by Helen Harper
‘You’re pissed off,’ I say, ‘because instead of seeking you out yesterday, I went to talk to Ashley and Bron instead.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
‘It’s true!’
He turns around, as if to leave.
‘Wait!’ Shit. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean...’
‘Go back to the town, Zoe. It’s clearly where you belong after all.’
‘I need some help!’
‘I’ll say,’ he mutters.
I desperately try to think of something that’ll keep him here. ‘Please?’
He turns back and looks at me assessingly. ‘What do I get out of it?’
It’s on the tip of my tongue to suggest a wild, passionate bout of lovemaking but I manage to stop myself and say something sensible. ‘The mare. Pegasus. I’ll introduce you to her so you can get to know her.’
He glowers at me. ‘Get to know a mare?’
‘Well, you did say you respected them.’
A muscle throbs in his jaw. ‘Fine,’ he snaps. ‘What do you need help with?’
‘Um...’ I scratch my head awkwardly. ‘There are a few things.’
‘Of course there are,’ he sighs. ‘Go on then.’
I go for the simple option first. ‘The statue in the square, the one that used to be Albert Hall – do you know who it is now?’
‘So that’s what changed with last night’s lightning. Interesting,’ he says slowly.
‘Why is it interesting?’
‘It’s of no matter to you,’ he says dismissively.
‘How do you know?’
He looks amused and I clench my fists. He’s not seen the new statue so even if he knows who the old man is, he won’t be able to tell me right now. It doesn’t stop me feeling exasperated at his patronising manner though.
‘Never mind.’ I move on to my next question. ‘Have we met before?’
Something sparks in his eyes. ‘Of course we have.’
My stomach turns. ‘When?’
Dante lazily reaches out and brushes the base of my neck. I flinch, then curse myself for doing so. ‘Don’t you remember?’ he drawls. ‘I did give you a little memento.’
‘Not then,’ I say, as evenly as I can. ‘When I was a kid. Maybe five years old?’
He leans back and folds his arms. ‘I didn’t come here until I was seven. And I was something of a child prodigy. How many other children have you seen around here?’
Fair point. There have been lots of people – and there were those teenagers in the pub – but I’ve not seen any kids.
‘Zoe,’ Dante asks quietly, ‘have you been here before?’
I look down. ‘Maybe.’
He reaches out to me again but this time his fingers lift my chin gently. He looks into my eyes, his expression serious. ‘When you were five?’
‘I think so. What does that mean?’
‘Probably nothing.’ His jaw tightens fractionally.
I don’t pursue it. Whether it’s important or not, it’s clear he can’t shed any light on the matter. I lick my lips. ‘What’s the password for Somnolence?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘The website. Or forum. How do I log in?’
Dante looks blank. I shrug; it was a long shot anyway.
‘Is that it?’ he inquires. There’s an edge to his voice that gives me pause. Something I’ve said has alarmed him. My five-year-old self visiting? ‘One more thing.’ This is the one I’m worried about, especially after Ashley’s reaction.
‘Spit it out.’
How do I know I can really trust him? My gut instinct was to dislike him and I’ve always trusted my first impressions in the past. But I desperately want information. I take a deep breath. ‘Do you go into other people’s dreams? Into their heads? After you’ve touched them?’
His face whitens. ‘What did you just say?’
‘If – if you touch someone in real life,’ I stammer, ‘do you end up in their dreams afterwards?’
He grabs my arm. ‘Who put you up to this?’ he snarls. ‘Was it the Mayor? Bron?’
‘I ... I ...’
From somewhere in the depths of the forest, there’s a high-pitched, animal scream. It’s filled with terror and pain. Dante drops my arm and takes off. For a frozen moment I stare after him as he’s swallowed up by the familiar darkness. Then I follow.
Dante knows these woods far better than I do. Soon he’s some distance ahead of me, although it’s easy to follow because the screaming doesn’t let up. I crash through the trees and undergrowth, my heart thudding. Whatever is going on feels very, very wrong.
