Dream Keeper

by Amber R. Duell

  But the entire world was at stake. How could I turn away from that? I was only one person. If I failed, millions upon millions would be affected. Including me, if I managed to get out of here alive. I forced my muscles to relax. This was this right thing to do. So, after I found the Sandman, we would go to the Weaver’s Keep with a plan to bind him. A plan I would deviate from. The lies I would need to tell curdled in my stomach like sour milk.

  Rowan opened a side door at the back of their bloody tower. An icy wind blasted me in the face, and an explosion rumbled somewhere in the distance. I shivered at the smoke pluming in the distance.

  “Follow Elkmar and no other,” Rowan said.

  Something clicked and clomped toward us. A solid shadow, faded in parts and darker in others, lumbered forward. It had a humanoid body with cow hooves for feet and long, frog-like fingers. The head was that of a gazelle, complete with two ribbed horns and empty eye sockets. With knees that bent backward, it didn’t walk so much as creep.

  I shook my head. “Tell me that’s not Elkmar.”

  “He won’t touch you,” she assured me with a casual wave of her hand.

  The creature opened its mouth and made a series of clicks. I winced at the stale, musty odor wafting off of him. “Comforting.”

  “Take the advice—follow no one else.” Kail bumped against my back, the point of his mask grazing my shoulder. “There will be others that want to take credit for finding you. Don’t listen to them, no matter how friendly they appear on the surface.”

  I snorted. It was good advice, except I would add them to the list of nightmares that wanted to use me. The others to gain favor with the Weaver, Rowan and Kail to kill him. Although it was completely possible they would betray me. What could they tell him that he didn’t already know though? That I wanted him dead? That I planned on trying? He wasn’t stupid. The only thing they could tell him was that I had the blade, but I saw no advantage to that.

  Unless their plan was to turn the Sandman against me.

  Let them try. If he learned I was keeping a secret from him, he would forgive me just as I forgave him. Hopefully. Worst case scenario, he would never forget my betrayal, but even then, he would never actively work against me.

  Kail twisted me around and draped the knotted sheet back around my shoulders. “Don’t forget your cape.”

  I flung my fist into his stomach and, when he doubled over, I grinned, tossing the fabric back at him. It wasn’t as damaging as I had hoped my next assault to be, but it would do. Rowan ran her red-flecked eyes up and down my body. A cold sweat broke out against her examination. “What?” I snapped.

  She shrugged, her skeletal wing shifting. “Nothing.”

  “I don’t trust you,” I said slowly, enunciating each syllable, and narrowed my eyes.

  Another shrug.

  Kail straightened. His blue eye fixed on me, his other flashing so fast the colors blurred together. He grabbed my hand, slammed the Swiss Army knife into my palm, and shoved me out the door. “Prove me wrong. Be braver than I think you are.”

  Elkmar clicked again, and the Blood Army parted. My muscles burned with tension, and I followed him away from the bleeding tower. Away from Rowan and Kail and their penetrating gazes. I knew then, with their eyes like daggers on my back, that they wanted something other than the Weaver’s death, that they were using me to get more than they let on, but as long as the Weaver was dead and the dream inside me was safe, I couldn’t care less what hellish plan they wanted to unleash on their brethren. Let this realm implode—I would never be back.

  Elkmar walked a single step ahead of me. If I slowed to put space between us, he slowed with me. If I inched to the side, so did he. The proximity filled me with tension. It balled in my center, a twisting, aching thing. Pricks of cold broke through the heat radiating from his body, but at least he didn’t have fangs or rotting flesh like the other nightmares I’d seen.

  I didn’t know how long ago we left the tower. The mist of the Blood Army had long since disappeared from the horizon, and my feet threatened to cramp inside my boots. The scenery hadn’t changed. I was positive that was the same rock we passed five times now, but Elkmar continued with purpose. So, I followed. And I waited. Rowan said I would know when to run, but I didn’t see how. And if I wasn’t to trust anyone, how would I know the ally they mentioned? Maybe if I was a nightmare I could sense it, but I wasn’t. I was just a human, a Dreamer, with no special abilities to my name. I crossed my arms, rubbing away a chill.

