Nightmare's Edge

by Bryan Davis

  The stalker spun and backed out of Nathan’s way, a slight tremble in his legs.

  Amber blinked and moved her limbs stiffly. “There is a strange power here,” she said. “I have not felt it in a very long time.” After blinking again, she stared at Patar. “What are you doing here? Has the time to dance arrived so soon?”

  Patar tightened his jaw, squeezing his words into tense bullets. “No, it is not the time. I did not intend for you to see me yet.”

  “When the time comes, will you be ready to dance with me?” She spread out her arms, now loose and graceful. “I will provide the music.”

  Patar dipped his head low. “As long as my brother lives, I cannot dance with you. No harmony can be realized until justice is served.”

  “You have spoken well.” Amber’s golden glow returned, casting her once again in a brilliant aura. “As always, there is no deception in your speech. Although I am not your supplicant, I will pray for your grieving heart.”

  He gave her a brief bow. “I am grateful for your kindness.”

  Amber’s eyebrow arched up. “Perhaps when we meet again, harmony will have been restored, and the music in the air will guide your feet into the liberating dance.”

  “Perhaps.” Patar bowed again, backed away three steps, and vanished in a column of mist.

  Everyone in the room instantly continued moving. Kelly bumped into Nathan, nearly dropping the photo album. “Whoa!” she said as she repositioned her load. “Your brake lights must be out.”

  Nathan steadied her. “Sorry. We had another Patar event.”

  “We did?” She looked around, her eyes wide. “What did he want?”

  “Same as usual.” He glanced at Amber, who was now walking close to Francesca Yellow. “Need I say more?”

  Kelly shook her head. “That creep needs a new song.”

  A shadow passed through the candelabrum’s glow, short and hurried. Dr. Simon’s voice penetrated the silence, its familiar British flavor sounding strangely appropriate. “Another intersection will come around in moments. An especially strong dream is within reach.” Simon Blue’s bespectacled face and nearly bald head appeared as he drew near. “We should prepare everyone immediately.”

  “Shouldn’t we take the time to explain what we’ve learned?” Solomon asked.

  “That can wait. This is only an experimental journey to see if we can monitor their activity and use the findings to calibrate the dream viewer. It should be short-lived, and we can explain when they return. We might not get another intersection for hours.”

  Solomon pressed his lips together and nodded. “I understand.”

  “Have you asked the supplicant about penetrating the veil?” Dr. Simon stared at Amber, fidgeting.

  “We thought we would wait until the last moment to introduce the gifted one to her supplicant.” Solomon took Francesca Yellow’s hand. “It could be quite a shock.”

  “True enough.” Simon glanced back into the darkness. “And have you told your wife who else is here?”

  “Not yet.” Solomon heaved a sigh. “I hope you’re right about this. I’m uncomfortable with keeping secrets from her.”

  Francesca looked up at him, her expression curious and perhaps a little stung. “Secrets? What secrets?”

  “You’ll find out in a minute.”

  Nathan gazed at Francesca. The little girl he had known had changed. She was still sweet and lovely, but her face gave away a good deal of pain. Had married life dimmed her bright, precocious aspect?

  “I expect that your decision will pay dividends,” Simon Blue continued. “The emotional upheaval from both meetings will serve our purposes.”

  Solomon nodded toward the outer wall. “Turn on the engine. I’ll make the introductions.”

  Dr. Simon waved toward the perimeter and called, “Begin the sequence.”

  Instantly, violin music poured from somewhere in the darkness — sweet, vibrant, and alive with joy. Nathan searched for the source of the lovely sound — Vivaldi’s “Spring,” one half of the arrangement he and his mother had performed so many times before. As he mentally played his part, his wounded fingers flexing slightly with each note, another man walked slowly into view, an older gentleman with wispy gray hair, large ears, and a kind, wrinkled face. With a violin tucked under his chin, he smiled as he stroked the strings with fervor.

  Nathan smiled. It was Dr. Nikolai Malenkov, Francesca’s adoptive father.

  “Daddy!” Francesca leaped ahead, but Solomon held her back.