No matter how hard I try, it’s almost impossible to move with much speed. Weaving in and out of the trees isn’t easy and the cold brushes I receive from the bark when I inadvertently touch some of them make me stumble several times.
The closer I get, the more anguished the screeching seems to be. It sets my teeth on edge and I feel the goosebumps on my skin. But those sensations are nothing compared to the steel hand that grips my heart when the screaming stops abruptly.
I catch up with Dante. He’s standing in a clearing, his arms loosely by his sides and his gaze fixed on the ground.
‘What is it?’ I ask, breathing heavily.
He doesn’t answer so I crouch down to take a closer look. I draw back, then I lean down and gingerly prod the dark streak. I sniff my fingers – and my fears are confirmed.
‘Blood.’ There’s a trail of it for a few feet across the forest floor before it disappears. ‘There’s not a lot,’ I say quietly. ‘That’s something at least.’
Dante still doesn’t speak. I’m about to stand up when something catches my eye. I hiss softly and pick it up, twirling it in my fingers: it’s a small piece of frayed rope. I hold it up so Dante can see it. His expression turns even grimmer.
‘Are there other creatures in this forest besides the mares?’
He shakes his head.
‘Do other Travellers come here?’
‘Rarely.’
I think of the cowboy I saw him with the first night. ‘What about your friend? The one who was able to control when he left?’
‘Rob? No, he sticks to the other side of the woods when he ventures in. Anyway, I’ve not seen him for several nights. He’s probably staying in town.’
‘Would an outlier...?’ I don’t finish my question; I can already see Dante’s eyes telling me no. ‘So the only thing that makes any sense is that another Traveller was here.’ My fingers tighten round the scrap of hemp. ‘And they were here to hurt and capture a mare.’
He turns away. ‘So it would seem.’
There’s a painful lump in my throat. ‘Why would someone do that?’
‘Because they want the same kind of power that you have.’ His voice hardens. ‘Or that you say you have.’
I frown. ‘Eh?’
He doesn’t answer me. Confound the man and his enigmatic statements. But there are more important things to worry about. ‘We might be able to catch up to them.’ I point at the ground. ‘There’s still enough of a trail to follow and they’ll be moving slowly because they’ll have the mare with them.’
‘Zoe, there’s not just one person doing this, there will be several. What are you planning to do if you find them? Scowl at them till they give in?’
‘It’s better than doing nothing!’ I stride off. I barely make it three feet, however, when I’m halted in my tracks by the sound of slow clapping.
‘Well, I have to say,’ Dante drawls, ‘the Mayor has outdone himself this time.’
I spin round, eyes narrowed. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Just how long has he been keeping you hidden away? It must have been years.’ He glances down at the blood then back to me. ‘I guess he’s finally putting his big plan into action.’
‘Dante, I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
‘Right. You just happen to be the first dreamweaver we’ve had in over a century. You just happen to show up now, when
mares are being abducted. You just happen to let me know about it by telling me about the traps. Nicely played. Unfortunately for you and the Mayor, it’s not enough. I’ve seen through you.’
‘I really don’t know what you mean,’ I say helplessly.
‘I knew you were too good to be true. Big blue eyes, cute freckles ... he really went to town. Well, you might have fooled me for a while, sweetheart, but the game’s up.’ His mouth twists. ‘You’d better tell the Mayor that he’s playing a dangerous game by involving the mares. They’re wild animals.’ His eyes darken even further. ‘I suppose that was part of the plan, was it? Pretend to tame one of them and use it to make me think I could trust you? Call it Pegasus so I’d think you’re some kind of goddess here to help?’
I’m stunned into silence. Dante takes a step towards me and I’m frozen, terrified by what he might do. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so angry – and all his rage is directed at me. He balls up his fists and snarls then, before I can find my voice, he stares upwards at the black canopy of leaves and vanishes. I’m left alone, blood by my feet, silence all around me and a gnawing chasm deep inside me.
