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

  He swallowed the last of the leaves, began a slow chant, and felt the energy in his hands build. After no more than one minute, he knew his power was stronger than ever, and he turned his hands to a nearby area of the net, where he poured a stream of dark crimson magic onto it.

  When the dark crimson hit the net, the net recoiled momentarily then tightened. Makthryg furrowed his brow and stepped up his effort. The crimson force was being absorbed by the net’s power, like a sponge mopping up ink. He would need to work fast and overwhelm it. He tipped his head back, now numb to the lancing pain from the net behind him, took a deep breath, and bellowed a guttural curse.

  He looked back down at the net. The crimson energy had thickened, and stuck to the ropes, pushing the pulsing red magic away. He let his hands release more of the energy, until the area of the net close to his hands had turned black, encircled by a rapidly flickering circle of dark crimson.

  He held up one hand to continue channelling the curse, grabbed a part of the blackened rope, and braced himself for the jolt of pain. But the rope was lifeless. Wasting no time, he pushed it up against a sharp rock edge and began to chafe the rope to and fro.

  After some while, his strength had waned from holding the curse steady, but the rope was almost through and he had the makings of a gap in the net. He pushed it further open and felt the rest of the net react and tighten. He would have to be quick.

  With his remaining hand still holding the crimson circle in place and the other prising the net apart, he chanted an expansion curse. The hole in the net grew bigger, by enlarging the ropes around it, as if looking through a magnifying glass.

  The rest of the net started to close in around him. If he was to escape, this was his only chance. He chanted one more time, then leaped through the hole, twisting himself at the last moment to avoid the rock behind it.

  He felt the crimson magic shrink as the net tried to pull itself tight against nothing. He whipped around as he jumped through the gap, and withdrew the hand holding the magic out of the diminishing break in the netting ... but not fast enough.

  The net sealed itself with a lightning-fast movement, and neatly sliced off his index finger as he pulled his hand out. Makthryg howled in pain and clutched the hand where the stump of his finger remained.

  He slumped against the rocks for a while to regather his energy, and when he had recovered sufficient composure, he tore away part of his cloak and wrapped it around the bloodied hand. The pain was excruciating, but he was free!

  He gritted his teeth against the agony, started down the slope, then stopped to look back at the net. It had collapsed into itself, having nothing left inside to tighten against. He thought for a moment, then moved back to the rocky outcrop. With some difficulty and using only one hand, he ripped more harrowbrush leaves from the plant, turned back down the hill and chewed while he walked.

  He needed to gather all of his remaining strength and energy to track down the invaders and force them to give him the secret of their power. They had destroyed his last scheme just at the point where many years of work were about to come to joyous fruition and for this, they would pay. Dearly. As for the Orange Witch, the pain he felt escaping the net would be nothing compared to that which he would inflict on her.

  The nagging memory resurfaced, and again he dismissed it with his growing anger.

  ~ 7 ~

  Stolen

  Valkrog was consumed by the thought of revenge. Rage had burned inside him and prevented sleep, and he had paced the warehouse until daylight.

  The Witch was here, along with a powerful machine that the girl’s mind had suggested could help him return to his own world. At the very least, he was sure he had discovered the means to reach his Master.

  He had stupidly allowed his own fear of capture to influence him, which had been limiting. Only able to fly at night. Scared to show himself. With this new knowledge, his fear had dissolved, replaced by a burning desire to find both the Witch and now this ... machine.

  Lena had unknowingly revealed the location of them both. The school.

  Valkrog knew nothing about a school, but the image Lena had flashed into his mind was still fresh. The building was distinctive, and with his keen senses, it would be an easy discovery. And as for the daylight, he would take the risk. The reward was too great.

  He stood on the roof of the warehouse and flexed his giant wings in anticipation. He had left Lena at the warehouse, telling her they would play their game again when he returned.

