House of Sand and Secrets (Books of Oreyn #2)(57)

I thump him on his shoulder. “No. Don’t go looking for reasons not to do this. I’m offering, so take it.”

“Since you put it so elegantly,” he says, “how can I resist?” But he stays unmoving. “This is a mistake.”

I shift above him, pressing myself down harder. “Then let’s make a mistake.” I lean forward to kiss him. He tastes of blood, sweetly metallic. “It will hardly be our first.”

He sighs and pulls one arm up to bite at his wrist. The action is the only clear thing in the room, all about us the shadows have made everything hazy and unreal. When he holds up his bleeding arm to me I’m almost confused by it. I have no idea what it is I’m doing. Perhaps this is some strange dream I’ve fallen into, brought on by fire and exhaustion. We’re in the office, we haven’t woken, Isidro is still with Harun, where he should be. Harun has had no Vision of our black and terrible future. Of the children I will not have.

My tongue flicks out, tastes the magic in Jannik’s blood. There’s a momentary nausea as I think of what it is I’m actually doing then that is squashed under a trampling of sensation. My head is filled.

“Wait,” says Jannik. His mouth is still set in a grim line as he watches me suck at the tender vein. The sound of his voice is in my head, pulling up walls and floor and a roof. It’s no place I recognize.



*



I’m standing in a white room, returned to a more conventional state of dress in my crimson gown, the buttons done up, the silk glimmering. Jannik too is dressed and unrumpled. He’s opposite me, thoughtful, his eyes dark as he frowns.

“Where are we?”

“Inside your head,” he answers.

I take another brief look around me at the empty nothingness. “I’m certain I’ve at least had a thought or two in my time. I’m not that vacuous.”

He smiles with just one side of his mouth. “Not like that. I mean I’ve made a space inside your head where you can build.”

“And how exactly am I supposed to do that?” I squint. “You made a space? You’re rearranging my head?”

“In a very small way.”

Dimly, I’m aware of my real body, outside, all around me. Moving and sighing. I think I would rather be out there enjoying what’s going on than stuck in a bizarre architectural lesson.

“Forget about that for now,” Jannik says. He steps closer and clicks his fingers under my nose. “You need to concentrate on this.”

“You’re reading my mind.”

“I did warn you, and since right now I’m inside your head there are no barriers. You have no defences, especially as the rest of you is otherwise engaged.” He looks uncomfortable.

“And you’re not?”

“I’m here and there.” He grins at me.

“You bastard. I’ll want a re-enactment.”

“I’m sure I’ll be able to oblige.”

I sigh and push loose tendrils of hair back from my face. “Fine, teach me.”

“A challenge.” He’s secure here, playful, lightly mocking.

I’m in his territory even though the head space is mine. My mouth twists wryly at this, and I almost smile.

He steps closer and rests his hands on my shoulders. “Well start with a single room. It has to be a place you felt safe – where nothing bad could come for you.”

That’s easy enough – my tower room at the old manor. I was the only one with the key to it, my mother’s kindest gift to me. The first thing that shimmers into existence is the bed with its old notched varnish, and the dark blue coverlet. “It’s so real.” I reach out and touch it. It’s solid. The wood is cool and hard, the coverlet soft, the wool of unicorn kids.

“It is. It’s more real than the rest of the world.”

“If you start quoting bad verse at me I’m going back,” I warn him.

“Barbarian,” he says, laughing a little. “It’s good, Felicita.” He motions to my childhood bed. “Really, a good start. Just keep remembering the room with that kind of attention to detail.”

“That’s it?” I say as the rest of my bedroom unrolls around me. I laugh in delight as the rich patterns of my carpet crawl under my feet and the stone walls spring up, the roof beams shooting overhead. “Ha!” My entire room is there in an aching, very real way. It smells of home. “It’s so easy.”

“No it’s not. You’re a natural magic-user. I should have known you’d take to this. You must miss this place,” he says softly, then shakes his head. “Not that easy. I’m going to go now. After I’ve left, think of something simple, the name of a favourite pet, and hide it here, then leave.”

He flicks out, disappearing so quickly I am left with a cold stone in my throat. There is a flash of red like traces of ribbons, as if they bind him to me, then they too are gone. I do what he says, then let go of the vision of my bedroom.

I am back in the physical world and it’s like being smashed in the head with a hammer.



*



Blood is everywhere, bursting from my nose and dribbling out of my mouth in warm spurts. I try press my nose, my hands cupped over my face but the blood runs between my fingers. I’m swallowing blood, choking on it.