Читать книгу Midnight - Derek Landy - Страница 17

Valkyrie woke and lay there, scrabbling for the last threads of a departing dream. It was almost within her grasp – a normal dream, this time – when her thoughts tumbled in, filled her head, sent the dream scattering. She reached for the bottle of water by the bed, found it empty. Her throat was parched.

She got up. It was cold. She pulled on her bathrobe, tied it and hugged herself as she unlocked her bedroom door. The landing was dark. Her fingers trailed across the wall, finding the three light switches. She pressed the middle one. The light came on downstairs. Hugging herself again, she went down, narrowing her eyes against the glare until she was used to it.

She left the light, walked through the gloom to the kitchen. She could see well enough. Xena raised her head when she stepped in, just to check, and then went back to sleep. Valkyrie smiled at her, opened the fridge as quietly as possible, took a bottle of water and turned to go. Abyssinia stood watching her.

Valkyrie yelled in shock and dropped the water, white lightning crackling around her fingertips. Xena leaped up, barking, came running over, ignoring Abyssinia entirely to sniff at Valkyrie’s legs, tail wagging with sudden excitement. Abyssinia looked away, her mouth moving, holding a conversation Valkyrie couldn’t hear with somebody she couldn’t see.

Valkyrie let the energy die. Abyssinia was looking down, not at Valkyrie at all. Valkyrie was seeing her, but she wasn’t seeing Valkyrie. She started to fade. In seconds, she was gone.

Valkyrie slid down to the floor, her back against the fridge. Xena came and sat beside her, then laid her head across Valkyrie’s lap. Her fur was warm and soft and reassuring.

“Good girl,” Valkyrie whispered. “Everything’s going to be all right. Good girl.”

She reached for the bottle of water, and took a swig.

She stayed like that until the sun came up.