She took one of his hands between both of hers, spreading his delicate fingers apart. The palm was seared a pale white.
“You’ve stopped dreaming, Sekenre. This is the waking world now.” She squeezed his hand until he winced.
He made no reply, but drew away from her, sat up once more, then folded his hands together. When he opened them, blue flames flickered from his palms.
“Ah,” she said, certain she had been afforded some profound insight, if only her thoughts could quite encompass it. It was like a distant mountain glimpsed through fog.
He closed his hands and the flames vanished.
“Sekenre,” she said, once more considering every word with painstaking deliberation before speaking it. “I helped you this far, and I shall help you further. Will you, in return, help me?”
He affixed her