  The blade they had given me wasn’t heavy enough to weigh down the back of my vest, but it was sturdy enough to scrape against my spine when I moved the wrong way. I practiced masking my discomfort as we traveled. The leather was stiff yet flexible, hiding the blade in its decoratively sewn lines. The fabric smelled like them though. Bitter, and a little bit sweet. Like the bargain I struck. For all the Weaver had done and all he planned to do, I would gladly shove the dagger into his chest. Even if it cost me everything.

  But Rowan and Kail were right about something else too. The Sandman wouldn’t like it. He explained how he and the Weaver shouldn’t kill each other because the universe wouldn’t like it or some nonsense, but he never mentioned whether they were vulnerable to others. Maybe it was because he didn’t know about the blade or he assumed no one else would be strong enough to get the job done, but I doubted that. On this account, the nightmares were more honest than he was. I dug my fingers into my upper arms. This once, I was going to do something I knew deep down was wrong. Something that was also right.

  Elkmar screeched to a halt, and I slammed into him, flying backward. I caught myself on my palms, but the impact still sent pain racing up my tailbone. “What the—”

  My voice stuck in my throat, and Elkmar leaned awkwardly over my outstretched legs. Silver flashed overhead, the source hidden behind my guide’s form. The air rang with the sound of slicing metal. Glowing orange sparks rained down on us, and I ducked my head.

  Elkmar let out a single low click and lowered into a crouch. That’s when I saw it. A woman’s naked torso connected to two scissor blades at the hip and another at each wrist. She stepped forward, steady on the pointed ends, and Elkmar lunged. I stayed frozen on the ground as they collided. The scissor woman fell sideways, stabbing at my shadow guide, and they rolled with each other.

  I scrambled to my feet. Was this it? Should I run? Elkmar was distracted, but I was no closer to finding the Sandman than I was when I first fell asleep. His magic wasn’t calling me in any specific direction. My head was void of everything but the rapid thud of my pulse.

  I couldn’t chance missing my moment though. With no idea where I was headed, I bolted toward the distant forest. It didn’t matter what I was running toward as long as it bought me enough time to gain my bearings and catch my breath.

  The sound of scraping metal faded last, but even then, the memory of it grated against my ears like rusted gears trying to turn. I kept going over the rocky landscape until I tripped over my own feet and skidded across the ground into a shallow puddle of oily blue liquid. Gagging on the scent of rotten eggs, I charged to my feet, my body screaming in protest.

  A drip fell in front of my face, sending ripples across the surface of the puddle. Then another and another. I knew I shouldn’t look up, but my eyes lifted anyway. A thin rope nailed to a tree held a giant, translucent pod aloft. Red veins snaked across the surface. Inside, a school of goldfish swam in circles, their mouths open wide in silent screams. Their scales fell off one at a time and floated to the surface where they bubbled and foamed over the lip.

  I winced and backed away, straight into something solid. Elkmar glowered down at me, a puff of smoke flying from his nostrils. “Hey,” I said in a light tone. “I... got lost.”

  The empty eye sockets narrowed, and he flung his head back the way we came. No doubt he expected me to follow when he turned, but I inched toward the blue puddle. Pulling the Swiss Army knife from my pocket, I sawed at the rope holding the pod up.
I leaned my weight into the tree, and the coarse rope burned my raw, scraped hands. If the water inside was as slippery as it looked, maybe it would trip up Elkmar long enough for me to hide. I gritted my teeth against the guttural scream building in my chest.

  A shadow fell over me from above, and I sawed faster. Hooves clacked against the stone. Elkmar must have noticed I wasn’t behind him. I wasn’t brave enough to look. Abandoning the rope with a single strand intact, I ran again. There was another set of clicks followed by a squelch which I could only assume was the pod, but still, I didn’t glance back.

  I ran until my calves cramped and my lungs begged for air. Until the endless rocky scenery gave way to a grassy plain dotted with an array of colorful wildflowers. Insects buzzed harmlessly from one to another. At first glance, they weren’t any different than the ones in the Day World, and I wasn’t about to get close enough to discover their differences. Every few feet, tall metal posts rose into the air, disappearing into a cover of grey clouds.

