The Dreamer Chronicles Trilogy Boxed Set Vol I - III: A Sci-Fi Parallel Universe Adventure (The Dreamer Chronicles - Science Fiction For Kids And Adults)

by Robert Scanlon

  “Um, how did what go?” Sarina said casually, thinking that her fake lightness might avoid further questions. She walked through the kitchen to put away her shoes and bag.

  Her mother followed.

  “The maths test!”

  “Oh that,” Sarina said as if it were nothing, “It seemed to go OK I think.” She held her breath, hoping that she had provided enough information, but she could see from her mother’s tense expression that she wasn’t fooled.

  “We’ll see. When are the results out? Tomorrow morning isn’t it?”

  Sarina’s heart fell to her stomach. Thanks for the reminder Mum. “Yes Mum, tomorrow. It will be OK, don’t worry.” She tried to sound hopeful, which was the opposite of what she felt like on the inside.

  “Alright then. You go and get changed and we’ll make something to eat together, OK?” The tension in her face dropped away and she gave Sarina an encouraging smile and returned to the kitchen.

  Sarina headed upstairs to get changed, wondering why her mother was so tense. Bet SHE didn’t have to deal with weird dreams, odd boys and stolen pictures when she was young.

  After dinner, Sarina excused herself on the grounds that she was drained from the day’s exam and went up to her room. An early night would be great, along with pleasant dreams featuring fields of flowers, holidays spent endlessly painting beautiful landscapes, and dancing with friends.

  She yawned. She should know better, what was she thinking, pleasant dreams. No doubt she would be flying through the air swatting over-sized rats with tennis rackets in both hands. As soon as the image appeared in her head she realised what a mistake that was, imagining rats—her most hated animal—as both over-sized and in her dreams.

  She dressed for bed and as usual, was asleep in minutes.

  Later, her mother opened the door to check on her daughter, who was fast asleep. She drew in the peaceful sight and sighed. “Oh Sarina. I really hope it all works out for you.”

  ~~~

  It was quite dark. And wet. The floor was muddy and grassy under her bare feet. She ran fast through a thick forest, the prickles and branches whipping against her, scratching her arms as she forced her way through the narrow track, running, always running.

  Up ahead, in the dim light, she sensed someone else running, crashing through the trail. She sped up, running faster than she had ever run before, the branches and twigs a blur and the cold wet path flicking up mud from her feet.

  She saw a faint figure in front. Paolo. He was racing through the forest, smashing the branches away to either side. Where was he running to—or what was he running from?

  She tried to run faster to catch up, her legs moving in an impossible blur, but Paolo was also running faster, leaving her behind. “Paolo!” she yelled. She saw him look either side into the dark forest as if he had heard something, but did not stop running.

  He vanished further into the trail and left her behind until she was running alone. Exhausted, she came to a halt, out of breath and quite lost.

  The scene shifted and suddenly she was out of the forest and standing at the edge of another, much smaller clearing where a forest trail emerged. She looked behind her and saw the township close by, and lights burning in some of the windows. Paolo emerged in front of her, crashing out from the trail, his arms and legs bloody from scratches. He almost ran into her.

  “Paolo!” Sarina said. “What is happening? Why are you running? Where have you been?”

  Paolo stopped, his chest heaving, his face glistening with sweat. “Sarina, you have to help me. Makthryg and Valkrog are going to kill all the men with poison gas.”

  Sarina felt her heart beating fast. “Kill all the men? How do you know this? When? And how? And who is Valkrog?”

  “I was captured and held in a cage in the fortress,” Paolo said. “I managed to escape, but while I was in the cage I saw Makthryg and Valkrog planning to send a gas into the township. They said it would only take a few hours, then all the men would be gone.” He grimaced at the thought before continuing, “And I think you know Valkrog. He transforms into a large bird. Though I was pleased to see he is nursing a damaged wing. I didn’t think anyone would be powerful enough to have the better of him in a fight, but I was wrong. Happily.” He sighed. “I wish I had such a power. I could have saved my father. And Makthryg is the sorcerer I told you of before. Makthryg is more calculating than Valkrog. And clever,” he added.

  Sarina seemed not to hear.

  “That’s Valkrog?” Sarina said, shaking her head and blinking. “I fought Valkrog?”

  Paolo froze and looked at Sarina, aghast. “You fought Valkrog? How? What happened?” He stopped lost for words, his mouth falling open, looking at her.

  “Wow, this is some dream.” Sarina pinched herself.

  “This is no dream,” Paolo said, looking confused, “and I’m afraid my people are about to be killed, so if you can fight Valkrog, then maybe you can help.”

  “OK.” Sarina felt a strange sense of heroic duty calling her again, similar to the feeling she’d had when fighting the bird-man. She’d never had such a strong feeling—well that’s a lie, she did feel an inner strength when she was painting—but to feel this … powerful … was something new. She looked at Paolo with her expression set. After all, she’d fought the creature that killed Paolo’s father. “Alright. I promise. I promise to help.”

  She could feel herself fading out of the dream. “I promise, Paolo. I just need to get some rest, then I’ll be back. I promise … I promise …” The words echoed in her head as she fell into the blackness.

  Paolo stared for the moment at the air where Sarina had been, and then sprinted off into the township.

