Shadowed (Unbound, Book 2)

Chapter Forty Five

           

The room I entered was dark, black and cold, and so vast it seemed to span endlessly without walls to mask its perimeter. A single light shone from above, directly in the center, to illuminate a podium made from polished, twisting silver that stood out with a welcoming glow. In the emptiness surrounding me, it was the only thing present. On its top was a white book, thick and bright.

I looked around, finding no one, and then ran into the light to step onto the base of the podium. My hand hovered. The book was obviously old, bound by leather and covered with silver depictions of Celtic symbols—a knot, a tree, a butterfly, and corner embroidery made of more knots. So simple, but endless. If I allowed myself what I wanted and touched it, I was afraid it would somehow be ruined, tainted by my touch.

"Go ahead. Open it," a gruff voice ordered, echoing through the darkness.

My head jerked up. I dropped my hands back to my sides and turned to glance in every direction, but nobody was there. Listening, I held my breath and tried to order my heart to cease pounding. It was as futile as seeing through the darkness that trapped me.

"The book can't be harmed, Nora."

But I can. I looked to my right, thinking that's where the voice originated, but when faced with nothing, I was unsure.

"You don't have a lot of time, Nora," the voice said, softer this time. "Open the book."

Balling my fists at my sides, I turned left. "Who the hell are you?"

"A friend," the man said softly. An accent, possibly British, entered his voice.

"I am not opening anything! Do you think I'm stupid?" I rolled my eyes. "Come on."

"It's a dream, Nora. What can it hurt?" Now whoever was speaking seemed to be laughing at me, which made me just as uncomfortable as when it was trying to coax me.

I squared my shoulders and sucked in a deep breath, then bellowed, "Well, you seem to think it'll do something, so you tell me."

"I'm glad to hear your attitude hasn't changed."

My breath whooshed out of my lungs, making me feel light-headed. Hasn't changed? Who the hell was this man? Did he think I was stupid? Open the book, Nora. Yeah, right. Even in a dream, I wasn't naïve. Sure, this was the most vivid dream I could remember—ever—and didn't run me in circles, making me think I was crazy. But he had to be insane if I was going to do something because an unknown voice said it was okay. That was tantamount to taking ice cream from a stranger!

"Show me who you are, and I will do as you ask, okay?" Lifting my chin, I looked around again and raised my eyebrow. "I will open the damn book then. Deal?"

Silence greeted my offer but lasted only long enough for me to doubt it would be accepted. I stared in the direction I thought the man had spoken from last, unblinking. A minute passed. Then a pair of blue eyes appeared, low to the ground. I took a step back and gasped as a face appeared, and then a body covered in black fur and a swishing tail.

"Opal won't hurt you," the man said, stepping out of the shadows behind the wolf, dressed in a soft grey suit that hung on his frail frame. "She is a good dog, just like Onyx, and is trained to obey commands."

Opal, Opal, Opal...

Why was that so familiar?

The man came closer to the light. His frame was rail-thin and shadows cast from the jutting bones in his face like bruises without any swelling. Every step appeared laborious, but his eyes, blue and bright, remained clear. No matter how he appeared, he exuded power and intelligence.