I tugged her hand and hurried over to the middle of the garden where all of the flowers were white. I recognized them instantly. Royce always, always had a garden just for his sister filled with flowers that only bloomed beneath the moon’s light. There were Night Phlox, moon flowers, night-blooming jasmine, and even the delicate pink and white evening primrose.

Savannah inhaled deeply through her nose, then sighed happily. “Ma’am, smell those gardenias? That’s strong for a dream.”

That made me smile. “Royce insists they smell stronger at night.”

“And Royce is always right,” a familiar voice said from behind us.

When we turned, we found Royce leaning against a small gargoyle statue. My stomach sank. Even in his dream form those sapphire eyes were haunted and the markings around his throat were deep purple.

I smiled and crouched down to his eye level. “Hey there, Poison Roycy. How you doing?”

“Well, I can talk, apparently.” He sighed wistfully. But then he spotted Savannah and his eyes sparkled. “And you’ve got company. I like that for you.”

“I’m not sure I like it for me,” Savannah said with a nervous chuckle, her accent thicker than mud. “He sees some wild shit.”

“But never in Royce’s dreams.” I pointed to the moon. “Riah says she’s okay⁠—”

“I know. But still.” He closed his eyes and lay down on the dirt with flowers popping up all around him. “There’s nothing useful in my dreams for you right now. Just worry, lots of worry. But can you do me a favor?”

“What do you need?”

“I’ve wanted to ask but I can’t speak when awake so . . .” he grimaced, “. . . Thiago. Check Thiago.”

“We’ll go there next. Rest, my friend.” I reached down and squeezed his shoulder.

“Oh, and Royce?” Savannah waited until he opened his eyes and looked at her, then she smiled. “We don’t need your voice to be able to hear you, understood?”

He smiled and nodded, then drifted back to sleep.

“Is it weird for them to fall asleep while asleep?”

I chuckled and reclaimed her hand in mine. “No, it’s how the mind works. He’s either drifting into a new dream or no dream at all. For him, I pray for the latter.”

“Now into the shadows of the Hanged Man?”

“My, my, Miss Savannah, are you afraid of the dark?”

“Boy, I will eat you for dinner. Quit playin,” she hissed and smacked my arm playfully. “I don’t fear the dark, I fear what we’ll see.”

That made me pause. “Do you know?”

She cringed. “Yes. Don’t make me tell you. Valathame promised him they felt nothing and they’re at peace.”

Goosebumps spread across my body. “Have you . . . spoken to whoever it is?”

She was already shaking her head. “I’m not in the market of disturbing souls at peace for no reason.”