But I couldn’t convince myself of that. Munin was back. People were dying. And my dreams . . .
I didn’t want to go there. I didn’t want to explore it. I couldn’t change anything—I couldn’t bring anyone back. All I could do was keep my head down and try to stay calm, to keep myself out of it. Soon I would graduate and this would all be behind me and I could—what?—run somewhere else?
You can’t run forever, a voice whispered in the shadows of my mind. It has already begun.
I wanted to scream back that nothing had begun. I was stressed. That was it. I was stressed and other people were stressed and that caused bad things to happen. That was it. I wasn’t going to open the door looming in front of me. I wasn’t going to invite Munin back in.
Not when I knew what that would entail.
As a last resort, I opened a book and took out my tiny flashlight. American Civ. Nothing put me to sleep faster than American history. And I had an essay due Friday.
? ? ?
My next moment of consciousness was Elisa throwing a pillow at my face.
“Rise and shine, pooper,” she said. Not nearly with her usual conviction though. She sounded as tired as I felt. “How’d you sleep?”
I grumbled and kept my eyes closed. She sat down beside me.
“I’ll take that as insomnia,” she said, tapping on the book. “Unless you’re looking for a new pillow.”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“Are you turning your bed into a work of art now too?”
I opened one eye. Charcoal was smeared into my sheets (which were normally a very cute toy cowboy print) and probably blurred my face like some garish mascara. At least I’d hidden the sketchbook back in the drawer where it belonged. Elisa would have freaked if she saw it.
“Late-night inspiration,” I lied, and pushed myself to sitting. Now that it was light, I was able to see just how much charcoal I’d gotten everywhere. My bed looked like a firepit. Only slight exaggeration.
“Well, maybe make that your last. Unless you want to get vinyl sheets, which I think would require special explaining to the RA.”
I tried to smile. The fact that she was attempting a sense of humor after everything was heartening.
Technically speaking, we should have been in class today, but we’d been given another day to mourn, which meant another day of finishing homework and trying to do everything but think about what had happened.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Seven thirty. Breakfast.”
I groaned. I wasn’t hungry in the slightest. My stomach roiled from leftover dreams and my mouth tasted like charcoal—probably because I accidentally ate some in my sleep. Elisa seemed to catch my train of thought, or maybe my expression when I licked my lips, because she grinned and rustled my hair.
“You should probably rinse off first. You look like a panda.”
“Thanks friend,” I said as sarcastically as I could.
I stood and started toward the bathroom, but her next words stopped me.
“Hey, Kaira?”
I turned. “Yeah?”
“Do you remember anything about last night?”
“Besides the part where I didn’t sleep?”
She nodded.
“No,” I said slowly. “Why?”
“Because you woke me up. Maybe around three. You were thrashing and screaming.”
My skin went cold. Was that before or after the ghost sketching?
“Yeah?”
She nodded. Her face looked paler than usual. Scared. Her black dress and leggings didn’t help.
“Yeah,” she said. “You kept saying it’s dying.”
“I . . .” But I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t remember screaming that. The image from my sketch burned into my brain: “The Tree Will Burn.” But what the hell did that even mean? And how were my friends involved in all of this? That was the world of gods and demons, and that world didn’t blend with mine. Not any longer. “I’m sorry. Bad dreams I guess. Sorry if it woke you up.”
She shrugged and looked out the window. As usual, the windowsill outside was a churned mess of snow and bird prints.
“It’s okay. Nightmares are to be expected. I haven’t slept well either.” When she looked back to me, her face was carefully composed, a smile that was only believable because she was an actor. And only unbelievable to me because I was her roommate. “It’s just a sign of the times.”
? ? ?
Although Elisa and I walked through the snow to breakfast together, she didn’t join us at the table.