Perchance to Dream

by Lyssa Chiavari

  Miranda! Thank goodness. Where were you? I could sense you were in trouble, but I couldn’t reach you. What happened?

  I tried to keep my expression blank and my pace steady as I walked and thought-spoke at the same time.

  The Watch found me. I need to get away. Is… is it too late to accept your offer from last night?

  She laughed, sounding almost hysterical. Of course not. We’re already on our way. Then she added, apologetically, I… I wasn’t trying to spy on you or anything, but I was worried, so I’ve been checking in throughout the day. When I couldn’t find you, I panicked. I just didn’t know what I would do if something happened to you, Miranda. I hope you’re not angry.

  I fought to hide my smile, but inside, my heart was light. Of course not, Ferda. Thank you.

  Though I couldn’t see her, it felt, for a moment, like she wound her fingers between mine and squeezed my hand.

  You’ll need to get outside the city and hide somewhere. I’ll contact you when we’re close.

  Getting outside the city—that would be the difficult part. The Watch had guards posted at all the exits. I’d never even attempted to leave the city limits before. How would I manage now?

  I’d walked blindly through streets I didn’t recognize, and I was now in a part of town I’d never ventured to before. The road was lined with workshops and storehouses. I wondered if I could sneak out in one of the storage crates that I often saw stacked on wagons headed out of the city.

  I’d just begun to move toward the storehouse when a new voice, distant but intense, caught at my mind. Someone, help me, please! it shrieked. I can’t breathe!

  I stopped in my tracks.

  It was Ari.

  ❦

  I followed the disembodied voice into a seemingly abandoned workshop. Its one room was dark. Unrecognizable shapes filled the shadows of the small space.

  “Ari?” I whispered, reaching out with my mind as I spoke. “Are you in here?”

  Miranda? Yes, I’m here! Can you find me? It’s so dark!

  I crept forward, reaching out with my hands toward one of the dark masses in the room. My fingers brushed wood. As I ran my hands over the strange lump, I realized what I’d stumbled across. This was a woodcarver’s shop. These masses were unfinished sculptures.

  They sealed me inside one, Miranda. As punishment. The Brothers, they’re not like the legends say. They don’t care about Gale. All they care about is themselves.

  “I know.” I frowned, and closed my eyes. “Help me, Ari. I can’t find you unless you show me where you are.”

  A large wood-plant trunk in the room’s center stood out in my mind. It was still rough; the carver had not begun to shape it yet. I rushed over to it, grabbing one of the carver’s tools off the workbench as I ran. Quickly, I began to hack at the wooden mass.

  Hurry, please. I’m running out of air.

  Each slam of the long metal implement echoed around the room. Finally, the solid wood began to splinter. With one last deafening crack, the trunk split apart and Ari tumbled out, gasping for breath.

  I knelt beside him, bracing his shoulders as he frantically sucked in air.

  “Thank you,” he choked. His cheeks shone with dried tears. “I thought I was going to die. They meant for me to die.”

  I glanced around the room at the other half-finished sculptures. How many of these, I wondered with a sick stomach, were other victims of the Brotherhood’s wrath? I tentatively reached out with my mind, but sensed nothing. If any of these statues contained people, it was too late for me to do anything for them now.

  “I heard you in my head,” Ari said, his voice ragged. “I know that sounds crazy—”

  “It’s not crazy.”

  He stared at me a moment. “Is that why? Why you were… writhing like that in the lavatory?”

  I sighed, remembering how Ban had called me a cripple. “No. Well, I don’t think so. I’m not sure. I suppose it doesn’t matter, in the end. All these things are a part of me, for better or worse.”

  Ari looked down at his feet, bare and filthy with dirt and wood shavings. Then he nodded. “All right. So what do we do now?”

  “We need to find a way to get out of here. Quickly, before the Watch finds us. Help is waiting for us, if we can manage to get out of the city first.”

  “I might know a way,” Ari said. I looked at him in surprise. He shrugged. “They brought me to the Citadel yesterday. I saw… things. I suppose they thought it wouldn’t matter, since I was to die. But there is a way out of the city through there.”

