CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Pom appears at my elbow. “Hey! How’re things going?”
Usually I wouldn’t worry the little guy, but since his fate is tied to mine, I give him the bad news—and as I speak, he turns ever-darker shades of black.
“It’s so unfair,” he says when I finish. “You did your best for them.”
My hair goes fiery without my conscious direction. “Don’t get me started.”
Pom’s huge, lavender eyes turn overly bright, his fur lightening to gray—a rare color signifying deep sadness. “I don’t want them to hurt you. Can you take me to their dreams? Maybe if I beg, they’ll change their minds.”
My chest tightens. My looft is clearly more worried about me than himself. I fluff his fur. “I don’t think that would work, but you just gave me an idea. Before they execute me, I’ll tell them about
