by E. J. Mellow
—∞—
I land on the platform of Dev’s apartment building, my heart pumping with adrenaline, but now it’s accompanied by the excitement of figuring out what exactly is happening to me.
Unhooking my Arcus from the line, I copy Dev by punching out to retract the sides and fold it back into the baton. Seeing him beam proudly, I coyly smile back.
The excitement that rolls off Dev as we descend in the elevator is palpable, and when we reach his floor, he practically runs down the hall, swinging open the door to his apartment. “Tim!” he calls as he enters.
I take my time walking through the entrance, not quite sure where my sudden calm is coming from—maybe a part of me knows I need to let myself accept this skill, whatever it is, and compartmentalize this new information with all the other facts I’ve gathered every time I’ve come to this dream. Dev paces in front of Tim, who’s regarding him with concern. Sitting on one of the cream-colored couches in the living room, book in hand, he’s obviously taken aback by the sudden intrusion on his peaceful moment. When his gaze finds mine, his features change to that of delight.
“Molly.” He stands. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“Oh, you know, I thought I’d pop in because I had nothing better to dream up,” I say lightly, eyeing Dev from the side. Where’s all his usual composure? Shouldn’t I be the one acting flustered?
Tim smiles. “Well, I’m glad we were your place of choice.” He gestures for me to take a seat in front of the fire.
“No, wait!” Dev says, stopping me midstride.
“What in all of Terra is the matter with you?” Tim turns to him with a frown.
“You need to see this.” Dev walks to the opposite side of the room and faces me. He snaps out his Arcus and presses a button so that a string shoots from one end of the arc and attaches to the other, making it into a working bow.
“Dev?” Tim questions with apparent unease.
He goes ignored.
Seeing Dev’s expression—one I’ve begun to recognize—my skin prickles in fear. Whatever he has planned most definitely does not bode well for me. Searching around the room, I look for a place to hide.
“No, Molly. Stand where you are.” He reaches behind him, and there’s a whooshing sound as an arrow pops out of the quiver and into his hand. As soon as he aligns it to the Arcus, the tip flames to life like a matchstick being struck. The light isn’t orange as I’d expect, but instead a cool, bluish white, the same color that illuminates the lights around this city and apartment. The flame dances and whips about hypnotically.
My stomach drops out. I know what he has planned.
“Dev!” Tim and I shout simultaneously.
“Concentrate, Molly!” Dev yells as he pulls the arrow back and releases.
A thousand things happen at once. Tim leaps forward, trying to knock Dev’s aim off just as the arrow is set free. My arms rise protectively as the blazing arrow of death flies straight toward my chest, and in that same moment, an instinct that comes from somewhere deep inside me wills a shield in front of my body. My gaze locks on the arrow, and I push the familiar burning energy that rushes into my mind down through my arms and out of my hands. A scream, barely audible to my muffled ears, tears out of my mouth. Don’t hit me! Don’t fucking hit me! Over and over it’s thought. Don’t hit me!
As the arrow flies forward, it begins to change course. Somewhere in the center of my brain, I sense it strike the invisible barrier I’ve willed around me. Swiveling to the right, it slams and explodes into the wall by my side. An ice-cold burst surrounds my head, the energy quickly escaping me as I fall to the ground. Oh God, that hurts. Panting and clutching my forehead, I wait for the prickling pain to leave. When it does, I slowly open my eyes.
The sizzling of the demolished wall is amplified by the silence that fills the room. I carefully pick myself up and brush bits of dust and drywall off my clothes. Piles of debris cover the floor. I glance from the huge, gouged-out wall back to Tim and Dev. Tim still has his hands on the Arcus, frozen in his attempt to knock Dev’s arm, his mouth gaped open and his eyes bulging. Dev, on the other hand, is once again wearing a satisfactory smile.