  “In the Citadel?” I sat heavily next to him, resting my head against the shattered wood and looking up at the black ceiling. It was impossible. The Watch must be searching for us—Ban said they were coming for me, and even if he was lying then, I knew he had to have regained consciousness and alerted them by now. And as soon as they discovered Ari had broken free from his prison, they would be looking for him, too. To go to the Citadel would be walking straight into their hands.

  As if on cue, my muscles tightened, and the familiar tingling nausea began to form in the pit of my stomach. Of course I would have a fit now. I shouldn’t have expected anything less.

  But the fit didn’t come. Instead, I fell into a vision.

  I was in a storm again, just as I was three nights ago.

  And this time, when I awoke, I had the answer.

  Is that possible? I whispered to Ferda in my mind.

  I don’t know. Nothing you’ve been able to do is like anything I’ve seen on Orbe. Maybe the meige on Gale are stronger, for all the Brotherhood’s attempts to destroy them. There’s no way to know for sure, Miranda. You’ll just have to try.

  Ari was kneeling over me, looking down in worry, when I opened my eyes. “Miranda? Are you okay?”

  I nodded, sitting up and rubbing my stiff arms with my palms. “Yes,” I said. “I have an idea. But I’ll need your help. Will… will you help me, Ari?”

  Ari grinned and clapped his hand on my shoulder. “Of course I will,” he said. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do, Miranda.”

  I smiled back. A part of me, deep down, still had trouble understanding Ari’s easy offer of friendship, but I didn’t want to push him—or Ferda, or anyone else—away anymore.

  I would try. And if I succeeded, we all would be free.

  ❦

  Ari and I crept down the dark granite hallway as quietly as we could. I kept my internal ears attuned for the sounds of anyone approaching. This new ability to hear thoughts was proving quite useful for keeping us concealed—as long as I didn’t come across anyone else like Ban, who could block my powers, we were safe.

  We moved forward until I found the voices I was looking for. My parents’.

  They were in a cell together, but they were not alone. Two men were with them, arguing.

  The Brothers. Bastian and Nio.

  I held back for a moment, listening and fretting. I knew what I needed to do, but I was afraid. Greater than even my fear of facing the Brothers, I was scared to talk to my father again. I didn’t know how he would react, but worse was not knowing how I would react. If I could keep my anger about his years of deception at bay long enough to do what needed to be done.

  But I couldn’t put it off any longer. So I closed my eyes and concentrated.

  Father.

  There was a slight hesitation. Miranda? Is that you?

  Yes.

  But how? You shouldn’t be able—

  There’s no time for that now, Father, I interrupted him. I’m here to help you and Mother escape. But I need to know something first. Are you still a meiga?

  His response was immediate and flustered. No, I forswore the art. I did my time. I vowed I would never use my powers again.

  I didn’t ask you that, Father. I asked you if you still have the ability.

  Silence.

  Then, Yes.

  I nodded, the hint of a smile playing at my lips. With my father’s help, we just might succeed. S
ilently, I told him my plan. Then I nodded to Ari. “It’s time,” I whispered.

  ❦

  The storm was building outside. Even through the thick stone walls, I could faintly hear the howl of powerful winds.

  I crouched outside the cell door, listening with my mind for my father’s cue. As I focused, the small room opened itself up to me: my mother, despondent on a rotting pile of straw, her knees pulled to her chest; my father, beside her, gazing calmly up at two men before him.

  In person, the Brothers seemed smaller than they had in the legends. Less powerful. They were flesh and blood. I could see the resemblance to my father, now, in Nio’s lined face. He looked more aged than my father, though his hair was not completely gray yet. Years of treachery had eroded him.

  “I always knew Zalo was not to be trusted,” growled Bastian, “but even I would not have thought him capable of such a deception.”

  My father replied archly, “He is just one of many, my friend. Your grip on Gale is tenuous. You’d be better served attending the ranks of the Watch than wasting your time on me. I posed no threat to you in my exile.”

  Nio scoffed. “So says the wizard. You’ll have to forgive me for disagreeing.”

  “I have much more to forgive you for, Brother.” It was barely more than a whisper. “And I do, as unnatural as you are.”

