The Tears of Elios by Crista McHugh

hard ground. “Go to sleep now.”
    He closed his eyes, but he still felt her watching him.
    The stars had moved halfway across the sky, and the fire had gone cold when a cry awoke him. The air smelled of approaching rain, confirmed by the rolling clouds to the east. He heard nothing and had almost convinced himself that he was dreaming when he heard her cry out again.
    Kira rolled onto her back with the moan, her eyes clenched tight. “No,” she whined and batted at some invisible object above her. “No, stop.” Her shouts became louder as her movements grew more frantic. She thrashed in her sleep, ripping her cloak as it became tangled in her arms and legs. “Leave me alone. Go away!”
    He caught her arms, surprised at the strength her thin body possessed. She whimpered, still prisoner of her dream. “Kira, it's just a nightmare,” he whispered.
    Her movements became more wild, building to a crescendo that ended with her sitting up with a scream that echoed off the silent mountains. Her eyes were open, but she stared past him. Her panting slowed, and her body became less rigid as she realized the nightmare had ended. Only then did she become aware that he was kneeling beside her.
    “I'm sorry. I—I didn't mean to wake you. It's just that the dream…” She shuddered, the fear still haunting her eyes. “It was so horrible.”
    An elvan woman would never act this way, wearing her emotions on her face for everyone to see. Yet he found himself reaching his arms around her shaking frame and pulling her close to him. Her hot breath felt as though it was blistering his skin as he stroked her hair.
    “I'm sorry,” she repeated. “I saw the Azekborn chasing someone, and—”
    He shoved her away, keeping his hands on her shoulders. “You were dreaming about the Azekborn?” She nodded. “How do you even know what the Azekborn look like? You're just a human.”
    “They came after us—Master Tyrrus and me. They found where we were in Dromore and were about to catch us when we came through the gate.”
    His mind kept telling him that this is all nonsense. Why would the Azekborn come after a human? But when he looked into her eyes, he knew she was telling the truth. And her tale held some plausibility to it, considering the mission of the men that Tyrrus helping. If Anilayus knew about the gate, then there was a chance he knew where the camp was. “Why didn't Tyrrus tell me that it was the Azekborn that found you?”
    “I thought he did. Why wouldn’t he tell you? They were horrible—the most terrifying creatures I could imagine, and I can't seem to be free of them.” She closed her eyes and leaned back on her hands. “It was like I was seeing things through their eyes. I don't know any other way to explain it.”
    He struggled to make sense of it all. “Why would you be dreaming about the Azekborn?”
    She shrugged. “I see things in my dreams. Sometimes they’re things that have happened. Sometimes they’re things that are happening or will happen. I never know. This was the second time I dreamed about the Azekborn, though. The first time was the night we left Dromore.”
    “And what were they doing?”
    “Fighting off a pack of wolves.” She looked up at him. “I know it sounds crazy, but that's what I saw. My visions usually make sense once I sort out what I'm seeing.”
    “And these visions—are they a part of your gift?”
    “Yes, but I wish they weren't. I hate the things I see sometimes.”
    “They're just dreams. They can't hurt you.”
    “I tell myself that, but it still doesn't stop me from waking up screaming.” She pulled her knees up to her chest and rocked back and forth as she sat. “Go back to sleep, Galen. I'm sorry I woke you.”
    “What about you? You need to sleep, too.”
    “No, I can't sleep anymore tonight.”
    The unexpected urge to shelter her filled him. Normally, he would have been disgusted by her display of emotions, but he realized he was pushing her to do things