Looking at him, I’m about to set loose the storm of fury building inside me. A fury that will propel my hands around his neck for attempting something so homicidal, so asinine, so thoughtless—when the front door swings open and Aveline steps into the apartment.
She takes one look at the still-simmering, exploded mess next to me, moves her eyes over to the strange position of Tim next to Dev, and finally rests on my dust-covered self.
“What in all of Terra is going on?!”
— 17 —
TALKING QUICKLY AMONG themselves, Dev, Aveline, and Tim sit around the dining room table. After Aveline came in, I looked at her in silence for a beat before resuming my plan to kill Dev. Both she and Tim had to help remove my hands from his neck and keep me from punching him right in the privates—the only place I knew I could physically harm him. It didn’t help that he wore that irritatingly amused grin the whole time I was trying to fatally maim him.
“That still doesn’t explain how you knew she could do this,” Aveline says to Dev.
“I had an inkling that something like this was possible the first night I met her. She manipulated the space around her when we were together, but I don’t think she had any idea she was the cause.”
“This is quite astounding.” Tim leans back in his chair, his eyes shifting to me. Still too wound up with anger to be anywhere close to Dev, I stand on the other side of the room by the fireplace, watching and listening to the three of them discuss my “power.”
“It actually makes perfect sense if you think about it,” Dev continues. “It is Dreamers we get the energy from, so why wouldn’t a Dreamer be capable of manipulating that energy?”
“I don’t know if it’s that simple,” Aveline counters. “Usually the energy is contained, controllable.” She looks to me. “We can’t control that energy in the form it’s in now. We don’t know the strength of it or the types of things she can make it do.”
I stare into the fire, lost on a lot of what else they say. What I have gathered isn’t much more than what I already surmised I can do, which is manipulate and change objects and spaces if I think about them hard enough. But is such manipulation really that strange of a thing in a dream?
The strength of it. Aveline’s words turn over in my mind. Am I strong? I snort at the idea. I can hardly lift thirty pounds without pulling a muscle. But what I witnessed myself being able to do must have been strength. Maybe not a physical strength, but a mental one? I shake my head. This is so confusing.
Remembering the heat and cold settle in my mind and body when I was changing my clothing, I wonder if that’s the power they’re talking about. But what did Dev mean when he said that Dreamers are sources of energy? What energy? I desperately want to ask these questions, but I have a strong feeling that no one in this room will answer me. They seem slightly unnerved that I’m even present for their conversation. Well, everyone except Dev.
“I think we should keep this quiet for a bit,” Tim says cautiously as I refocus on their conversation.
“Yeah, if the wrong people knew about this, I’m pretty sure they would do everything in their power to stop her from coming back,” Aveline agrees. “Not to mention we’re already in a lot of trouble for even knowing about this and not going directly to City Hall,” she adds sourly.
“They know she comes here, Ave. I mean, we took her to City Hall ourselves,” Dev says defensively.
“Yes, they know of her presence, but do they know that she can act just as acutely as the Navitas? If not better?” Tim counters. “If they knew this, I’m pretty certain they would put an end to her visits. Or worse, try to use her for their own gain. There are those in the Council that don’t have the best of intentions at heart.”
The word Navitas is new to me, but I’m still stuck on what Aveline said about blocking me
from coming back. “Wait.” Every head turns to me. “How can they stop me from coming here? How can they keep me from dreaming?”
No one answers, just as I expected. Aveline casts her eyes down as if that will excuse her from having to respond. Dev looks like he wants to say something, but one glance from Tim keeps him silent.
“Guys, seriously! I think I deserve a bit of an explanation. I mean, I was almost killed tonight.” I cross my arms over my chest.
Tim sighs. “We’re truly sorry, Molly. We can’t imagine how confusing this all is, but some issues need to be worked out first, for all of our safety.”
“And you were not almost killed,” Dev adds. “I knew what I was doing.”
“Oh, really? So you’ve launched flaming arrows at someone before without them blowing up?” He purses his lips but remains silent. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.” I pull out a chair and sit.
