Sleeper Of The Wildwood Fugue (Book 7) by Charles E. Yallowitz Page B

champion with respect because she is not entirely lost to us. I will always hold out hope that she will realize her true role in these events.”
    “She hit me first,” Stephen childishly growls.
    “You broke my arm yesterday,” Dariana retorts.
    “Only because you turned my eyesight off last week.”
    “You locked me in a room with my dead friends.”
    Stephen laughs, cringing at the pain in his shattered nose. “They weren’t your friends. I saw how they hated you because of what you are. Don’t start telling us that you cared about them any more than you care about a waitress who brings you your meal. Even that is being kind since she would serve a purpose in your life.”
    “Stop this nonsense!” the Baron shouts, shaking the entire continent. He clenches his fist and the branches around Stephen dissolve, allowing the nobleman to return to his seat. “This is one of the few events of the game that I get to enjoy. I will not have some childish fight ruin this moment. If you insist on killing each other then do it on the battlefield.”
    “Just kill me and let another rise to take my place,” Dariana begs, trembling under the Baron’s piercing gaze. She wipes her face with the back of her hand, a mixture of tears and mucus on her flawless skin. “I want this to be over. All I can do is wait in solitude for new champions and join them when Gabriel calls for me. His new hand doesn’t even like me, so he makes me wait so much longer than the last one.”
    “I understand your pain, child, but I cannot keep you here. It is against the rules,” the Baron whispers into her ear. He gives her a gentle kiss on the head before moving back to his seat and claiming a pomegranate from a porcelain bowl. “I am not blind to your suffering. If anything, I share your pain and anguish because I am trapped too. The Great Cataclysm gave me Shayd to rule over, but it is nothing more than a bigger prison. Many days I wish I could sleep and live within my dreams instead of eternally waiting for Gabriel’s pawns to prove worthy of the final battle.”
    “If you care so much then you should put her to sleep and make us the ones to bring her into the game,” Stephen suggests while repairing his face. Seeing the spark of curiosity in his father’s ebony eyes, he leans his elbows on the table and lets his guard down. “Let her dream in a forest where she can only be disturbed by the champions. Of course, we shouldn’t make this easy and Gabriel will have to figure out a way to get them through our barriers. I would recommend the Misty Fugue that you used to protect your northern treasure horde back in the old days. Not a lethal spell, but the predators can make easy meals of the amnesia-stricken victims. If our enemies decide to avoid her then we can wake her ourselves and deliver her to her new . . . friends.”
    “Excellent idea, Stephen. I trust you can handle it,” the Baron says with a smile. He takes a bite out of the fruit, reveling in the rare chance to taste something sweet. “Do you agree to this, dear? The alternative is wandering the world alone and waiting to be called on for another failure.”
    Dariana stands for the first time, her legs nearly giving out as she braces herself against the table. Gaining strength with every step, she slowly makes her way to Stephen and looks him in the eye. She smirks at the sweat beading on his forehead, but her confidence drops when he patronizingly pets her on the cheek. The girl moves away to glance around Shayd, her attention drawn to a band of chaos elves cowering under a rocky overhang. Pity and sorrow fill her heart, mixing with the fear and loneliness that have been her companions for decades. The thought of being lost in her own mind where she can block the pain of her past becomes too tempting for her to refuse.
    “I agree to this, but there will be no intrusions on your part,” Dariana states, extending her hand Stephen. “I will be left to my dreams and create