by Jules Hedger
Lucan walked beside me, staring ahead into the horizon and every so often looking at me sideways. The heat had dried his hair by this time and it curled slightly over his eyes. I felt sorry for his feet, which were bare and must have burned on the hot sand. But he didn't complain; in fact, he hadn't said a word since we had started our trek into the desert. And I was feeling chatty. Or bored.
"So tell me your story," I asked him, trying to sound enthusiastic. He shot me a quick glance but didn't slow down.
"Why would you want to know about my story? One of my stories ended once I was put up on that pole. A new story began when you took me down from it. So there's not much to tell that you don't already know." He looked back down at me. "We're only getting started."
"So then what about that first story. Perhaps open with why your half-brother left you to die in the middle of the desert?" I asked. I saw his jaw twitch and knew I hit a nerve. His steps grew wider and I cantered a bit to keep up. "Who were you?"
"I worked for Cirrus."
"You worked for Cirrus?" I repeated loudly. Somehow I just couldn't see this man in government. For one, he wasn't wearing a shirt . . .
"I was his apprentice when Cirrus worked for the Painter."
"Cirrus worked for my uncle?" I asked even louder. Thinking back, I dimly remembered Cirrus mentioning something about being his guardian . . . keeping the nightmares at bay. I grabbed his arm and pulled him short. "Wait, stop walking for a second. Explain. You mean, they knew each other?"
"Well, of course!" Lucan looked at me as if I were stupid. Great. Lucan had suddenly realized his student hadn't done any of the summer reading. "Your uncle was King and Creator. He had been around for as long as this land has been. And this land has been around for hundreds and hundreds of years. But so have the people who helped and protected him. Cirrus was just one of the many." He scoffed and shook his head. "He made you think he was special. That he was a treasured confidante. What a hack."
I was silent. Cirrus and my uncle might have been friends. Best friends or partners. I imagined him, Cirrus and Marty all sat around his dank apartment, shooting up and watching their fingers change shapes and their dreams crawl out through their mouths. I couldn't make Cirrus fit. His bright eyes were too calm, his body too graceful. But his mind . . . well yes, conflicted. Very.
"What did Cirrus do for my uncle?"
Lucan sighed and took my hand, pulling me along. His impatience was noticeable, but his steps became shorter to allow me to catch up. And eventually when we were in a rhythm, he released his grip.
"Cirrus was the latest of your uncle's Dream Catchers," he answered finally.
My breath hitched and without thinking my fingers went to the gold around my neck. A dreamcatcher. I was sure Lucan noticed, but he said nothing.
"Whatever goes on inside someone's head always begins in the head," Lucan continued. "And must stay in the head, or else it seeps into sleep and affects the body in ways you couldn't imagine. It was Cirrus's job to guard the Painter from those bad dreams. And my brother had his work cut out for him with that poison your uncle put in his blood." I could hear the disgust in his voice and held my tongue. "I was his apprentice and meant to be the next in an honored line of Dream Catchers to the Painter."
Shaking his head, his eyes misted over in betrayal. "Honor my ass."
"Alright, now why does Cirrus have such a grudge against you?"
Lucan suddenly turned around with a growl of frustration. I squealed in surprise, nearly knocking into his nose, and drew back quickly. He closed the space again as his eyes caught mine, facing off. There was suspicious glint in his eyes.
"Why all the questions, sweetheart? Shouldn't the Daughter of Palet have done her homework?"
I swallowed the lump that had become mysteriously lodged in my throat.
"Well, excuse me for accidently treading on your fragile pride –"
"If you knew me better, you'd know pride isn't my worst quality."
He was suddenly a bristling wolf again and I had to wonder what qualities he was talking about.
"I'm sorry, but I don't know you from Adam. All I have is your word that you're on my side." I said finally. He nodded slowly and I felt my lips twist up in a wry smile. "But how can I trust you?"
Lucan scoffed. "You can trust me, Maggie."
"That's what Marty said. And Tyler. And now look where I am. So if I have to ask questions to put the pieces together, I will. Deal with it." I placed my hands firmly on my hips and waited. It was a face-off, all right.