  ~~~

  “What?” Sarina woke with a start, sweat running down her face.

  “Sarina, darling, what’s the matter?” Her mother entered the room and rushed to her bed.

  “Goodness me, you’re sweating like crazy. Are you OK?” She held her hand to Sarina’s forehead to check her temperature.

  “Hmm, that’s odd, you don’t have a fever, and it’s not exactly a hot day.” She took away her hand and peered at her daughter, puzzled. “Sarina, is there something you’re not telling me? You know you can tell me anything?”

  “No, Mum,” Sarina said, “It’s just another bad dream. A nightmare maybe.” She looked at her mother’s face and her furrowed brow. “I think I’ll be OK—I’m a bit shaky that’s all. Is it OK if I take a shower before breakfast?” She sat up, wondering if she would be able to stand and why her dream had made her feel so weak.

  “Sure, darling,” her mother said, standing. “I think I’ll drive you to school today. You get the test results this morning, so maybe you’d like some support.”

  After her mother left, Sarina slumped back on the bed, her energy further sapped by the reminder of the test results and the threat of Frenchstone. Dear me. If she really did have special powers, pleeeeeaaase could she have access to them now? She heaved a sigh of despair.

  ~ 10 ~

  Gas

  The gas dispersal containers were in position and had been filled with the base liquids needed. Now all Makthryg had to do was to give the order to add the catalytic crystals. He looked up at the trees and saw to his satisfaction that the wind was heading precisely where he had predicted. With some assistance from his own specially prepared curse, it would be quite sufficient to send the gas directly into the township.

  “Men, don your masks.” He nodded across to Valkrog, who relayed the command down the line of men.

  They were spread out across the fields on the edge of the woods, out of sight and a little way up the hill from the township. By Makthryg’s calculations, the gas would be driven down into the Town Square in a matter of minutes. Silent. Efficient. And no warning.

  He had designed the gas to be heavier than air, to hug the ground, and the volume generated by the dozen or so containers would be plenty enough to knock out the entire township.

  Makthryg sm
iled at how close he was to achieving his goal. Soon, all the townspeople would be experiencing a far better world under his leadership.

  A movement in his vision caused him to look around. Running up behind him was one of the court messengers, who slid to a halt in front of the sorcerer, breathless. “Sire?” The man bowed and waited.

  “Yes, continue,” Makthryg snapped, annoyed by the interruption.

  The man straightened. “Sire, I regret to inform you the boy has escaped.” He looked up at Makthryg, trembling.

  The sorcerer’s face tightened. “How disappointing. Have the men guarding him relieved and sent to the dungeons. I will deal with them in my own time.”

  He turned back to look down the hill at the township. A pity to lose the boy now. No matter. There would only be one place he would go—and once he arrived at the township, he too would fall victim to the gas.

