Dream Keeper

by Amber R. Duell

  She nodded, accepting the truth as easily as she had everything else. “How old are you?”

  “How old is the human race?” I asked with a shrug.

  “Wow. You’re such an old man,” she joked, but her eyes widened in honest surprise. “Were you born or… Do you have parents?”

  “No. Before humans, there was magic in your world too.” I grinned at the awe on her face. “The Weaver and I were both born from it, in a way. The details are a bit fuzzy now, but I remember feeling the magic dying. I think we were its last effort to adapt and survive.”

  She made a low, contemplative noise in the back of her throat and something heavier clouded her expression. “If… If I asked you to take the dream back, could you do it?”

  My heart plummeted. She couldn’t know what that meant, but I wasn’t sure knowing would change her mind. Too much was already lost to her because of it. Because of me. If she wanted to be free, I would let her go. It was the right thing to do.

  “If that’s what you want,” I said carefully. “But, we wouldn’t be able to see each other again. There wouldn’t be time. I’d have to hide it in someone else and protect them as I’ve protected you.”

  She leaned into me and drew a deep breath. “I’ll have to think about it after Katie is home.”

  “Of course.” My hand stilled against her leg. The uncertainty I felt before Nora knew my feelings resurfaced. She cared for me but that didn’t mean it would be enough. That I would be enough when the trade-off of our relationship was a lifetime of potential terror. “Are there any new leads?”

  “No.” Her muscles tensed. “The police want me to take a polygraph, and we both know I’ll fail. I’m running out of time to stop the Weaver. I need your help.”

  Stop him. There was nothing she could do to stop him. We could save her sister, I could bind him again, but there was no stopping him. He would never give up. Thousands of years ruling the Nightmare Realm left him bored. He wanted to expand his territory. To feel something new. I felt it in him, but I also recognized the same desire in myself.

  “I’m doing everything I can, Nora.”

  She sat up straight, her eyes heavy. “What can I do? There has to be something.”

  “Once I find Katie on this side, we can figure out how to wake her up. If we can get to her before her body is found, maybe she’ll be able to find her own way home. All you can do is keep looking. The Weaver won’t kill her while she’s of any use to him.”

  Nora looked up. The stars, bright and endless, danced across her face. “Will she be okay when she wakes up?”

  My stomach clenched. “It’s best to concentrate on finding her.”

  “That means no,” she said with a frown.

  “I didn’t say—”

  “Sandman.” Her gaze cut to me. “I know what you’re saying when you don’t say things.”

  “She might be okay again with time.” After days of psychological torture, I wouldn’t say it was likely. I dug the heels of my boots into the sand. “My associate is searching for her now.”

  She stared at me with one raised brow. “You have an associate? Since when?”

  “Since always.” I smirked. “Baku has a thing for nightmares, so we’re sort of allies by default.”

  Her other eyebrow shot up. “By thing you mean...?”

  I leaned forward, squinting playfully, and whispered, “He eats them.”

  She cringed. “That’s not terrifying at all.”

  “Would you like to meet him?” I asked.

  “I don’t know.” She paused and wrinkled her nose. “Do I?”

  I chuckled, my lips quirking at her expression. “I’ll introduce you next time.”

  “Okay,” she said around a yawn.

  “Would you like to rest now?”

  Nora drew a slow, steady breath and a smile crept over her face. “Not yet.”

  “Then what—”

  But she already shifted away from me. She hovered over the sand on her hands and knees and licked her lips. “I’ve wanted to do this since the first day I saw you at Howell’s, but then everything happened and…” She shook her head slightly and peered at me over her shoulder with that perfectly wrinkled nose. “It’s about time I got the chance to draw you.”

  I watched in awe as her fingers brushed through the sand in long, smooth strokes. Her back muscles shifted through her shirt with each movement, and she kept pausing to tuck her hair behind her ears. Stars. How I loved this talented, beautiful woman. The world began and ended with her. And there she was, delicately sketching my face with a gleam in her eyes that rivaled the one I imagined shone in my own.

  “There,” she said triumphantly. “What do you think?”

  “It’s perfect,” I said in a hoarse voice.

  “You’re not just saying that?” She lifted her chin, glaring playfully.

  “Never.”

  “The eyes are wrong.” She sat back on her haunches and cocked her head to examine her work. “I guess it’s hard to really capture them without my colored pencils.”

  “It’s perfect,” I repeated. “You’re perfect.”

  She snorted, and I held my hand out to her, asking her silently to sit beside me again. When she shuffled back, I guided her head to my thigh and ran my fingers through her hair. She sighed, content, and my heart nearly burst.

  “Close your eyes. You won’t be of any help to your sister if you’re exhausted. I’ll watch over you while you rest.”

  She yawned again. “I didn’t get to use your sand on my parents tonight.”

  “I’ll take care of it when they’re ready,” I promised.

  She tucked her knees to her chest. “Will you be in my room when I wake up tomorrow?”

  “No. I need to save my strength for the battle that’s coming.”

  “Will the Weaver try to kill you?” she asked, brushing bits of sand from my pants.

  My fingers slowed. “I’m sure he would like to, but no.”