  “I’m unnatural? You dare to—”

  “Don’t let him goad you, Nio!” Bastian hooked his arms under Nio’s shoulders, restraining him. “He can do nothing to us. He’s lost his magic. He is defeated.” He loosened his grip as Nio calmed, then turned to face my parents. “Now it is simply a matter of eliminating the two of them.”

  My father closed his eyes and hung his head. Just as defeated as they said.

  And then he worked his art.

  “Nio. Bastian.”

  It sounded like nothing more than the howling wind, but my uncle grew still and narrowed his eyes. “Did you hear that?”

  “It’s the wind. Don’t worry about it, I need you to help me secure them.”

  “Nio. Bastian.”

  Bastian froze this time as well. Then he whirled on my father. “I thought you said you’d been inoculated.”

  My mother looked up with bloodshot eyes. “He has. We all have. We’ve done nothing but live by your edicts, for more than twenty years.”

  “Then who’s doing that?”

  My parents stared at each other in bewilderment. “Doing what?”

  “Nio. Bastian.”

  Nio charged forward, grasping my father’s tunic in his fist and dragging him to his feet. “Stop that, dammit!”

  I pulled back and, with a quick glance at Ari to ensure he was ready, slammed my fist down on the door handle. The lock shattered under the concentrated force of my meiga energy.

  Ari kicked the door open and raced in, but it was no longer Ari who crossed the threshold. In his place was a massive black creature, winged and fierce, too large for the room that now held him, as if his mere presence bent the space around him.

  The Brothers cried out in fear, toppling backward together onto the pile of straw. “What the hell is that?”

  My mother cowered, sobbing into her hands, “A dragon of Orbe!”

  “Don’t be ridiculous!” Nio shouted at her. “There’s no such thing. That’s just a tale we invented to keep the citizens away from Orbian starships.”

  “Are you sure?” Bastian asked, his voice quavering. “I’m having trouble remembering, now, what we made up and what we didn’t.”

  “Of course I’m sure. This is just one of Prosper’s tricks. It’s not real.” Nio staggered to his feet and rushed forward. Ari roared ferociously. Behind him, I thrust my hand forward, palm flat. A burst of energy, like the one I’d used on Ban, knocked Nio backward.

  “Come on, Nai.” My father quickly pulled my mother to her feet and they rushed past Ari into the hallway. Nio and Bastian lay dazed on the straw pile. Before they could recover, Ari had retreated and my father pulled the heavy door shut behind him.

  “Here, Miranda. Help me.” I placed my hand over the top of my father’s, and together, we bent the broken metal of the lock to our will. It was badly damaged, but it would hold. Long enough for us to get out of the city, I hoped.

  I turned, ready to run, but to my surprise, my father stopped me and pulled me into an embrace.

  “Father?”

  “Miranda, I never meant to put you through any of this,” he murmured into my hair. “All I wanted was to protect you.”

  My mother came up behind me, wrapping her arms around the two of us. I was thoroughly cocooned between the two of them.

  “We should have told you,” she said. “We should have realized… you’re not a child anymore. You’re strong. And that strength saved us all.”

  My eyes burned. I closed them, resting my head on my father’s shoulder and allowing myself this one moment without fear. Nothing within me but love.

  Then, sniffling, I pulled away from them. “Hurry. We still have to find a way out of the city. Ferda and her father are waiting for us above the cliffs.” Just like I’d seen in that first vision. That night hadn’t been a warning—it had been a promise. Just as it had today, the sixth plane had given me an answer that night. A vision of the future.

  And this time, when the “dragon” opened its jaws, I would run into the light with joy in my heart.

  ❦

  After.

  I ran my hand along the sleek black body of the winged beast—the starship, rather; one of the many under the command of Ferda’s father, King Lon of Nápule—and gazed up at the night sky. The stars were brilliant, tiny diamonds peeking out behind the gossamer threads of Orbe’s effervescent clouds. I’d come here every night, to the airstrip. To admire the beautiful machines I’d once feared as dragons, and stare up at the sky.

  “It’s still so strange,” I said, glancing over my shoulder at Ferda’s approaching form, “being outside after dark. I never saw the night sky on Gale. Except in my dream, of course.”