  He composed himself and scanned up and down the line to check on his men, then looked over at Valkrog, who also had donned his custom-fitted mask awkwardly over his beak-like nose. He flicked his fingers and the creature nodded, and left to issue instructions down the line of men. Satisfied, Makthryg pulled on his mask and gave his own men the signal to add the crystals. Two men steadied each container, while another added a few cups of blackened crystals to the contents.

  Makthryg motioned his men to pull back into the woods to their observation posts. A few scouts crept forward and settled themselves into place where they could see the townsmen in the distance, at work in the fields on the edges of the township.

  Makthryg moved up to stand on a mound, raised both arms high and began chanting in a low voice.

  For a moment, nothing happened, then Makthryg watched the night air become distorted by the dense but transparent fumes rising from each container. He took pleasure in noting the path of the distortion was precisely as he had calculated. Directly into the township.

  Valkrog returned and Makthryg pointed down the hill at the progress of the fumes. Valkrog stared at the men in the distance. Makthryg was certain the creature was smiling under his mask.

  ~~~

  Andreas and Tomas were on their way back to the township, exhausted from searching the woods. They had not found Paolo and Andreas was now more concerned for the boy’s safety.

  He turned to his friend. “Tomas, do you suppose he has beaten us home and simply forgotten the water buckets?”

  “Would that it were true,” Tomas answered, sombre-faced. “As much as Paolo is teased and taunted, we both know he is smarter than most of the Elders. If he left the buckets and that wristband, then—” he looked back at Andreas, unwilling to put words to the rest of his thoughts.

  Andreas nodded, grim-faced. “I know, Tomas, I know.” He sighed, “We will resume the search in the morning at first light—” but he was halted mid-step by Tomas grabbing his arm and pulling him down into a crouch.

  “Andreas, what’s going on?” Tomas said, pointing to the fields at the edge of the town.

  They could see men in the distance clutching at their throats, running in circles, and collapsing, unmoving. Others close by had also seen the men drop and were trying to outrun whatever was attacking them, but their own hands flew to their throats in panic and they too fell to the ground.

  Andreas and Tomas looked at each other in alarm.

  “What do you suppose it is, Andreas?” Tomas sounded afraid to know the answer.

  “I don’t know, but I’ll bet you my plough that Makthryg is behind it. Tell the men to run back into the woods—we’d better get out of here—and fast.”

  He stood up to warn the rest of the men in the search party, but as soon as he did, he spun back around to Tomas, his alarm showing in his eyes as his hands flew up to his throat. “Tomas … run …”

  But it was too late. Tomas was on the ground, motionless, his hands at his throat.

  ~~~

  Paolo walked through the damp trails following Rocco back towards the township. They had been unable to locate Andreas and Tomas, and wary of becoming lost in the darkness, they decided to return, and creep back into the township unnoticed to join them back at the cabin.

  They reached the edge of the trail and Rocco looked back at Paolo. He held up his hand to stop.

  He leaned in and spoke slowly, using his hands to make sure Paolo understood. “Wait here, Paolo, inside the trail and out of sight. I will head back into the Town Square and make sure I go around the Outer Circle and past your cabin. If Andreas or Tomas are there, I will find them. Wait here for me—or Andreas and Tomas—to return. We will make sure you are safe. Is that understood?” He looked at Paolo for confirmation.

  Paolo nodded.

  “Good.” Rocco looked satisfied, and with a final nod to Paolo, he sprinted off.

  Paolo had moved into the undergrowth and stationed himself where he could watch Rocco’s shadowy figure running across the field, when to his horror, he saw the big man stumble and collapse onto the ground. He tried to see further in the darkness and saw shapes in the distance at the edge of the township; they were also twisting around then falling down.

  It sunk in. He had been unable to prevent the horror. Makthryg had managed to orchestrate the gas attack and the men were dying.

  He sat back, feeling the blood draining from his head. If only he had been able to make himself understood! If only he had found Andreas and Tomas, they could have saved the men.

  But now it was too late and it was all his fault.

