The Tattooed Heart: A Messenger of Fear Novel. Майкл Грант
tattoo-vivant marks of the horrors he had seen and made to happen.
I did not, in my dream, look at the single such terrible decoration that now marked my own body. I never looked at that, not in dreams, and only reluctantly in reality.
But in my dream Messenger did not look at me as I looked at him. Instead he whispered a single word. The crashing waves tore that word from his lips, but I knew in my heart that what he had said was, “Ariadne.”
Ariadne, not Mara. Nor could it ever be Mara.
I think I cried in my sleep then, though I remember no dream, for my pillow was damp upon waking.
“It’s time,” Messenger said, but he was no longer the laughing boy by the ocean. He was back, looming above me, the real Messenger of Fear, grim and relentless.
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