“That’s not what I meant,” he says in a dark, even tone.
“Then why don’t you enlighten me to your meaning?”
He merely narrows his eyes before turning back to his companions. “Tim, the whole reason I wanted to show you that was because I really think she could be a huge asset in this…strife we all know is coming.”
Tim’s brows pinch in. “Aren’t you worried about her safety?”
Dev sits back in his chair, regarding me. “No, I’m not worried about that,” he says flatly.
“Big surprise there,” I mumble while trying hard to suppress the instant anger and hurt that settles over me. He did willingly shoot a flaming arrow at me. And a rock, let’s not forget the rock. I can’t believe I once wanted to kiss him.
“But, Dev, I’m not only talking about physical harm,” Tim continues. “Here we all are, scared about what would happen if our own people found out about her…talents. But what would happen if the Metus learn about what she can do?”
The Metus. I try remembering what Dev told me about them—how they are nightmare-inducing creatures, feeding on the Dreamers like parasites. I shiver. Can’t wait to run into one of them.
“And I don’t know exactly what happens if Molly gets hurt here. What that means for her outside of…her dreams.” Tim slightly stutters on his last words.
“What do you mean?” I ask, nervousness prickling along my skin.
“I’m sorry. I’m taking this way too seriously. Everything’s fine. You have nothing to worry about.” Tim leans over and pats my hand reassuringly.
“I don’t mean to offend you, Tim, but it sounds like you’re the only one taking this as seriously as it should be. I don’t want to come off like a self-preserving prick,” I continue, “but I’d rather not get hurt while I’m here or dreaming or whatever this place is. Or get thrown down another canyon.” I flick a glare in Dev’s direction, and he raises an eyebrow at my accusatory look. Judging by how concerned Tim is about me getting hurt, I start to really wonder how real this place could possibly be. When I’m here, it feels as real as when I’m awake, but when I’m awake, it’s all too easy to make this seem like it was just a dream. God, this is so frustrating!
Something touches my wrist, and I glance up to Dev playing with my charm bracelet. I nearly forgot I had it on. His fingers gently graze my skin, and I can’t help growing flush. I jerk my arm away, uncomfortable with how my body responds to him.
“Another gift?” he asks.
It takes me a moment to understand that he’s asking about my charm bracelet. “Yes,” I respond curtly, still upset with him.
“From the same guy that gave you this?” He places his fingertips lightly on my burned wrist.
I slowly move that hand away from his touch as well. “Well, yes, but not exactly.”
“Who is he?” he asks.
“Why do you care?”
Dev narrows his eyes before leaning in close. “I do care, Molly, despite what you might think.”
I lean in just as close, our faces inches apart. “Well, you certainly have a funny way of showing it.”
Tim clears his throat.
I turn away, ignoring the fact that Dev’s focus is still pinned on me. I’m so angry! Angry that I don’t understand any of this, angry that no one is willing to explain the situation, angry that Dev made me realize that I have some strange power but once again won’t explain what it means.
“Not that I wouldn’t gain a lot of pleasure from watching you two take physical blows at one another,” Aveline begins, “but here we are again, at that time in the day where we actually need to work.” She stands, officially ending the conversation, and grabs her quiver from the back of her chair.
I feel more than see Dev take his gaze off my face. “I’ll do the rounds later. After Molly wakes up.”
Oh, yeah…I’ll wake up. I can’t wake up yet. There are too many questions I still need answered.
“I’m going to take her back to the field and practice some routines.”
Tim nods. “All I advise is for you to be careful, in every sense of the meaning.” They share a look of understanding that communicates more than what was said.
“Is this how it’s going to be now?” Aveline asks with pursed lips. “Us always postponing our rounds when she’s here?”
Dev merely waves her off and places his quiver around his back. Aveline cuts her eyes my way, and I shiver a little at their coldness.
