“No need.” At the silent question she fired in his direction, he said, “I’ll be using the front door. Our host should be more than happy to accept our coin for his silence.” With that, he reached down and let Errol scurry into his hand, and then opened the door.

Shim

Shim had never planned to lie to Soraya. Deceit between Guardians was the very opposite of what was expected of such partnerships. But what was the harm? Just the thought of telling her about the dream he’d been having ever since they left the Rocklands made him feel idiotic. It was just a dream, after all. And yet for some strange reason he couldn’t get the damn thing out of his head. And the more he tried to not think about it, the more he thought about it, a maddening cycle that made him want to clamp his fangs down on something living and not let go until they stopped moving.

It was an impulse he was saving for a certain nightdemon that had been terrorizing a certain small town on the outskirts of Lostwood.

Even as he made his way down the tavern’s steps, the dream reared its frustrating head again. Narcissi’s golden-imbued form, standing before him. Not as the majestic, powerful tree She’d grown into, but as the godsform She’d once been, Her hair like the wind itself, Her eyes like tiny, roiling storms, Her body the shape of water falling from a cliff, bathed in sunlight. Her voice like blades of lightning, sharp and demanding, so different than the soothing tones She’d offered every other time She’d spoken to him. Protect her! You must protect her! Everything depends on her survival! They will soon return! And when they do, Finfalla will drown in blood! And then Narcissi had opened Her mouth in a silent scream, the hinges of Her jaws rotating unnaturally far, until Her maw was a whirlpool of swirling golden spirals, dragging him in. He clawed and scraped at the ground, but it was fruitless, his strength no match for that of the Goddess of the Wood.

The dream always ended at that point, just when he thought he was done for, about to be devoured by the deity he’d lived most of his life to protect.

“Is there something else you needed? Hot water?”

Shim blinked, realizing he’d reached the bottom of the staircase and then stopped. How long had he been standing there like a damn fool? The tavern’s proprietor was staring in his direction holding a broom in midair, like he’d been interrupted from his sweeping by Shim’s sudden appearance.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Shim said, blinking long and hard to clear the remaining cobwebs. “For the young woman upstairs. I, on the other hand, am going out.”

“There is a curfew.”

“I understand. I am risking only myself.” He fought off the urge to scratch his belly. His unshed skin was beginning to itch. After tonight, he would need to peel it the rest of the way free and then enjoy a long, well-deserved basking session.