Chapter Six
Konrad’s sleep was unquiet.
He’d retired to bed as soon as Irinanda left, and he had fallen asleep immediately. Then he dreamed. The dream began with a deathly chill that seeped into his darkened bedroom, frost blooming over his furniture and ice creeping across the floor. It was familiar, this bone-cold feeling and the gut-wrenching fear that went with it.
The Malykt had come to visit.
In his dream, Konrad lay paralysed with terror, sweating in the biting cold air. He kept his eyes shut tight—not because he was afraid to look, but because there was nothing to see. The Malykt never manifested; He was merely a Presence.
You dally, My Malykant, came the wintry voice, stark with disapproval. Days have passed, and My lost souls have not returned to Me.
It was generous of his