  “I’m sorry, dearest one,” he said, “but you must not approach him now.”

  Francesca pulled away. “Why? I haven’t seen him in months.”

  “We are identifying your emotional energy signatures so the receivers can track you and Amber while you’re in the dream world.”

  A new voice called from the outer wall. “Reception is excellent. The emotion waves match the predicted amplitude and frequency.”

  “Are you capturing the energy?” Solomon called. He turned and addressed the others. “That’s Dr. Gordon of Earth Yellow. I will explain in a moment.”

  “Yes,” Dr. Gordon replied. “Now we need the counterbalance.”

  As the violin played on, Solomon reached for Amber’s hand. “Francesca, I would like to introduce you to Amber, your supplicant, whom you have met in many lonely dreams.”

  Francesca turned toward Amber. “But I have never met — ”

  Her eyes suddenly grew wide. As Amber’s golden glow strengthened, Francesca stepped closer, her chin trembling. “I . . . I do know you.”

  Amber raised a hand and touched Francesca’s cheek, then crooned, her voice soft and lovely. “My beloved, I have guided you through troubled waters, both in dreams and in reality. To finally touch you and feel your love is my dream come true.”

  “I know.” Francesca’s voice quavered. “Why didn’t I remember you until now?”

  Amber brushed a tear from Francesca’s cheek. “At the dawn of every day, you remembered my face, my song, my love, but the troubles of the waking hours would always push me into the periphery, a realm in your mind that you would revisit when you swept away the cares of the day and retired into slumber.”

  Francesca heaved a short breath. “I called you” — she licked her lips, her voice faltering — “I called you Sarah, my shepherdess.”

  “You heard that name whispered on the winds, for Sarah is the shepherd of the three worlds. She guides them in the cosmic dance.”

  “Wave forms are balancing,” Dr. Gordon called. “We are nearing perfect harmony.”

  Solomon touched Amber’s shoulder. “Will you open the dream gate for us?”

  Her glow now pulsing, Amber glanced around the room. “For how many? I have never taken more than one.”

  Solomon reached for the candelabrum and pulled out one of the long, slender tapers. “We need six, including you.” He handed her the candle and reached for another.

  “How do you know so much about this?” Francesca asked as he gave her the second candle.

  Solomon withdrew a small notebook from his back pocket. “You talk in your sleep.” He opened it toward the back and squinted at a page. “Now comes the dance, correct?”

  Clutching the candle close to her chest, Amber looked at Francesca hopefully. “Do you remember the steps, my beloved?”

  Francesca glanced at Solomon, then back at Amber. “The circle waltz?”

  “Yes!” Amber’s fingers tightened around her candle as she lifted to tiptoes. “I’m so glad you remembered!”

  Francesca gave her a hesitating nod. “I think I can do it.”

  Amber turned to Solomon. “The music is not complete. We need the accompanying part.”

  Dr. Simon Yellow appeared from the dimness, extending a violin and bow. “It was exactly where you said it would be, Solomon.”

  Solomon gave Nathan a candle, then nodded toward Francesca Red. “Will you accompany Nikolai?” he asked.

  She took the violin. “I ca
n if I must.”

  “Is something wrong?” Solomon asked.

  She raised her left hand, showing him her lacerated palm.

  “Ouch. Okay, not a problem. My Francesca recorded every possible combination of interdimensional travel pieces, including each part of the duet. It’s on Simon Blue’s iPod.”

  “I’ll play it through the speakers.” Simon Yellow turned and hustled away.

  “Amber,” Solomon said, “will you be able to hear the music from the dream world?”

  She nodded. “My sense of hearing works in both places simultaneously.”

  “Good.” Solomon gave the final candle to Daryl. “As long as the dream world is in sync with this one, Dr. Malenkov will continue playing. When he stops, it will be your signal to return. If we wait too long, it could be very difficult to come back. And, less importantly, our data could be ruined and the experiment would fail.”

  “I understand,” Amber said. “Our purpose is not to find Solomon Red during this journey but to gather data.”

  Nathan counted the candles. One very important person wasn’t carrying one. “Since my mother’s not playing the violin, can’t she come with us?”

