She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, feeling Niamh shivering with fear behind her.
"Close your eyes, Niamh. If you're scared."
Niamh squeezed Lyse's hand, letting her know that she had.
"What do we do?" she asked Lyse. "It's all around us."
Lyse swallowed back her own fear. She had to be strong for Niamh, but it was hard to be the hero when you just wanted to curl up into a ball and hide. She returned Niamh's squeeze, her own palm slick with nervous sweat.
"We're gonna take a page from the Greek myths-we're gonna make ourselves some wings and fly," Lyse said.
She focused her mind like a scalpel, willing it to do the delicate work she needed. There was a slight pinch at the apex of each of her shoulder blades, and then a searing hot pain danced across the flesh of her back, rippling out from her shoulders.
"What's happening?" Niamh asked her. "Are you okay?"
Lyse hadn't realized she'd cried out-but then she heard herself give another whimper as she felt the wings begin to extend out of her skin. She bit back pain as muscle and flesh tore apart and rearranged inside her.
"Okay . . ." She gasped, the pain exquisitely intense. "Just . . . a few more . . . seconds."
She heard-then felt-something snap into place above her, and though she could hardly see them, she'd imagined the wings into being, knew exactly what they looked like.
"That tickles," Niamh said, and Lyse felt her friend push away the white feathers brushing her nose.
Lyse turned so the flat of her back was to Niamh.
"Hold tight to me," she said, then grunted as Niamh wrapped her arms around her neck.
Lyse wasn't sure what would happen if they lost their connection and her borrowed ability to manipulate the dreamlands disappeared. She tried not to think about it. Instead, she felt the wings unfurl around her, their weight pulling down on her back and shoulders. The feathers themselves were light, but strung all together in such a mass of fluff and keratin, they were heavy and unwieldy.
"You know Icarus flew too close to the sun and died," Niamh whispered in her ear. "Be careful. You can die here in the dreamlands, too."
Lyse knew she was right, but, at that moment, she didn't feel like there was another choice to be made.
Take us out of here, wings, she thought-and she felt them extend into the air.
In seconds, she was buoyant, her feet floating a few inches above the safety of the stairs. She hovered in place for a few moments, trying to adjust to the strangeness of the new experience. Then, satisfied she could control her wings, she took off, carrying Niamh with her up through the atmosphere and into the rain-heavy clouds.
• • •
They sailed through the air for what felt like an eternity. Lyse navigated them through the desertscape, soaring high enough that she was able to bypass the spindly spires of burnt red stone. She knew she couldn't hide up in the clouds forever, but it was the first time in weeks she'd felt even a little safe.
She loved the sensation of flying. Was quickly addicted to the utter freedom she felt as she glided over the outcroppings of rough-hewn rock, layers upon layers of faded gradations of orange and brown and red stone all stacked together like a complicated game of Jenga.
You can't stay up here forever.
It was Eleanora's voice in her head. More and more her subconscious had adopted her grandmother as the voice of reason, gently reminding her to get back on track whenever she ventured too far from the path of what needed to be done.
You're wasting time. Get the girl back to where she belongs. This is your fight and yours alone.
She knew the voice was right. She'd been dodging her fate. This was her battle to win or lose . . . and having one of her blood sisters there would only slow her down, make it impossible for her to act. She'd be too worried about Niamh getting hurt, and that would give The Flood the advantage.
They were far away from where the wave had almost caught them when Lyse felt safe enough to touch back down on land. She didn't say anything to Niamh, just slowly began her descent, aiming for one of the larger towers of rock.
"Is something wrong?" Niamh murmured, speaking close to Lyse's ear. "Why are we going down to the rocks?"
Lyse didn't answer until her feet had touched down on solid ground. She waited for Niamh to let go of her, severing their physical contact and causing the wings to vanish.
"Why did you do that?" Niamh asked, reaching for Lyse's arm.
"You can't come with me," Lyse said. "I know what Thomas said, but it's not your journey, Niamh."