Relic and Ruin

CHAPTER TWO

ONEIROPHOBIA – FEAR OF DREAMS

Chasity Lahey glared at her cousin from the end of the table. Curly blond hair stuck out around her face. Purple seer eyes nestled deep underneath dark brows. She had a blanket around her shoulders, hands wrapped around a mug of brewing herbs, and was surrounded by lit candles. And she was staring at Nyx.

Behind her, in the kitchen, Nyx's mother and her sisters were crowded around the sink. They wore their long, winter pajamas; curls all out and filling the space between each other. To the left of them, the sun had just begun to rise over the treetops, streaming through the kitchen window. Normally, the entire house would still be sound asleep—her mother's sisters and their seven daughters, Nyx's cousins.

But today was not a normal day.

At 3:37 that morning, Chasity had woken the entire household screaming bloody murder.

Nyx wasn't even fully awake when she swung out of bed and sprinted down the hall, Bjørn hot on her heels. Standing in the open doorway was Eris, the eldest cousin. She looked over her shoulder at Nyx, tired eyes so wide they were frightening.

Inside, Chasity continued to scream, while the voices of Nyx's mother, father, and aunts all spoke over her, trying to calm her down.

Nyx's father and Chasity's mother, Maura, held Chasity by her hands and feet as she lashed about on the bed, eyes glazed.

"Holy shit," Eris yelled, stepping away from the door. "Do we need to call, like, an exorcist or something?"

Maura looked up, panting from the struggle. "This is no time for jokes, Eris Lahey!"

"Please, Eris." Nyx's father looked up from his task. "Can you go and get some hot water and a towel? She's all clammy."

Eris nodded and, with one last look at Chasity writhing on the bed, bolted down the staircase. At age three, Chasity had been confirmed as having the seer strain, which her mother had also inherited. For the next fifteen years, Chasity could be found bent over a potions book, wiping a blown concoction from her clothes, or accidentally setting the drapes on fire as she trained.

But what no one had mentioned in the job description were the night terrors.

They'd started after her twelfth birthday, happening every six months or so. They shook Chasity to her very core. She wouldn't speak, wouldn't eat, wouldn't venture from her bed for days.

But they'd never been this bad.

Chasity's screaming was torturous, desperate. Around her, the bedroom was in complete disarray: pillows and quilts thrown to the floor, a lamp smashed, fingernail scratches in the bedside table.

Chasity's younger sister, Hunting, with whom she shared a room, clung to Nyx's mother.

Eris rushed back in with a bucket of steaming water and a terry-cloth towel. Christophe took the damp towel and put it to Chasity's face. "Chazz," he said, trying to get her attention. "Chazz, can you hear me?"

Chasity continued to scream so loudly Nyx felt the pressure between her ears begin to build.

"Chazz! Come on, darl, just listen to me—"

Chasity stopped almost instantly, staring at Nyx's father with wide eyes. Without so much as a blink, she snapped her head in Nyx's direction and, in two unnaturally quick movements, shoved Chris aside and was on her knees, perched at the end of the mattress, inches from Nyx's face.

"I know you have it, Nyx. Where is it?" she demanded.

In her peripheral vision, Nyx saw her mother looking at her.