  I slipped between them and collapsed on a patch of bare dirt. Think, I told myself. There was a way out somewhere—I just had to find it. Unless... Dread slithered into my limbs, making a home for itself beside the quivering muscles. Unless the sand was the only way into the Dream Realm, and I gave it all to Katie. Not that I could have wielded it anyway. My eyes closed for the briefest moment, and I grappled with my fate. Why had I taken those pills? Why? When would they wear off?

  A breeze kicked up around me paired with a soft fluttering. My eyes popped open in time to see a wave of bees flee from the pink and yellow flowers nearby. Now what? I was careful not to move in case whatever it was hadn’t noticed me yet. Something cooed. A soft, happy sound, and I pressed myself into the ground. A stronger breeze skated over the field, the flowers trembling. Then a hooked beak nuzzled the top of my head. My breath caught. Another coo. Above me, a green parrot the size of an ostrich tilted its head back and forth. Black eyes reflected my disheveled appearance.

  Don’t eat me, I urged silently, not daring to speak.

  Its clawed feet scraped lazily across the ground, tearing up a row of flowers. It seemed to have no interest in me other than curiosity, but that could be part of its charm. A lure. I eased up onto my elbows and looked harder at my surroundings while keeping the bird in my peripheral vision. All around me, more metal posts rose, forming a circle. A shifting in the clouds revealed a swinging perch. A cage. I was in its cage.

  Something black and yellow galloped around the outer limits of the bars. The parrot squawked. Its wings beat furiously, and it soared into the air, the wind blowing dirt in my eyes. “Wake up, wake up, wake up,” I begged myself. I could try again. I could get the Sandman’s pouch back from Katie and pray there was enough left for me to get to the beach.

  The blur halted on the other side of the cage and stared at me. I blinked. “Baku?” Relief washed over me so quickly I was sure I would faint.

  The chimera motioned me toward him with a bob of his head. I struggled to my feet, feeling every tiny scrape and bruise. My legs wobbled with each step toward the Sandman’s friend. The bird’s eyes burned into my back in what felt like a warning. Perhaps it was—perhaps the bird expected I would be eaten like it would have been.

  “Where is he?” I slipped through the cage bars beside him. “Is he okay?”

  Baku nodded.

  A breath fell from deep in my chest, taking a slice of anxiety with it. “Where is he? How do I get there?”

  Baku turned slowly, his trunk reaching over to skim each bar as we passed. The bird flew into a frenzy of beating wings and high-pitched cries. I bit the inside of my cheek. There was no choice but to trust Baku as the Sandman did if I wanted to escape, but I couldn’t forget what he was. A predator. I might not have been on the menu but letting myself become too comfortable seemed dangerous.

  27

  The Sandman

  The hollowness in my chest ached, a dull, throbbing pain, begging for relief. I sat on the edge of my two-walled pavilion and shrugged out of my tunic. It smelled of iron and death. Remnants from 164 nightmares decorated the fabric, but I was still no closer to finding Nora. My muscles ached, and I kicked off my boots, contorting this way and that to remove the rest of my soiled clothes. I would cleanse the sand later. There wasn’t time to waste washing myself, let alone the beach. As soon as I recharged enough to steal more dreams, I had to go back.

  I leaned across the pillows and dragged a clean pair of pants from a built-in drawer on the wall. I tugged them on without standing up. The pillows cradled me, and sand crept up to my chest. The magic murmured against my tattoo. My eyes fluttered shut but flew open again when my imagination threw pictures of Nora’s face skewed in agony across my lids. If I could, I would take the dream from her now. Turn their attention to someone else, anyone else, long enough for me to rescue her. But she would have to give me permission. She had asked if I would be willing to, not if I would, and as small as it was, there was a difference. Besides, she was clear that day in the attic when she said she wanted to keep it. Even if there was the hint of consent before, she recanted it.

  “Sandman!”

  And now I was hearing Nora’s voice. I winced, pressing further into the pillows.

  “Sandman?”