  A memory stirred. He’d said ‘men’. Save the men. But there were still women and children. His mother and his brother among them, if they were still alive. He’d failed to save his father, failed to save the townsmen, but he wouldn’t fail again. He would honour the dead men by rescuing the women and children, even if it took the very last breath he had.

  Paolo straightened carefully so as not to draw attention to himself and edged back into the forest. He guessed that the gas was being driven down the hill and if he retreated back into the woods, he should be relatively safe. For now.

  He had to act quickly, and run as fast as he dare in the darkness to find help—and then it struck him.

  Help? From where?

  Maybe Andreas and Tomas were still safe in the woods, returning from the search. If so, then he must find them. But how, in this darkness?

  And what if they had already made it back? And worse, if they had already made it back and had been killed by the gas?

  He shivered. That was not a good thought.

  He ran with difficulty along the wet and dark path, only just managing to stay upright avoiding the roots and vines tugging at him, realising that perhaps his only hope lay in Sarina.

  He thought of the log and the clearing and vowed to make it there, even if it used the last breath in his body. The townsmen deserved it. Their women and children deserved it. He had to save his mother. To see her face again.

  He shouted inside his head. “Sarina! Sarina! I hope you can hear me. Because now we really need your help!”

  “Sarina! Sarina!” He kept projecting intense thoughts as he stumbled along, hoping that the blue-eyed girl was listening.

  ~ 11 ~

  Results

  Students crowded around the school entrance, their conversations occasionally populated with nervous giggles, which only heightened the tension.

  Sarina hung back from the group, feeling the tension in her body. Could something please go right for a change? She looked around for Georgia, fiddling with the clasp on her backpack and shifting her weight from one leg to the other.

  “What’s up with you, Sarina?” A voice from behind her made her jump. She turned to see Nathan standing behind her.

  “Oh, you.” Her face fell. “I suppose you don’t really need to queue up to see your results do you?” She sounded sarcastic, though she didn’t really mean it that way. It was true though. Nathan could probably have turned up unprepared and half-asleep and still get a straight ‘A’. “Anyway, what do you mean, ‘wha
t’s up'? I’m sure I’ll make the grade.”

  “I’m sorry I asked now,” Nathan said. “I just noticed you were hopping from one foot to the other and wondered if you had been stung by something.”

  “Oh, no it’s nothing,” Sarina said, not realising she had been showing her anxiety so publicly and doing her best to cover it up. “I had some gravel in my shoe and was trying to shake it out.”

  “Right.” Nathan sounded unconvinced—then looked up over at the entrance. “Hey, they’re opening up. Gotta go. Oh.” He looked back at her with an odd expression, “Good luck!”

  “Yeah, sure!” she mumbled, and waited for the crowd to ease before heading inside, the pit in her stomach growing with every step closer to the noticeboard.

  Nathan arrived at the announcements board ahead of most of the others. Despite his usual prowess at these assessments; his recent bout of weird dreams, disturbed sleep and piles of drawings appearing out of nowhere, had dented his confidence, so he was more than a little anxious.

  He needn’t have been. “Ah good. ‘A’,” he murmured to himself as he saw his name and result. Maybe it was all just a dream and everything would be fine again next week. He hoped so and turned to extract himself from the milling throng of anxious students pressing up against him.

  “’Scuse me, excuse me.” He barged his way out of the crowd and stumbled against someone, his hand flying out onto their shoulder to stop himself falling. “Oh sorry—” he looked up, “You!” he said, jerking his hand back from Sarina.

  Sarina smiled. “It’s OK, Nathan, it wasn’t your—” She gasped and her hand flew up to her mouth. As Nathan had pulled his hand back from her shoulder he had revealed a tattoo on the back of his hand. But it wasn’t a tattoo at all. It was a small, precise ink drawing of Valkrog.

  She looked up at Nathan in alarm. “That’s not one of my drawings—but you must have copied it from one of mine again!” She jutted her chin up at him, her eyes blazing. “Nathan Goldberg, tell me at once what you are up to!”

  “It’s none of your business,” he said glaring at her, and pushed past, leaving her staring after him, perplexed.