Angry tears fill my eyes and I grit my teeth. What a bastard. He gave me no chance to explain myself. He’s concocted some bizarre conspiracy theory because he’s Billy-no-mates. I know a lot of people in the real world think I’m weird and crazy but how dare he treat me like I’m a criminal? I should have shouted back at him, told him exactly what I think of him. I should have told him to fuck right off.
I straighten my shoulders. What I deal with in the real world is far worse than what Dante can do to me. I sniff loudly and spin round. I’m going to find that mare and show him I’m not the person he thinks I am. I’ll rub his face in the truth.
***
I’ve lost a lot of time dealing with Dante’s bullshit so when I start after the mare and whoever’s taken her, I run. It’s not easy to keep to the trail at high speed but I’ve had a lifetime of focusing on small details so, other than a couple of false turns, it’s not impossible to stay on track. I’m confused, though, when I start passing the trees where I etched my little Zs. That can only mean the bastard who did this is heading towards the town.
I slow down. I can still see drops of blood that make me shiver and curse. I’m reminded of a school trip to a zoo where the unhappy polar bear paced up and down in a small enclosure. All I could think about was what had happened to make the poor bear end up in that situation? I know what it’s like to be caged and I can’t bear the thought of it happening to Pegasus or another mare.
I no longer make the distinction that the mares are not physically present in the real world. This place is now as real to me as anywhere else.
I reach the edge of the forest. This time I don’t stumble and fall when I pull out of the dark woods and into the sunshine and the town. I do, however, search frantically around for signs of someone dragging a mare with them. There’s nothing though. There are people, but none of them are doing anything out of the ordinary. I scan their faces but I can’t see anyone looking worried.
I’m about to turn round and head back into the forest in case I misinterpreted the tracks and they continue along the edge of the trees but then I notice faint scrapes on the cobbles at my feet. I crouch down to examine them more closely. They could have been made by a wagon or some sort of box; they’re far enough apart that a mare could comfortably fit between them. Thoughtfully, I stand up.
A shadow falls across my path.
‘Are you okay, Zoe?’ Bron inquires. ‘Have you just come out of the forest again?’
I meet his eyes. ‘Someone has captured a mare and brought her here.’
‘Captured a mare?’ He seems taken aback. ‘I don’t think–’
‘Are you saying you don’t believe me?’ I don’t need to deal with another Dante.
‘No, no. It’s just that I can’t think of anyone who would do that.’
‘Can’t you?’ I stare at him levelly.
He shrugs helplessly. ‘They’re wild animals. And vicious.’
‘They cause outliers to have nightmares. Is there someone here who wants ordinary people to have bad dreams?’
‘Why would someone do that?’
‘I don’t know, Bron. Of course, as far as the Dreamlands go there’s not much I do know.’ I point down at the marks. ‘I need to find out where these lead.’
He follows the direction of my finger. ‘Eh?’
‘The scrapes on the cobbles.’
Bron’s face clears. ‘Oh, I see them. You have good eyesight.’
I want to tell him that it’s nothing to do with eyesight and everything to do with paying attention but I merely grunt and start walking, keeping my gaze trained on the ground.
‘Wait, I know what these are from.’ Bron grins at me. ‘It’s nothing nefarious, it’s just the foragers. They collect bits and pieces from the forest that might be useful and take them to the Department.’
‘You mean the Mayor.’ My voice is flat.
‘I guess.’ He looks at me patiently. ‘It’s not a big deal, Zoe.’
I put my hands on my hips. ‘Would a mare be considered one those useful bits and pieces?’
‘They take leaves and plants and things like that. Test soil samples to make sure the Dreamlands stay constant. This place is important. People need their dreams.’
I turn away again and stride towards the Mayor’s ugly grey building. Bron catches my arm. ‘Where are you going?’ he asks, alarmed.
‘To see the Mayor, of course. I want to know what he’s doing with the mares,’ I say calmly.
‘Zoe, you can’t just–’
‘Watch me.’
I march down the street and across the square. I avoid looking at the statue although I’m aware there’s a group of people clustered round it, staring up at the dead old man’s visage.
