I took up my quill and ink and recorded the nightmare swiftly in the book. My hand trembled; my penmanship was slanted and riddled with blots. Papa would no doubt notice later when he read it and asked me why this nightmare bothered me so badly.

“Well?” Spruce Fielding prodded when I had finished the recording, shutting the tome.

I looked up. “Well what?”

“What was the dream? Why won’t she speak? Was it truly so frightening?”

I didn’t reply. I began to gather my things, shrinking them back into my pocket until I remembered the remedies. I had brought five, and I withdrew the glass vials as I stood from the couch.

A swallowed remedy kept dreams at bay for an entire day. The good ones as well as the frightening ones. If drunk before bed, a person would experience a tranquil sleep. An inner fog, culled of dreams. Like my sleep, every single night.

I handed the first one to Elle. Then I moved to Elizabeth and gave her a vial. Next, the oldest sister in the kitchen. And lastly, I enchanted the remaining two remedies to float up to the loft, where the roosted sisters continued to observe. They reached out in awe when the vials hovered before them.

“I didn’t ask for any remedies,” Spruce said, wringing his hat again. “I can’t pay for them. Why did you—”

“I know you didn’t ask for them,” I cut him off, weary. I smiled one last time at Elle and Jane Fielding before turning to leave. “I give them to your daughters freely, but I would like a word with you, sir.”

Spruce followed me outside into the yard. The sun had already set behind the mountains and the shadows were long and cool. Dusk was coming, and I felt the urge to get home as quickly as I could.

“I know what you’re going to say, Miss Clem,” he said.

I arched a brow. “Oh? And what is that, Mr. Fielding?”

He raked his hands through his thin hair. “My daughters shouldn’t be playing Seven Wraiths. I know your father disapproves of the game. I know it makes his work that much harder, with nightmares sprouting up like weeds, thanks to the cards being dealt. But I can’t keep my daughters from playing it. They’re of Seren ancestry; both my and Jane’s families hail from the mountains. And so my daughters will continue to play the game, even with the threat of nightmares, just as Jane and I once did. Because we long for home, even as it lies in ruins, doomed. Even as we have never seen it with our own eyes. Only in dreams do we behold it.”