  But he knew there would be no guessing game needed, when he returned triumphant, with both the Witch and the machine. He imagined the look on Lena’s father’s face and laughed.

  Despite the enchantment, the girl had tested his persuasion skills in convincing her to leave the man tied up.

  “It is a game, Lena,” he told her, pulling her to one side so her father would not hear. “I have invented a new version. A combination of hide and seek and the guessing game. When I return, we will play. You will hide first. When it is your father's turn, I will untie him to finish by playing the hide-and-seek part of the game. You can use the time I am away to explore and find the best hiding places.”

  Looking back, it wasn't the most compelling argument he could muster, but it appealed to the girl. She had nodded and run off, telling her father not to worry. She would be back to play a fun game.

  His beak sniffed the air and he unfolded his wings.

  Several moments later, he was high in the air, circling in an ever-expanding radius. His bird-like vision scoured the town on each circuit for the sprawling complex of the school buildings, until finally he located the red roofs in the distance.

  He ascended further as he made his way across, and hovered over the tiny buildings. Small figures scurried around. Good. He would use his frightening appearance to great effect.

  He began his dive.

  ~~~

  The small boy jumped down from the climbing frame and stood up, yanking his baggy shorts back into place. A dark shadow passing over him grabbed his attention and he looked up into the sky. And screamed.

  In the playground around him, the other young kids, there for vacation care, screamed in unison. Some scattered towards the nearest school building, while others huddled together.

  The huge, black bat-like bird descended at rapid speed, and hovered over the playground.

  One small girl had frozen in panic at the sight, and stood alone. The creature landed in front of her. It spoke in a crackling hiss. “Where is the machine of Lena’s father?”

  The girl whimpered.

  “Where is the Orange Witch?!”

  The girl cried. The creature leaned forward and grabbed her by the shoulders. The girl screamed.

  “Quiet! Tell me where they are and I will not hurt you.”

  The girl tried to answer through her tears. “I don’t know. There’s no machine or Orange Witch or Lena at this school. Please don’t hurt me.”

  The bird-man released her and turned to the huddled group of screaming children. “Do any of you know of this machine or the Orange Witch?” The kids continued to scream, but many of them shook their heads.

  The creature whipped its head around as if sensing something, then shot up into the sky, within seconds just a speck, and then gone.

  Several teachers ran from the doors of the adjacent building. The kids were too terrified to move, but hugged the adults when they arrived. A young woman bent down and spoke in a soft voice. “What happened?”

  A tearful girl answered. “Jonathan saw a giant bat-monster in the sky, so we all ran. Grace spoke to it.” She pointed to the girl on the grass near the playground. She had her head buried in the arms of another adult, who looked back at them, shook her head, and shrugged.

  The woman looked back at the group of kids. “Jonathan has a strong imagination today, doesn’t he? I know what we’ll do. Let’s go inside and talk about it and have an early morning tea.” The adults led them back inside, and most of the kids looked a
round and up at the sky as they filed in to the building.

  ~~~

  Valkrog rose up high, until he could see the curve of the earth beneath him. He was seething with rage.

  Did the girl not say the Orange Witch was at the school? Now he had both risked being seen and worse, had been seen for nothing! It was clear she had lied to him. He would force her to submit to his will. And if she couldn’t or wouldn’t, he was sure he could persuade her father by hurting the girl.

  For what felt like an age, he remained high enough over the town to be difficult to spot with the naked eye, and waited for the sun to go down. In the dark, he made his way back to the warehouse, weary. But angry. Very angry.

