The air around her flickered with invisible, powerful energy she could feel as the Oneroi appeared.
Standing close to seven feet tall, M'Adoc dwarfed her—something she knew from experience. Even though she couldn't see him right now, she knew exactly what he looked like. His long black hair would be so dark it barely reflected light and his eyes were so pale a blue they looked almost colorless and appeared to glow.
Like all of his kind, he was so handsome that for those who could see, it was hard to even look at him.
"Little cousin," he said, his voice electrifying and seductive and yet devoid of emotion—since emotions were banned from the Oneroi. "It's been a while. At least three or four hundred years."
She nodded. "I've been busy."
He reached out to touch her arm so that she would know where he was standing. "What do you need?"
"Do you know anything about the Dark-Hunter Zarek?" The Oneroi were often healers of the Dark-Hunters, both physically and mentally. Since Dark-Hunters were created from people who had been horribly wronged or violated, a Dream-Hunter was often assigned to newly created Dark-Hunters to help heal them mentally so that they could function in the world without hurting others.
Once the Dark-Hunter was well mentally, the Dream-Hunter would then follow them through time and help heal them physically whenever they were wounded. That was why Dark-Hunters felt an unearthly need to sleep whenever they were hurt.
Only in dreams were the Oneroi effective.
"I knowof him.
"
She waited for an explanation, but when he didn't elaborate, she asked, "What do you know?
"
"That he is so far beyond help that none of my kind will aid him.
"
She had never heard of such a thing before. "Never?
"
"Sometimes a Skotos will go to him while he sleeps, but they only go so that they can take some of his fury for their own. It is so intense that none of them can stand it for long before they have to leave, too."
Astrid was stunned. The Skoti were barely more than demons. Brothers and sisters to the Oneroi, they preyed upon human emotion and used it so that they could feel emotions again. Left unchecked, the Skoti
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Instead of soothing Zarek, a visit from one would only escalate his madness.
"Why is he like this? What fuels his rage?"
"What does it matter?" M'Adoc asked. "I am told he has been marked for death."
"I promised Acheron that I would judge him first. He will only die if I say so."
"Then you should save yourself the trouble and order his death."
Why did everyone want Zarek to die? She couldn't understand such animosity toward him. No wonder the man acted the way he did.
Did anyone evenlike him?
Not once in all eternity had M'Adoc ever spoken so harshly about anyone. "This isn't like you."
She heard him take a deep breath as he tensed the hand on her shoulder. "A rabid dog cannot be saved, Astrid. It is best for everyone, including the dog, for it to be put down."
"Shadedom would be preferable to living? Areyou insane?
"
"In Zarek's case, it would be.
"
She was aghast. "If that were true, Acheron would be merciful to him and wouldn't have asked me to judge him.
"
"Acheron doesn't kill him because it would be too much like killing himself.
"
She thought about that for a minute. "What do you mean? I see nothing similar in them at all.
"
She had the impression M'Adoc was probing her mind with his. "They have a lot in common, Acheron and Zarek. Things that most people can't see or understand. I think Acheron feels that if Zarek can't be saved, then neither can he.
"
"Saved from what?
"
"Himself. Both men have a tendency to choose their own pain. They just don't choose it wisely.
"
Astrid felt something odd on hearing those words. A tiny stabbing ache in her stomach. Something she hadn't felt in a long time. She actually hurt for both men.
Most of all, she hurt for Zarek.
"How do they choose their own pain?
"
M'Adoc refused to elaborate. But then, he did that a lot. Dealing with the gods of sleep was only one step less frustrating than dealing with an oracle.
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"M'Adoc, show me why Zarek has been abandoned by everyone.
"
"I don't think you want—
"
"Show me," she insisted. She had to know, and deep down she suspected it didn't have as much to do with her job as she wanted to think. Her need to know felt more personal than professional.
His voice was totally emotionless. "It's against the rules.
"
"Whatever the repercussion, I will bear it. Now show me. Please.
"
M'Adoc had her sit on the bed.