Journey Into Nyx by Jenna Helland Page A

Nikka was having none of her sympathy. She shook off Elspeth’s arm and stalked into the entry room.
    “Where are you going?” Elspeth called to Nikka. She looked at Daxos and Anthousa. “Should we follow her?”
    “I’m going for a walk!” Nikka screamed back.
    Anthousa shook her head. “Let her be. In Setessa we would put a difficult adolescent to work or send her on a very arduous errand in the forest. Maybe you should consider that tomorrow.”
    “Is it safe?” Elspeth asked Anthousa.
    “I’ll take something to protect me,” shouted Nikka, who had been eavesdropping from the other room. “Leave me alone!”
    “There’s not an enemy for miles,” Anthousa said.
    “She’s all right,” Daxos whispered. “I think her father’s inattention hurt her most of all.”
    There was a thud as Nikka fumbled with something heavy. She tried valiantly to slam the canvas door of the tent. And then she was gone.
    “It’s the sense of letdown after a battle,” Anthousa said. “Young people have a harder time with the pendulum of emotions.”
    “She’ll probably stroll by the dancers and end up having fun,” Daxos said.
    “Speaking of dancing,” Anthousa said. She was suddenly in a hurry to leave. “I have a deep fondness for Akroan pipes and lyres. If you’ll excuse me …”
    As soon as Anthousa left, Daxos came and sat beside Elspeth. They’d barely had any time to talk since he’d returned from the gorge with the sad news of Cymede. She leaned against him, and he put his arm around her shoulders.
    “Did I tell you I’m glad you’re alive?” he said.
    “I was going to say the same thing to you,” she replied.
    “Do you want to go out there?” he asked. “Dance to the pipes?”
    “Not really,” she said. “I can hear the music fine from here.”
    “Do you want to talk?” he asked. His hand rested lightly on the back of her neck. She turned to him, and he grinned at her. It was an anything-is-okay-with-me grin. She took a deep breath and smiled back. Suddenly, it was like everything in the world made sense.
    “I don’t want to talk,” Elspeth said. “Not even a little bit.”
    She was the one who reached for him.

    Outside the noise of the revel grew louder and louder. It sounded oddly systematic, almost as if it had a heartbeat of its own. The ebb and flow of raucous laughter sounded contrived, but Elspeth couldn’t pinpoint how, or why. Through a cacophony of wails and twisted laughter, her surroundings came into gradual focus. Daxos was beside her, asleep. They lay tangled together on the couch. The hour seemed late. It had been early evening when Nikka had stormed out of the tent, but now it felt like the darkest hour before dawn.
    She wondered if she should sit up, but she didn’t have the will to do so. She tried to shake Daxos, but her touch was like a kitten’s whiskers against his arm. The air was tinged with spellcasting. Someone had affected her and Daxos with powerful magic. Had Nikka done another sleep spell like that disastrous day on the caravan? The girl had been upset and angry, but why would she do something like this? Besides, a sleep spell wouldn’t control the music or the escalating thud of dancers’ feet. It was more powerful than Nikka, and whatever it was, it sounded frantic and unhinged. Beside her, Daxos stirred and mumbled something. Elspeth tried to inch closer to hear him.
    “Will you stay with me?” he whispered. His lips barely moved.
    She wanted to answer. She wanted to say: Forever. I’ll stay with you forever. But something was wrong. Elspeth felt as though she’d drunk a flask of wine, but she’d had nothing but water. Her face was pressed into the pillow, and it felt too heavy to lift. It was as if a second, invisible skin immobilized her in an ethereal cocoon. She heard the canvas door open, and someone entered the tent. The inability to move, or even to sit up and look around, made her panic. She wanted to flail, to thrash, to rip open the