  She made a soft, skeptical sound in her throat, and her eyes fluttered shut.

  The ache began as soon as Nora woke up for the day. A tight, weightlessness in my chest, as if I were trying to expel a helium balloon instead of magic. I was near empty, but the barrier had to be reinforced and Katie had to be found. I clawed at my chest through the layers of fabric, scratching an impossible itch. It would take too long to absorb power from the beach tonight. Time—I didn’t have.

  I closed my eyes and turned my attention inward. The cords tying me to my Dreamers stretched out before me. I ran my finger over them, feeling the person on the other end until I found a young Dreamer with a cache of dreams brimming in his queue. Gaining power this way hadn’t been necessary since I bound the Weaver, but however much I didn’t want it to be, it was again essential. I rubbed the space between my brows with my free hand and slowly exhaled.

  Then I gripped the cord. My body hurdled down the unfamiliar path to a room I had never seen before and a boy who had never asked for my help. He slept beneath a set of Spiderman sheets, his dark hair mussed by the pillow. For me to find him, someone must have told him about me, but no one actually believed anymore. That didn’t stop the sand full of my power from reaching him night after night. More importantly, it was full of his hopes, his innocence, his happiness—everything necessary to amplify the magic.

  I leaned closer, my head hanging. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  With the last few drops of power within me, I held my hand over his head and called my power home. Silver and blue swirled from the boy’s head, rising to greet my waiting palm. Glimpses of his dreams danced through the air. The wheel of a bicycle. The fall of a block tower. An old dog with a white peppered snout. They flashed against my skin and disappeared. The power shot up my arm and slammed into my chest like a bullet. I clutched my shirt and staggered into a wall, slumping against it. My lungs drew a haggard breath despite the rush of new energy.

  The boy would sleep dreamlessly tonight, and in the morning, he
would wake without realizing anything was stolen. He wouldn’t know how much he missed these dreams. These answers to questions he didn’t know he had. They gave him something his waking hours couldn’t—endless possibilities without rules, a conversation with a deceased loved one… anything.

  I would make up for it one day.

  I would repay each child I visited tonight for the things I stole. But first, I had to save them. First, I had to get the Weaver under control.

  When I returned to the beach hours later, I practically glowed with stolen dreams. I trudged toward the barrier to begin my work when the sound of racing steps reached my ears. I turned in time to see Baku skid to a halt behind me.

  “You found something?” I dropped to my knees in front of him and scooped up handfuls of sand to read his dreams. “Show me.”

  13

  Nora

  An army of reporters stood below the podium. Cameras lined the back wall on tripods to record the news conference. For whatever reason, the scent of burnt rubber invaded the meeting room at the hotel, and the dry heat threatened to suffocate my last bit of patience. Or maybe it was the clingy capris and high-necked ruffle blouse with cap sleeves. It was too warm for stiff, restricting fabrics, but my mother insisted. People were watching, the police included, and I needed to project a certain degree of respectability. I tried not to take her words offensively since I didn’t disagree with the thought behind them, but I also hoped passing out from heat stroke fell under my mother’s opinion of acceptable behavior.

  While Detective Bell addressed the news stations, I recounted every moment of last night’s dream. Ben was the Sandman. The Sandman was Ben. He loved me. Pieces I hadn’t realized were missing from the puzzle fell into place. How long had I loved him too? How long had I kept myself from acknowledging that because I didn’t believe in him?

  I believed now. The Sandman was in my corner. With his help, Katie would be back home soon. Maybe even today. Maybe before dinner. I clung to the thought and let it steel my nerves. The detective rattled off Katie’s height and weight. He told the press about the scar on the back of her knee from a bike accident when she was seven. That she would likely be with someone armed and dangerous but as of yet, they had no suspect. Then he introduced me, my mother, and Paul.

  We stepped up to the podium as a unit, hands clasped together. A united front. My mother choked back a sob, and Paul rubbed circles on her back. I wanted nothing more than to ease her fears, but the only way to do that was to find Katie. Surveillance proved she hadn’t left town on public transportation which meant she was close. All her shoes were accounted for, so she couldn’t have walked far.

  “Katie, if you’re watching this, we love you, we miss you, and we won’t stop looking for you until you are home. If...” My mother paused. “If you have my daughter, please let her go. We...”

  I stared at my black flats and tuned out the rest of her plea. I couldn’t listen to it when I knew I was the reason the Weaver took Katie. When I was the reason my mother was in so much pain. Even knowing the truth about what the Weaver would do with the dream, a raw, aching part of me wanted to give it to him and be finished with all of this. But we would fix it. The Sandman and I would make things right again.

  Paul tapped my shoulder when Detective Bell resumed the podium, and I stepped back. After what felt like forever, the reporters finished asking their questions and packed up their equipment.

  When Detective Bell turned to speak with my mother, I nudged Paul. “Can I go hang up the posters I made this morning?”

  He hesitated. “I don’t know about that, kiddo. With everything going on it might not be good for you to be walking around on your own.”

  “It’s the middle of the day, and I’ll stay in town.” When he didn’t reply, I added, “Please?”

