special. He managed to bring an end to a nightmare which, believe me, is a tough thing to do first time out. The stresses induced by nightmares are much greater than normal dreams and there is usually much less time to deal with the situation. It is more of a case of reaction rather than considered action. In Ryan’s case, he was trapped under water, and seconds away from waking up, when he gave himself the ability to swim like a fish and reach the surface.
‘Because the dreams you see before you are not yet fully developed, any form of Dreamweaving is likely to eject you from them. I’m sure when you all first arrived here found yourselves lying somewhere near a body of water, feeling more than a little dazed and confused. That is why we will be needing these.’
He got to his feet and walked over to the mats stacked against the wall.
‘If you could move those benches to the end of the room we’ll get these laid down.’
When they were finished there was a three-metre border around the pool. The group stood close to its edge, looks of nervous anticipation and excitement lining their faces. Tristram joined them and pointed at the image of a grassy hill that was crowned with a knot of tall trees.
‘That’s where we’re heading,’ he said. ‘Now, I must quickly tell you that if at any point you wake up then please do not try to get back to sleep. Under normal circumstances it would be fine; you would just materialise somewhere on the island and be able to make your way back here. However, we do have a minor security situation going on outside and I don’t want any of you to inadvertently put yourselves in harm’s way. Just do your best to stay with me. Oh, and if I disappear at any point, don’t worry. I will be back!’
‘So how do we get in there?’ asked Moira.
‘Simple,’ said Tristram. ‘Just jump into it. Who wants to go first?’
No-one put themselves forward.
‘Come on, there’s nothing to it. Honestly.’
Billy leaned out over the water as the dream drifted close to him.
‘I’ll do it,’ he said firmly.
‘Good lad,’ said Tristram. ‘Hop in then. Nothing too spectacular though; the speed you enter can affect the speed of your return.’
Billy nodded, and as the dream slid under his nose he hopped forwards and vanished into the water.
‘Where’d he go?’ asked Sophie, half expecting to see him swimming around beneath the surface.
‘Take a look,’ said Tristram, pointing at the image. It had reformed in the rippling water and showed a tall, gangling youth standing on the hilltop, looking around with interest.
‘Can we leave him there?’ she asked with a grin.
‘Now I’m not sure that would be very fair,’ laughed Tristram.
‘Oh go on, we can just jump into one of the others. That one with the mountains in it looks nice.’
‘No, I think he needs some company,’ said Tristram firmly. ‘Who’s next?’
‘I’ll go,’ said Ryan, getting as close to the dream as possible.
‘Remember, easy on the entry,’ warned Tristram.
‘Screw that,’ replied Ryan, and he jumped as high as he could, tucked his knees up and bombed into the dream.
As the others all recoiled from the splash, Tristram smiled broadly.
‘He’ll regret that later.’
9
Ryan’s arrival on the hilltop was as placid as his entry had been enthusiastic.
I don’t know what Tristram was worried about, he thought, surveying the wide panorama of fields and woods before him. The hill was a pimple on a flat landscape, dotted with villages and criss-crossed with country lanes and hedgerows. In the distance, slightly to his right, loomed a large power station that was the only blemish on an otherwise pleasant view.
‘I knew you’d come next.’
Billy Richards – the gangly human version – was standing a few feet away, also taking in the scene.
‘Yeah?’ grunted Ryan examining his hands, which were flesh and blood once more.
‘Wouldn’t do for me to seem braver than you, would it?’ said Billy, his golden locks blowing in the breeze.
‘Well, we all saw you on your own here and you looked so lonely and scared…’
At that moment a short, stocky girl with ruddy hair and green eyes appeared between them, shutting them both up.
‘Hi, I’m Moira,’ she said chirpily, offering her hand to Ryan.
‘Ryan Butler,’ he replied, shaking it.
She turned and greeted Billy, whose response was notably less enthusiastic.
One by one the others appeared in their true forms; Daisy, Frédéric – a gawky looking boy with tanned skin and a single eyebrow – then Earl, who didn’t look a lot different from his avatar, and Isabella – a petite brunette whom all the boys suddenly developed a keen interest in. Then came Sophie, followed by the tall German girl, Katya, and finally the skinny, anaemic form of Teemu, who seemed to stand out more from the group now than he did as his psychedelic avatar.