  There would be no more guessing games.

  ~~~

  Calm had eventually come to the school, but so had the media.

  A cluster of TV and News-Radio vans were in the car park and would-be news breakers stood in front of cameras, or talking into mobile phones.

  One enterprising young woman was in the building. She had dashed out of the local TV Station, but not to the school, instead heading straight to the local pizza parlour. Experience had taught her a stack of steaming hot pizza could get you into any school, and she was now interviewing the Principal of both the high school and primary school—a Mr Charles Forrester—in his office.

  “Yes, we are certain the ... imaginative young boy sparked a case of mass hysteria. The children all believe they saw something which was never there. Our school Psychologist, Doctor Timms, is with them now. He’s very experienced in these matters. I’m sure he will have them smiling and laughing in no time.”

  The reporter nodded and smiled. And not just for the camera. She smiled because she thought it was much more likely the pizza she’d brought would play a bigger role in having the children smiling and laughing, than any Doctor Timms. “Thank you, Mr Forrester.” She nodded to the cameraman, who switched off his camera and hung it back down by his side.

  Forrester raised his eyebrows. “Ah ... which network are you with again?”

  The reporter smiled again. They all wanted to see themselves on TV, didn’t they? “Network 5, Mr Forrester. News at Five, on Five, is the show you want.” She stood. “Thank you again—we’ll see ourselves out.”

  Forrester nodded, sighed and returned to his paperwork.

  The reporter closed the door behind her and put her hand on the cameraman’s shoulder to stop him. “Follow me,” she whispered. He rolled his eyes at her, but followed her down the corridor, where, instead of turning left to leave, she turned right.

  She walked down to the end of a corridor where she had delivered the pizzas and entered a classroom to a cheer.

  “Yummy pizzas, Miss!”

  The cameraman rolled his eyes again and shouldered his camera, ready for action.

  ~~~

  Nathan walked down the stairs from his bedroom, deep in thought.

  He hadn’t heard from Agent Blanchard and Sarina yet. With the Prof and Lena missing, he’d found it hard to concentrate, but this afternoon he had other things crowding his head, and although he felt guilty doing so, he shook the thought of Sarina free. Tonight he was attending a special Science Symposium, where the topic was: ‘The Marriage Of Normal And ParaNormal’.

  Despite the title, he was expecting the symposium would be a rigorous debate: There would be the crazy claims of people with so-called special powers; and the possibility of new advances in science proving—or in most if not all cases, disproving—the claims.

  He stopped behind the couch in the lounge to tell his parents he was off to the conference centre, and he realised how bizarre life was. Until recently, he would have sat squarely on the ‘Your claim is no more than a crazy self-delusion. There are no such things as paranormal powers’ side of the debate.

  But tonight, he would seek out the representatives of the prestigious Royal Society, whom he already knew would be present.

  He had one goal: To apply for a scholarship for one of the Society’s little-known ‘Far Science’ Private School Colleges, based on a project to be sponsored by Professor Harrison. Which he thought was rather ironic, since his project was entitled: ‘Paranormal DreamScience’. If someone had told him a few months’ ago this would be his research topic, he would have laughed himself silly.

  Earlier today, he had tossed up shelving the project, now the Professor was missing, but had decided the Prof would have wanted him to continue. The initial shock had worn off, and his rational mind had taken over. Perhaps Agent Blanchard would discover the Prof had just been absent-minded. Again. He remembered the Prof already had missed an important meeting with him, and that was out of character.

  Torn between logic and worry, he decided he would stop by the labs after the symposium. If the Prof still hadn’t turned up, Nathan would need to do something about the collider. It wouldn’t do to have it sitting around in an unstable condition. He sighed. Of course, if the Prof did turn up out of the blue, he would have Sarina on his conscience, angry at him for dragging her into it, and taking her focus away from her precious art. He exhaled with a huff. Too many things to think about.

  “Nathan?” The disembodied voice drifted up from the couch. “You know you’ve been standing there for a full minute. Are you okay?”

  He nodded. His mother had actually noticed him AND the TV was on. Amazing. “Yes, Mum. I’m fine. I’m on my way out to the Science Symposium and I was, er, thinking about my scholarship.”

  “That’s nice, dear. Don’t be out late now.”