  “I suppose she can,” Solomon said, extending the final candle toward her. “I had thought Gunther would come, but she can be number six.”

  “It would be better if she did not,” Amber said. “There is an old song we supplicants know that says if two people from different worlds see each other in the dreamscape, Sarah’s walls would be breached.”

  Nathan looked at her. “You mean the barrier between the dream realms?”

  “Yes. The result would likely be catastrophic.”

  “Would it be like interfinity in the world of dreams?”

  “Much worse, Nathan.” Amber’s lips turned downward. “Although it is only a theory we supplicants devised based on our understanding of energy fields, we believe Sarah’s Womb would rupture, and the dream worlds would become barren and fly apart, possibly causing the real worlds to collapse as well. In trying to save the universe, we could become the cause of its complete destruction.”

  6

  FELICITY

  Nathan took a deep breath. “Well, I’m ready, if everyone else is.”

  “Good,” Solomon said. “You have to enter the dream world as soon as possible, but you don’t have to stay long this time. Once we have the data for calibration, we can send you on a longer journey to find your father.”

  Nathan gazed into Solomon Yellow’s eyes. It seemed strange that he knew so much about events on Earths Red and Blue, but with Gunther and the two Simons getting him up to speed, it made sense. “Does that mean you aren’t coming?” Nathan asked.

  Solomon looked at the candle. As the flame on the wick burned higher, the yellow glow washed over his tense features. “I wasn’t expecting to go. I have to consult with the others as the data stream comes in.” He gave a nervous laugh. “Besides, you heard what Amber said. Suppose we run into Solomon Red. We wouldn’t want to breach Sarah’s walls, would we?”

  Nathan took a step closer to Solomon Yellow and studied his expression. This man who looked so much like his father now seemed very different. His father would never seem so relieved to send his wife on a dangerous journey in his place. He would want to dive right in — boldly, bravely. He was a man so consumed with his mission that he often didn’t consider himself at all, sometimes to his own detriment.

  Setting his bandaged hand on Solomon’s shoulder, Nathan tried to add just an edge of sarcasm to his voice. “It’ll be hard, but I’m sure Amber will get us through okay. She’s a brave girl.”

  Solomon didn’t seem to notice. “Who will go in Gunther’s place?” he asked, lifting his candle. “The group will need a bass voice.”

  “We have to sing?” Nathan felt a knot forming in his throat. “I’m a violinist, not a singer.”

  “Maybe you’ll have to sing. Maybe you won’t.” Solomon handed Nathan the notebook. “Read about it here.”

  “I’ll go.” Tony stepped forward and took the last candle. As he caressed it, he nudged Solomon’s ribs with an elbow. “Hey, Flash. Remember how all us guys used to serenade the girls back at the dorms? I sang the bass part with you. We weren’t half bad.”

  Solomon laughed. “You’re right. We were one hundred percent bad.”

  Dr. Gordon’s voice broke through the violin music. “We’re in perfect balance. I’m not sure how long it will last.”

  Solomon waved his hands. “Everyone who has a candle, make a circle around Amber and Francesca.” He then kissed Francesca tenderly. “Don’t worry about little Nathan. I’ll take good care of him.”

  “I’m sure of that.” She shed her trench coat, revealing a bright white blouse and a skirt that fell to her ankles. White and yellow daisies decorated the blue material, a pattern so lovely she seemed surrounded by a heavenly garden. Yet, with a cell phone clipped to her waistband, she looked like a high-tech flower girl. “And don’t worry about me,” she said. “I will be well cared for.”

  He stared at her for a moment, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Oh, yes. I’m sure you will.”

  While Nathan and the others gathered, Amber and Francesca stood face-to-face, about three feet apart, holding their candles at chest level. With the undulating flames flickering in their faces, their gazes locked. A light flashed in Amber’s eyes, then in Francesca’s, as if one pair of orbs had set the other aflame. Twin beams emerged, thin shafts of light that met at the center and blended, brightening as they touched. Then, as the violins played a crescendo, Amber swayed to her left, dipping first before rising again. Francesca matched with a sway to her right.