  Ferda leaned against the starship beside me, fixing her eyes on the blue-white sphere glowing over our heads. “Thinking about going back?”

  I laughed. “Definitely not.”

  “Your friend Ari plans to. He speaks of nothing else.”

  Friend. That was a new word for me. It was still hard to adjust to, having people I could trust.

  “He’s free, now,” I said. “And now that he’s had a taste of it, he wants to share it with everyone else. That’s just how Ari is.”

  “He’ll find a way. I’m sure of it. Your father believes that the Brothers’ grip on Gale is slipping. There are sure to be other meige. We’re as resilient as weeds. Having a parent with the talent helps, but others are just born with it. And it seems that the Brothers’ precious inoculation doesn’t always stop the power—it just changes it. Strengthens it.” Ferda gazed at me steadily, unblinking. “Gale will be free soon. I’m sure of it.”

  I shrugged and turned away. It was hard for me to associate Gale with anything but the oppressive fear I’d been crushed under for fifteen years. But there were good people there, I knew. People like Ari, his friends and family. They didn’t deserve what my uncle—and Ferda’s—had done to them. I knew Ari would never be completely happy until his loved ones were safe as well.

  “Maybe ‘home’ isn’t just the place you live,” I said softly. “Maybe it’s more about the people you care about. That’s why Ari misses Gale so much.”

  Ferda laced her fingers through mine, looking at me in concern. “Are you homesick?”

  My skin tingled, but I knew it wasn’t a fit this time. The palace doctor had given me medicine to control my seizures, one that didn’t make me sick like the amber liquid had. Only time would tell whether I could ever be cured; but now, at least, I didn’t have to live in fear just for being myself.

  “Orbe is my home now,” I said. “I think it always was meant to be.” I remembered the first vision I’d had of Or
be, and the strong sensation of longing that had accompanied it. Maybe my heart—or the part of me that was meiga, anyway—had been trying to tell me.

  I looked up at Ferda and smiled. “But I think anywhere would be home if you were there.”

  Ferda grinned back, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Strange. I was just about to say the same thing.”

  She squeezed my hand, and I was sure.

  I was free. And I was home.

  About the Authors

  LYSSA CHIAVARI can trace her interest in Shakespeare back to her Gilligan’s Island obsession in elementary school. She could still sing all the songs from “Hamlet-a-Go-Go” if you asked her to. Lyssa is the author of Fourth World, a young adult sci-fi novel that has nothing to do with Shakespeare or Gilligan’s Island, but she hopes you will like it anyway. When she’s not writing, Lyssa enjoys exploring the woods of her home state of Oregon and losing an unreasonable number of life balloons on Donkey Kong. You can visit her online at lyssachiavari.com.

  T. DAMON has always harbored an immense passion for not only writing, but animals, nature, and the paranormal. Her added interest in all things magical and mythical inspired her to create The Forest Spirit series, which incorporates of a little bit of everything she loves. Her educational background is in the zoological field, but she maintained her love of writing throughout almost two decades of working with and among many different species of animals. When she's not befriending animals or creating mystical stories, she enjoys studying astrology, tarot, spirits, magic, and past life regression, things her mother refers to as her “hocus pocus”. Her favorite activity, however, is spending time with her husband, daughter, and pets at her home in Northern California.

  ALLAN DAVIS is a meek and mild-mannered computer geek by day, but... by night... he undergoes a bizarre metamorphosis, and, without warning, creates worlds so the other people who live in his mind have somewhere to play. Science fiction, fantasy, and horror all come creeping out of the dark and twisted corners of his brain, with the occasional political essay or offbeat humorous work thrown in just to keep people guessing at his true identity. His ramblings have appeared in Stupefying Stories, TheFridayChallenge, and LewRockwell.com. When he's not doing unspeakably horrible things to databases, or sharing his fantasy worlds at allandavisjr.blogspot.com, Allan can be found hiding behind his camera, or chasing the kids around with fuzzy dice and air guitars. Never, under any circumstances, allow him to sing after midnight. Or before midnight, for that matter.