A moment later Tristram appeared in front of them, bereft of his wings and clothed – thankfully, Ryan thought – in a pin-stripe suit. His long, dark hair was tied back in a neat ponytail and he looked much the same as he had when Ryan had met him on the Railway to Heaven. He clapped his hands for attention.
‘Okay it looks like we all made it through without waking up, so that’s a good start. I chose this place not because of the view, but because of the scope it offers for safe and simple Dreamweaving. Now, I expect that you will all progress at a different pace, but I don’t want anybody to feel disheartened if they don’t think they are getting it right away. As with anything, it takes time and practice so just focus on what you are doing and try not to be distracted by others.’
‘What are we supposed to be doing?’ asked Katya.
Ryan tried not to snigger at the way she pronounced her W’s as V’s.
‘Follow me and I’ll show you,’ said Tristram.
He strode past them and headed up to the clump of trees at the top of the hill. There was dried foliage and dead wood scattered all over the ground, and one of the trees had been uprooted and was lying on its side amidst the others. Tristram went over and perched himself on top of it, his legs dangling freely beneath him.
The group gathered round but, sensing that some sort of demonstration was forthcoming, there was a general reluctance to stand too close. Tristram was clearly in tune with what was going on and he smiled.
‘Right,’ he said as they looked on expectantly. ‘I'm afraid we need little more theory before we begin. Now, as you’re all aware, Dreamweaving is the art of altering the path of a story by making something happen that is not part of the natural thread. But what do you think such things could be?’
There was a pause while each member of the group came up with a response and then waited for someone else to put theirs forward.
‘Come on,’ encouraged Tristram. ‘You’ve all got an example or you wouldn’t be here.’
‘I brought my cat back to life,’ said Isabella, her sultry accent capturing even more of the boys’ favour.
‘Okay good. That’s an example of Physical Influence, which is applying your Dreamweaving skills to another person or creature to alter their physical make-up. It is an offshoot of the more general art of Physical Evolution, which is the ability to change one’s own physicality to suit a particular situation. Ryan here did just that when he gave himself the ability to swim like a fish. However, at this time I don’t want any of you attempting to fly or to walk through tree trunks. We are going to start with something a lot more straightforward.’
He hopped off the log and picked up a large stick from the ground.
‘We’re going to try our hands at Morphing. Put simply, that is taking something and turning it into something else. It’s probably the most fundamental of all Dreamweaving techniques and is a stepping stone towards conjuring something out of thin air. Now, what should I turn this into?’
‘A gun!’ shouted Ryan.
T
here was muted laughter from his colleagues.
‘Ah, it’s not quite as easy as that I’m afraid. You have to have a genuine need to fulfil before you can successfully morph something. You see that tree behind you?’
The group all turned round and Tristram walked past them and pointed to a hole in the side of it.
‘Can you see what’s in there?’
They all peered forwards but none of them could make out what he was looking at. Tristram held up the stick and aimed it into the hole. Suddenly a beam of light leapt out of it, illuminating a songbird sitting on a clutch of eggs inside. Tristram was now holding a torch in his hand. None of them had seen the change happen.
‘Bear with me a second,’ said Tristram, tossing the torch to Billy. A moment later he disappeared.
‘How the hell did he do that?’ asked Billy, looking at the torch.
‘Impressed?’ asked Sophie with a smile.
‘Well, yes, I suppose I am. It can’t be that hard though, surely.’
‘Go ahead and do it yourself then,’ she replied.
Billy threw her a scowl.
‘All right then,’ he said, chucking her the torch and picking up a fresh stick. He walked over to the tree and pointed it inside.
Nothing happened.
Ryan sniggered and Sophie shook her head.
‘He’s always got to be better than anyone else,’ she whispered.
‘Clearly it’s not as easy as it looks,’ added Katya.
Billy had started to flourish the stick like a magic wand in the vain hope that some elaborate arm movement might suddenly cause it to change shape. He eventually grew frustrated, swore and threw the stick on the ground in
Dreamweavers: Awakening Page 20