  “All right, all right.” He cleared his throat. “Be home before dinner or your mother will kill me.”

  “I will.” Although I likely wouldn’t eat again tonight. I needed to put on a show for my mother and the police, then fall asleep as soon as possible to see if the Sandman or Baku found any trace of my sister.

  I ran to my car a block away and leaned into the back seat for the stack of fliers. The door on the other side clicked open. I jumped, slamming my head on the roof. The Sandman stared across the seat at me, his eyes full of life again, and my heart lurched. He said he was saving his strength...

  “Who?” I breathed, squinting my eyes.

  A small crease formed between his brows. “What?”

  “The Weaver. Who did he kill this time?”

  “That isn’t why I’m here.” He took the fliers and wall stapler from the back seat. “We’re being watched so let’s hang these while we talk.”

  I eased out of the car and glanced casually back at the hotel. Two police officers stood outside their vehicle, staring down the street in our direction. The Sandman and I walked around the corner in silence.

  Tension crackled between us. It felt as if this were a dream with concrete under my feet instead of sand. A sky decorated with clouds instead of stars. But his presence at my side, that was the same. A smile spread across my lips before falling away. “If you’re not here because of the Weaver, why are you here?”

  “Baku heard a rumor about your sister when he was in the Nightmare Realm,” he said, his face a perfect mask of calm.

  My heart jumped. “Where is she?”

  “I’m not sure.” The Sandman glanced over his shoulder and shifted closer.

  He stopped at a telephone pole and handed me the top flier. I held it against the wood while he stapled the corners down. Katie’s smiling face stared at me, and I smoothed the paper so that he could attach the bottom edge.

  My mother chose two photos—one from Katie’s birthday six months ago with the rest of the family cropped out, and the other a candid of her smiling on the couch. Probably at something on one of her favorite reality shows. I trailed my fingers over her familiar cheek, so like my own yet freckle free, and a bit rounder.

  “Baku doesn’t speak so I have to read his dreams, but it looked like she was sleeping on a table or floor. There wasn’t anything else in the room, and there weren’t any windows to let light in. Do you know of any place like that?”

  “Do I know a place with a table or a floor?” I raised an eyebrow at him, my hope plummeting. “You have to give me something more than no windows.”

  He motioned for me to keep walking. “A shed, maybe?”

  “Also, not helpful.” I held up the next poster and struggled to keep the disappointment from swallowing me. There was still hope. It was one thing more than we knew this morning, as vague and unhelpful as it was. “But it would have to be close by.”

  His eyes shifted to the police again. “We’ll lose them and then head to your neighborhood to see what we can find.”

  I led the way through the same field the search party and I combed through. My car was parked in a nearby parking lot to avoid suspicion, but I looked over my shoulder every few steps for flashing lights. What would the cops say if they found me sneaking around here? They already thought I had an accomplice and Sandman looked fit enough to have snapped a neck or killed two teenage girls.

  The Sandman nudged me with his elbow. “You okay?”

  “The police already looked here,” I said. “They would have searched the sheds too.”

  “What if the Weaver moved her? You said he spoke with you during the search party which means this area would be safe to hide her. It’s not far from your house so it’s worth looking again.”

  I chewed on my lip. It was a valid point, but I hated wasting time double checking the same places. When we entered the trees near the new cul-de-sac where I spoke to the Weaver, I reached for the Sandman. He wove his fingers through mine. “None of this feels like real life,” I whispered. “Not everyone being dead, not Katie, not the Weaver. Not you.”

  He was quiet for a long moment. “I’m sorry, Nora.”

  I knew he wa
s; I was sorry too. Sorry to Lisa and that cashier’s family. To everyone that loved Natalie and Emery, and to the woman who answered my father’s cell phone. I wasn’t sure my mother would want to know about his heart attack, so I still hadn’t told her. The numbness swept back in, erasing the pain that threatened to cripple me. After Katie came back, I would fill the family in.

  We reached the edge of the woods, and I squinted toward the brand-new houses. With only two of them occupied, and only one with a visible shed, we shouldn’t have much trouble getting in and out. It was the middle of a weekday so with any luck, no one would be home either.

  We rushed up to the nearest building, and I plastered myself against the back porch. The Sandman smirked. “I don’t think that’s necessary,” he said.

  I stuck my tongue out at him. “Says you. If we get caught you can magic your way out of here.” I waved a hand at the shed. “Check, please.”

  “Sure, let me get my invisibility cloak out first.”

  “Sandman,” I growled.

  He laughed. “Hold on, Nancy Drew.”

  He didn’t bother hiding; he simply strode over and cracked the unlocked door of the tool shed. He shook his head.

  I sighed and tilted my head toward the sun. The roof shielded me from most of it, but it beat down on me like a drum. Of course, Katie wasn’t there. But she was under the same sky as me, breathing the same air, so it was only a matter of time. The Sandman brushed a stray piece of hair from my forehead. My heart lurched at the touch.

  “We’ll find her,” he assured me.

  I nodded, and a square vent caught my attention at the peak of the house. I shoved away from the siding, accidentally knocking his shoulder. “Do you see that?”