  I jerked into a sitting position. Nora ran toward me clad completely in black, her blond hair pulled back in a loose braid. It had to be an illusion. A nightmare disguised as my deepest wish. The barriers around the beach must’ve worn down when I was busy in the Nightmare Realm, but finding Nora was more important. If the barriers to the Day World were in working order, she would be safe when I woke her.

  I called the sand up to my hand and closed my fingers around the handle of a whip. The light-weight thong coiled beside me. The nightmare was two feet away when she lunged. I braced myself for the attack. For claws or teeth. But none came. My grip loosened on the handle, and Nora’s arms wrapped around me. She buried her face in my neck, her shoulders shaking. She must have been crying because her cheeks were slick against my skin.

  It was really her. I dropped the whip and pressed her to me. “Nora?”

  “The Weaver said you were dead,” she whispered. “I didn’t want to believe him but when I fell asleep, you weren’t there.”

  “I was unconscious. Why didn’t you wait for me?”

  She paused, and her arms tightened around me. “What if you never came?”

  “I’ll always come. You know that.” I leaned back and smoothed the tears from her cheeks with my thumbs. She nodded but doubt still lingered in her eyes. A dull worry. “You’re okay? Nothing hurt you?”

  “I’m still in one piece.” She hesitated, then recounted her journey so fast I had trouble keeping up. “Then Rowan and Kail came with the Blood Army—”

  “The Blood Army?” I blurted. I scanned her over for wounds, but her fingers dug into my biceps, drawing my attention back to her face. To the dirt smudged against her freckles and the pieces of hair falling out of place. My heart cracked. “Why didn’t you wake up?”

  She pressed her lips into a straight line. “I’m fine.”

  I wanted to demand to know what happened, to know which nightmares I had to kill first for trapping her, but that wasn’t us. Nora and I had never forced the other to talk. Pushed maybe, but never demanded, so I bit my tongue. Later. After we were finished binding the Weaver. “Where did you get these?” I plucked at the sleeve of her leather vest.

  “Rowan.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Why would she give you clothes?”

  “She and Kail helped me escape the Barren.” Nora looked behind me, the moonlight reflected in her green eyes. “I wasn’t sure I would see this place again.”

  Neither was I. My hands ran up and down her arms. Feeling her. Memorizing her. Her legs straddled mine, the heat from her hands now warming my neck. Rowan and Kail helped her escape. Why? I opened my mouth to find out, but she spoke first.

  “Why did you keep this place hidden?”
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br />   Because I didn’t want to share this place with her or anyone else. At first because I knew I shouldn’t get too close to the Dream Keeper but, when I realized I already had, I needed this sanctuary more than ever. I came here every time my chest ached with want of someone I would never have. The one person I shouldn’t want. But I couldn’t admit that, so instead I shrugged.

  “We have to finish this,” she said in a flat, quiet voice. “Now. Before it’s too late.”

  “There’s time to regroup.”

  “No.” The word was sharp as a nail.

  I blinked, my heart squeezing. “Nora, are you sure you’re okay? I can bind the Weaver alone. I’ve done it before.”

  “Your energy wasn’t spread all over the Night World before,” she said matter-of-factly.

  She wasn’t wrong. I was stronger the first time. Without warding every entrance to the Day World and protecting her dreams, I might’ve been able to rebind the Weaver a long time ago. If I had bothered to check in with him before now, I wouldn’t have to. “I’m sorry I brought you into this,” I said. “I didn’t know things would end like this.”

  “I’m sorry too.” Her forehead thunk-ed on my shoulder.

  I stroked her hair. “What do you possibly have to be sorry for?”

  “Lying by omission?” She tensed against me. “I wasn’t trapped here because of a nightmare. I took three of my mother’s sleeping pills tonight to make sure I didn’t wake up before I had time to find you.”

  “Nora.” My hand stilled, my fingers twined in the base of her braid. “You shouldn’t have done that. What if you needed to wake up to survive? What if the pills hurt your body?”

  “I know, okay?” She shuddered. “Trust me, I know.”

  There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that she did. Or that she would wake up right then if she could, and maybe never come back. I rested my chin on her head. The bittersweet scent of nightmares clung to her, and I kissed her hair.