Bron keeps up with me. ‘This really isn’t a good idea. You can’t just walk up to the Mayor and start making demands. It’s not how things work around here.’
‘You did. You bulldozed your way in after those men hit me on the head and dragged me in there.’
‘That was different.’
‘Why?’
‘Because...’ His tone is filled with frustration. ‘It just was.’
I take the steps two at a time, pushing open the front door and striding in. A stern-looking woman with a uniform that’s almost identical to the one Kevin was wearing at the Bubble stands in front of me.
She glowers. ‘You can’t come in here.’
‘Try and stop me.’
She raises her arm and I see she’s holding a baton. ‘I’ve already been smacked on the head with one of those,’ I tell her coolly. ‘It’s not going to happen again.’
Her arm moves higher, ready to strike. I glare at her, meeting her eyes and daring her to try it. It’s a move I’ve often seen the Chairman pull; he once made an Alsatian back away whining with the same stare. I hold my nerve, recognising the moment when she backs down. It’s only a faint flicker in her eyes but I know I’ve won. Clearly, the Department has its fair share of bullies; stand up to them and they’ll sidle away with their tails between their legs.
‘It’s alright, Officer Effrayant.’ It’s the Mayor.
I try not to smirk at the guard’s name. Effrayant is French for scary. Well, for once, I ain’t scared. I walk up to the Mayor, my shoulders back and my head held high. ‘You’ve captured a mare from the forest.’ It’s not a question.
‘That’s rather a wild accusation.’
‘Is it?’ I challenge.
He smiles at me benignly and pats my arm. ‘You’re confused. Concussion will do that sometimes. You should sit down and have a cup of tea – I can fetch you one if you like.’ He snaps his fingers and an older woman appears. Bizarrely, she’s wearing a traditional maid’s uniform; the Mayor must think he’s in Downton Abbey.
‘Telling someone to make me a cup of tea isn’t the same as fetching it yours
elf,’ I point out. ‘Where is the mare?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Really, you should calm down.’
Considering I’ve not raised my voice, I think I’m acting remarkably calmly. I lift my eyebrows. ‘Oh, I’m fine. I just want to find the mare and free her. You can’t attack one and drag her off. It’s not fair.’
‘I did no such thing.’ There’s a spark of amusement in his face. It’s patronising and makes me want to punch him.
‘Your goons did.’
‘My goons? I understand the Dreamlands are new to you but we’re not in the pages of a comic book.’
‘They would have been acting on your orders.’
‘No one has touched the mares. No one from the Department, anyway. Where on earth would we keep them?’ He’s lying through his teeth; I can tell from the faint tick above his right eyelid and because I only mentioned one mare. He used the plural. My stomach lurches. How many has he captured? ‘Perhaps it was that wastrel in the forest. Dante,’ he continues.
I can’t help rising to the bait. ‘You really don’t like him, do you? Is it because he’s one of the few people to see you for who you really are?’
He snarls at me. ‘He’s a traitor.’
I suddenly think of the reaction I’ve seen from others when Dante’s been mentioned. The Mayor has obviously made sure everyone hates him. No wonder he keeps to the forest.
I’m opening my mouth to tell the Mayor I’ve seen through his little ploy when he steps forward and takes hold of my shoulder, smoothing his features into a benign mask. ‘I think you and I have gotten off on the wrong foot. Come with me, I want to show you something.’
I batten down the urge to throw him off and spit in his direction. I know that to show him what I really think of him will be to make a powerful enemy. Maybe if I play along I’ll have a better chance of discovering where the mares are.
‘Where?’ I ask suspiciously.
He chortles and points to a door. ‘Not far, not far.’
I look from the door to his face and back again. Then I shrug. In for a penny, in for a pound. ‘Okay.’
‘You really don’t find it easy to trust people, do you? I’m not the big bad wolf.’
He was certainly doing enough predatory snarling a moment ago. I smile at him. ‘Well, I’m no Little Red Riding Hood. But I don’t get out much and all this is very new to me.’
