I had the dream again. I was staring blankly down at my work table, the ointment I was working on forgotten as my brain replayed the feeling of my skin burning. Sound of the screams in the background, telling me I had failed someone. I couldn’t shake the feeling this dream had actually been about me. It was rare that I had a vision of my own future. And there wasn’t anything about this one that actually said it was about me, just a feeling I had in my gut.
The bell over the door of my shop rang, and I jumped at the sound of it, then blew out a breath, trying to calm my racing heart. It had been three days since the Drakesworn had shown up and tied Lamier to the platform in the town square, lying in the blood of his wife and unborn child, to be tortured for three days. I hadn’t dared to so