—∞—
We make it back to the edge of the city and past the wall. Dev shoulders a big black duffel bag that he brought along from the apartment. I haven’t seen what’s inside, but whatever it is, I probably won’t like it.
“So why aren’t there any ziplines that go past the wall?” I ask as we walk in the direction of my tree.
“It’s mainly to protect the city. So that it’s hard for anyone to enter unannounced. There are guarded platforms spaced along the perimeter that can see anything approaching from miles out,” Dev explains, and I realize one of the perks of being alone with him is that he’s always more willing to answer my questions. The other perks I try not to think about.
“That will be an advantage then, with whatever this strife is you’re saying might happen.” I watch him carefully for any reaction from my words.
His brows furrow infinitesimally. “Yes, but we hope it won’t come down to that.” He glances at me from the corner of his eye. “Don’t worry about all that now. I’ll tell you more when there’s more to tell.”
“Sure you will,” I mumble, studying the closely approaching tree that’s become a staple in these dreams.
“Dev, why do I always seem to wake up there, at the tree?” I point to the object in question.
He contemplates for a moment. “I think it’s because that’s where you first entered this…dream. The tree, I’ve come to believe, is like a beacon for your mind. A familiar focal point of entry.”
Something dawns on me. “Is that why you’re always there? Waiting for me?”
He momentarily averts his eyes. “It’s one of the reasons, yes.”
Hearing his answer, I suppress the fluttering of sensations it creates inside me and decide it’s best not to press him on what the other reasons could be.
After a few more minutes Dev stops, dropping the black bag with a heavy thump.
“Molly,” he says while scratching the back of his neck, looking as if he’s trying to figure out his next words. “I want to clear something up. When I said that I wasn’t worried about you getting hurt, it’s because I will do everything in my power to not let that happen.”
“Oh.” I blink. “Why didn’t you say that earlier?” I ask, gauging how that should make me feel. More importantly, what’s the safest thing for me to feel.
Dev merely shrugs, and I shake my head with a frustrated sigh, not understanding this man. When I look back, Dev’s whole presence has changed. A devilish smile curves along his mouth, and his eyes glisten with a dangerous anticipation.
“Aww man,” I groan, knowing exactly what that face means.
“Another
way to ensure that nothing bad happens is to practice. See what kinds of latent abilities you have.” He bends down and unzips the bag. “Take about fifteen paces back, Mols,” he says, and my mouth involuntarily hitches up from hearing him use my nickname. I clear my throat and remove the revealing grin as I walk the proper paces.
Not good…not good.
“I think we’ve come to understand that you have some sort of power to manipulate physical objects,” Dev says as he removes a few innocuous black objects, some which I remember seeing at the apartment. “You can cause their scientific properties to change or materialize with your thoughts,” he states like a college professor going over material for his class. He reviews the pieces in front of him, picking up a small black ball as he stands. “Would you say that accurately describes what you’ve learned you can do?”
I nod, not letting my eyes move from the mysterious ball, trying to figure out all the things it could possibly become. A spiky bludgeon comes to mind. Or maybe it’s simply a bomb. Either way, I highly doubt it will sprout flowers like a Chia Pet and merely tickle me with its amazing fragrance. But I guess a girl can hope.
“Good. Now I’m going to test your reflexes and creativity by not telling you what this is before I activate it.” He holds up the ball for me to have a better look. I see no holes for flowers to sprout from. All hope lost.
“Can’t we start with the basics…like wax on, wax off?” I joke. He doesn’t seem to catch my reference. Go figure—no decent movies in this dreamworld.
“Seeing how well you responded to my earlier tests, I think you’ll do fine. Plus, this one wouldn’t hurt you even if you weren’t able to work around it.”
Funny how that does little to reassure me. “But how do I know what to do? I don’t even understand how this…power works. What’s its purpose, what are its limitations, stuff like that?” There are too many unknowns for any of this to go well.