  “No, Mum. But I will check in at the lab on the way home.” He looked over the couch to see what had lost his parents’ attention. Normally his mother would not have noticed his presence, but they were sat together as normal, looking at the TV. The sound was muted. Then he understood. The news was about to come on. The news didn’t interest them. Too real, he supposed. They only loved their reality shows. Cooking, gardening, building, parenting—you name it; they watched it. Perhaps if he started a science experiments reality show—‘MasterBoffin’ he thought wryly—they’d understand more about his life. He caught himself. For all intents and purposes he was starring in that very science reality show right now. The only thing missing was the camera.

  “Bye, Mum, bye, Dad.” He didn’t wait for a reply, and picked up his skateboard and headed off to the front door, where he cast one look back at the TV and shook his head.

  Nathan’s father reached down and un-muted the sound.

  “... psychologists are calling it a case of mass hysteria”—the picture switched from panning across the outside of a school building to a dour-looking man who mumbled about group-emotional intelligence and mass hypnosis. The reporter continued—“but this little girl is not so sure.” The camera closed in on a small girl munching on pizza. “I sawed it too. It was a huge black bat. It was ugly, not like batman. I think he was angry.” The girl nodded with a serious expression and took another bite of pizza.

  “Why do you think he was angry?” the reporter asked in a kind voice.

  The girl swallowed her last bite of pizza and smiled. “He was angry ‘cause he couldn’t find the Orange Witch!”

  The camera switched back to the reporter, nodding and smiling and still looking down at the child. She looked back up at the camera. “According to experts, this type of event, while not common, has been reported before. One thing we can say these days is that there is nothing wrong with the imagination of these children. This is Stacey Brown, for News at Five, on Five.”

  Nathan’s mother craned around the couch. “Nathan. That was your school, wasn’t it?”

  But the boy had long gone.

  She turned to her husband. “That’s a shame. He missed that whole segment about his school.”

  Nathan’s father just grunted.

  ~~~

  Valkrog alighted into the warehouse and descended down to the floor. The Professor eyed him warily, but Valkrog ignored him, and as he walked past, he swung a talon-clenched fis
t at the man’s head, knocking him unconscious. He walked over to the girl, who was asleep on the sacking, and shook her awake.

  “Lena.”

  She looked up and smiled. “Oh goody. Is it time to play the hide-and-seek guessing game?”

  “Not yet. Your Daddy is still asleep”—he gestured to the Professor slumped against the wall—“so he can join in later. But you can help me now.” He flexed his talons and struggled to contain his impatience. Towards the end of his return flight, he had realised forcing the girl to submit might lose him any advantage he had, and he had managed to repress most of his anger. He would need the girl to be calm if he were to extract the information he needed.

  Lena sat up and frowned. “But Daddy is still tied up, and we haven’t even started the game yet. That’s not fair!” She folded her arms and pouted at him. “You untie him, then I’ll help.”

  Valkrog nodded. “I will, Lena. But first, I want you to answer my questions.”

  “Okay ...” Lena sounded dubious.

  “Tell me something. Why was the Orange Witch not at the school?”

  Lena laughed. “That’s an easy question. Silly Mr Big Bird. Don’t you know it’s school holidays? Only kids who need to be looked after during the day would be at school ... I think.” Her brow creased. “Do you want me to ask Daddy when he wakes up?”

  “No!” Valkrog inhaled deeply. “No, that won’t be necessary. Thank you. This machine you spoke of. You told me it was also at the school. Is that true?”

  Lena’s eyes opened wide. “You promised not to talk about it!”

  “It is part of the hide and seek guessing game, Lena. How can your Daddy and I play if I have the wrong information? I have not spoken to anyone but you about the machine, and I will uphold my promise. Agreed?”

  Lena nodded. “But it’s not at the school. I never told you that, Mr Big Bird. Why would the school have the machine? It’s at Daddy’s work, of course!”

  He held his breath, then let it out slowly. Patience.