask him where he got his information.”

He shook his head when the girl frowned. “Don’t let her know I can hear or see her. That could ruin the whole game. Ask me what she asked you to.”

“Well, girl, ask him,” Meraude said.

Aidan nodded. “Please.”

“Meraude wants to know how you got the information.”

If he wanted to ask, he had to do so quickly, before the girl gave up the game. “Two and twenty years ago, I made my family vanish.”

“What makes you think that?” she asked him.

Meraude cut in. “Think what?”

Larkin held up a hand for the mage to wait. “You can tell me.”

“I am Blest. Something to do with the Goblets—”

“The Goblets Immortal, yes. The Summoning one?”

If Meraude had been impatient before, she was livid with unease now. “Is the person who is attempting to murder me in twenty years in possession of a Goblet? How did they come upon it?”

Larkin frowned and sighed. “My mistress wants to know if— Oh, just a moment, milady, he is speaking again.” She nodded at Aidan, who took the chance.

“Is there any way to bring them back? Can Meraude help me? Will Meraude help me?”

Her frown deepened. “Only the dead can be—” Whatever the dead alone could be, Aidan did not find out. He was roused from his sleep with a jolt.

Opening his eyes, Aidan was disoriented and confused to find himself wrapped around Slaíne, her red hair wound up in his hands. He groaned and untangled himself gently.

Slaíne was still asleep, for once no care written on her face. She stirred as he got to his feet, but he did not remain. He needed to think.

His shoulder throbbed, though it no longer pained him as severely as it had the night before. Truth be told, though, he hadn’t slept so well in quite some time. Not that he would tell Slaíne…ever.

Having to make water rather urgently, he left her for a nearby gathering of trees. By the look of where the sun sat in the sky, and by the lack of dew on the ground, they had slept into the late morning. The dream still burned brightly in his mind, and every time he blinked, he swore he could see that pale child staring back at him.

Once he had finished his business, Aidan made himself decent and was going to see if he could rouse Slaíne, but thought better of it. Let her sleep for now. He would think of what was to be done next in solitude.

He felt for Pulls. There were more than he had felt for days, though only one in the near vicinity was human. Slaíne. Aidan shook his head, ignored that Pull in particular, and reached out to feel for other living things around him. Smaller life, like insects and mice, were within a hand’s reach underground. But that was not quite what he was feeling for. Just a little larger…. He felt bigger animals, deer and elk, perhaps. Too large. He needed—

“Aha!” He heard them before he felt them: frogs. They would lead him to what they needed desperately right now.

Smiling, he was about to take off in pursuit of them, but remembered Slaíne and ran back for her. When he returned to camp, he hesitated.

The girl was awake, sitting cross-legged, a scowl on her face and the silver blade in her lap. This did not bode well.

Aidan moved in slowly, and for a moment, he wondered what she would do with that sword if she weren’t bound to him by the curse. Run him through? The thought sent a shiver down his spine. He hoped he never had to find out. “You’re awake,” he said, wincing for having stated the obvious. When she didn’t respond, he tried again. “About last night— I’m sorry. It was cold and….” And I enjoyed it a lot more than I ought to have.

Slaíne’s scowl deepened. “Who is Larkin?”

Aidan’s brows shot heavenward. “You want to put that sword down and tell me what this is about?”

She looked at the blade as though she’d forgotten she had it. “The only thing they left, it seems. Found it by a tree.”

Aidan waited, wondering what