  As Amber shifted from side to side, her every move reflected by her beloved, she opened her mouth and tilted her head up. Vowel sounds began to pour forth, warbling and echoing in the vast chamber.

  Nathan’s throat tightened. This had to be the most beautiful song ever sung. Yet, it was more than song; it was passion — pure emotion wrapped in a melody, an expression of love so untainted, it was as if Amber poured out her life energy, bleeding and dying for her beloved Francesca.

  A hint of roses freshened the air — Scarlet’s presence. Surely this was her song as well, an expression of love he never really understood until now. He could see the love of a supplicant in Amber’s eyes, in the passion of her dance. Did Scarlet love him this much? Surely she did. Time and again she poured out her light to guide his way, turned danger from his path, and finally, she died to save his mother and had ultimately saved him as well.

  Kelly slid her hand into his but said nothing. Still, her touch seemed to change Amber’s song. The vowel sounds transformed into words, clear and resounding. Had Kelly’s touch created this magic, or had Scarlet offered again the gift of lyrics?

  My love is pure, my love is wild;

  It longs to dance with heaven’s child.

  O let the music flow within,

  The song of love that purges sin.

  Amber joined her free hand with Francesca’s, palm to palm, and they intertwined their fingers as they swayed on.

  To dance with me is life from death;

  To dance with me is reborn breath;

  To join our hands, to meld as one,

  Reflects our merging with the Son.

  To supplicate is but a sign,

  A portrait of your savior’s mind.

  His love for you, his gift to share,

  Compassion bleeds in souls stripped bare.

  Forgiveness flows in hearts of praise,

  In eyes that choose the forward gaze.

  Let partners lose what love has burned,

  For love sets fire to pages turned.

  So dance with me, forget the past,

  Re-pour the mold, the die is cast;

  The music burns the settled dross;

  Our dance restores the deepest loss.

  As the song began again, Nathan drank in the words once more, and this time he sang alon
g. Kelly, too, joined in, as did Tony and Daryl. Somehow everyone in the circle knew the lyrics, though no one had ever taught them the song.

  As pure ecstasy danced before his eyes, questions still nagged at his mind. What could the song and swaying dance mean? When Cerulean opened the dream gate in Earth Blue, he sang a song, and they stepped through a black hole that floated above Kelly’s sleeping body. Now, however, no one slept, and this supplicant had her beloved in her presence. If Cerulean had been paired with Nathan Blue, would they have danced to open a path to the dream world? Or was Amber different somehow?

  Nathan glanced at Kelly. Surely she heard every word. Did she understand what Amber meant by merging with the Son? Could she comprehend what it meant to forget the past and burn the dross? Yet, some of the poem remained a mystery. What did “Eyes that choose the forward gaze” mean? And “Let partners lose what love has burned, for love sets fire to pages turned” was as cryptic as the untranslated vowel sounds.

  With candles in hand, and their fingertips touching, the two dancers twirled, rising to tiptoes in time with the song’s easy rhythm. As if brushed by loving hands, their hair flowed around them, black and gold fanning out with each graceful turn.

  Nathan stared in awe. The image of a much younger Francesca came to mind. He had played “Brahms’ Lullaby” while she swayed in similar fashion, a pixie ballerina in canvas shoes — a miniature model of the beautiful lady who now glided along the floor like a raven-haired angel. Maybe even back then she had danced with Amber in her dreams, storing these steps in the recesses of her mind.

  Soon, their surroundings brightened. Above them, sunlight shone though a veil of clouds, making their candles seem feeble by comparison. A cold breeze whipped across their clothes, but it didn’t affect the flames at all.

  The music faded, and the song died away. As the last syllables tripped off Nathan’s lips, he relaxed his muscles. For some reason, as beautiful as it had been, he was glad it had ended.

  Tony patted his trousers pocket. “I have matches. Should we blow out the candles and light them later if we need them?”

  Her smile unabated, Amber ceased her dance and released Francesca’s hand. “We must keep the candles burning. Their light is the only connection we have to the real world. Nothing from the dream world will affect the flames, but we could extinguish them ourselves if we tried.”