She stood. “You could help.”
“Me?” I frowned. “I haven’t bonded with a dragon. I’ve never even seen one. I thought they were imaginary.”
“In this time and place, they are,” Evanna agreed. “But there are other times and places, and bonds can be formed unknown.”
That didn’t make sense, but if I could somehow help Harkat, I would. “Tell me what I have to do,” I said.
Evanna smiled approvingly, then told me to lay my hands on Harkat’s head and close my eyes. “Focus,” she said. “We need to find an image for you to fix upon. How about the Stone of Blood? Can you picture it, red and throbbing, the blood of the vampires flowing through its mysterious veins?”
“Yes,” I said, bringing the stone effortlessly to mind.
“Keep thinking of it. In a few minutes you’ll experience unpleasant sensations, and maybe catch glimpses of Harkat’s nightmares. Ignore them and stay focused on the Stone. I will do the rest.”
I did as she said. At first it was easy, but then I began to feel strange. The air around me seemed to get hotter and it became harder to breathe. I heard the beating of immense wings, then caught a glimpse of something dropping from a blood-red sky. I cringed, almost let go of Harkat, but remembered Evanna’s advice and forced myself to focus on the image of the Stone of Blood.
I sensed something huge land behind me, and felt hot eyes boring into my back, but I didn’t turn or shrink away. I reminded myself that this was a dream, an illusion, and thought about the Stone.
Harkat appeared before me in the vision, stretched upon a bed of stakes, which impaled him all over. He was alive but in incredible pain. He couldn’t see me – the tips of two stakes poked out of the sockets where his eyes should have been.
“His pain is nothing to what you will feel,” someone said, and looking up I saw a figure of shadows, elusive and dark, hovering close by.
“Who are you?” I gasped, momentarily forgetting about the Stone.
“I am the Lord of the Crimson Night,” he replied mockingly.
“The Lord of the Vampaneze?” I asked.
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