I stood a few paces behind him, staring at the blue banners on the town houses, the moon and stars and the promise of mountains, waiting for them to melt away, for the nightmare had been championed. But the banners remained as stubborn fixtures, and the flagstones and the duke’s chair refused to fade. The elements of the nightmare were firm and solid in the street.

Something wasn’t right.

Phelan was breathing heavily behind me. When I glanced over my shoulder, I saw he was still staring at Knox and his wife, their bodies refusing to vanish on the stones, and I had a sickening thought that perhaps it had all been real, that Phelan and I had in some way been fooled.

Had there been more to the dream, and Knox Birch had failed to divulge it to Phelan?

“Mr. Vesper . . .”

My voice died with the wind. The world around us became silent and still, as if we were trapped in a painting of a forgotten place, and then I heard it—the clink of armored feet approaching. A heavy, methodical gait that made the flagstones tremble beneath me. Silvered footsteps I had once heard before in a dream that didn’t belong to me, but a dream I had divined.

“My gods,” I whispered. It felt like a bone was wedged in my throat as I waited for the knight of Elle Fielding’s dream to appear, his footsteps growing louder, louder, the dream rippling around me like it was under duress.

I forgot where I stood, where I was. I forgot about Phelan at my back, my entire being focused on this inevitable meeting.

And then the knight appeared, the fog swirling around him.

I had only seen his legs and feet in Elle’s dream, when she had been crouched beneath the wagon. Now I beheld his entire self, fully covered in steel-plated armor that was splashed with blood. He was tall and broad as he walked with purpose, striding toward us. But it was not the blood or the long sword that he unsheathed at his side that coaxed my horror. It was the helm he wore, a helmet forged with tapers at its brow. Seven sharp points crowned him. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I felt his piercing gaze.

Terror held me until I felt a warm hand take hold of my arm, drawing me back.

“Get behind me, Miss Neven,” Phelan said.

As soon as I felt his presence, his magic’s illumination overlapped with mine and bolstered my courage. I inhaled a deep breath, flexing my hand.

We walked backward in unison, to give ourselves more time to hammer a plan together. The knight followed with his steady pace; he seemed fixed on that gait. He couldn’t run, but neither could he slow. We were faster but he was persistent, and I was uncertain about his weakness.