Lucan cocked a questioning eyebrow.
"You really want to know why Cirrus hates me? You want to humiliate me that badly?"
"Obviously, humiliation is exactly what this exercise is about. Safety be damned, let's make a grown man blush," I shot back, rolling my eyes. I was trying to joke, but he quickly turned his face away uncomfortably.
"One night Cirrus was off to attend a Council dinner in Palet and I was to take over for him for the night." He cleared his throat. "I let a dream slip through."
"It snuck past or something?" Lucan ran his fingers thorough his hair and sighed. "Well, what?"
"I had a visitor that evening. I might have been a bit . . . preoccupied."
It took a few seconds. I mean, I am no prude but it didn't come at once. Until it did and I could not stop, so help me God, the grin from spreading across my face. I hiccupped the first giggle but as the rouge spread down his neck, I began to laugh.
"You were having sex," I clarified. He looked surprisingly ashamed for a man as confrontational as I'd seen thus far. "Oh come on, that's not so bad."
"I let down my family, let down my Creator. The dream that slipped through was the beginning of the end."
"How is a big guy like you even embarrassed?"
Lucan turned around and grabbed me sharply by the wrist. It cut my laugh short and the shock of his touch, the possessiveness and force of his grip, took me completely by surprise. A growl rumbled in his throat and before I could fully grasp the situation, his body had closed the gap between us. My breath hitched as his chest pressed up hard against mine and I could feel the shape of his cock firm against my hips. And he knew it, because he smiled faintly through his simmering anger.
"The sex was incredible," he murmured. "Passionate. Searing." I heard a small, childish sound of dismay slip from my throat. "Wet." He licked his lips and allowed his eyes to flicker downwards, not to my necklace this time but the skin bared underneath. "A big guy like me is certainly not embarrassed." His hot breath hit my lips, sending an ache of panic over my skin that rippled through my body from the tips of my head to the tops of my thighs. Or at least I think it was panic.
My mind fumbled for the on-switch, but kind of gave up at some point. He smelled like old wood, musk and sweat and it swept over the bare parts of my skin in breathless waves of stinging tingles. I think at one point my eyes closed of their own accord, falling through the warmth pooling in my belly. It was a few moments before I realized he had let me go. And far from lust or want, his face was twisted up in smug disgust.
"But you should be embarrassed, little girl. You are the next in line for the throne. I am merely an animal. Act your station." He spat into the sand and started to move off again slowly, because he knew I had to follow.
Motherfucker.
My face burned in humiliation. I watched his retreating back as the heat in my stomach cooled down. I didn't know if I had been seduced or shanghaied but it felt horrible. The smartass has turned the tables and snatched away any power I thought I had gained, leaving me hanging upside down from a tree branch by my bony ankle.
Now I really did know what his worst quality was. But if I was being honest with myself, I had to say it was also his best.
For the next half hour I walked a fair distance behind Lucan, partly because I was so angry but also because I was beginning to feel bad; bad for not trusting him, bad for laughing at an insecurity I obviously didn't understand. More than anything, I
was sorry that I had asked in the first place. And true to self-deprecating form, the apology won over.
"Lucan," I called, keeping a few steps back. "I'm sorry." I didn't hear an answer but I was sure he heard me. "I said I was sorry. I didn't mean to belittle your situation."
"You can belittle anyone you want," he threw back behind him. "Thus is your birthright and thus is ours to tolerate it."
I ran to catch up with him. His face was back to playing poker and as the wind picked up, it blew the soft waves of dark hair from his brow.
"No, it can't be like that. We need to be equals."
"Not while that symbol is around your neck," Lucan said quickly, but stopped when he saw my hand extended towards him. I was not going to let our relationship walk around undefined until he either killed me or kissed me. There was the boundary; the line drawn in the sand.
"Unfair. Stop it. Be my friend."
Lucan gave a little snort of frustration and slapped my hand away. "Fine, but I am not shaking your hand." He started to walk off again, but turned to point a finger in my face. "And can I give you a little advice for free? Stay away from my brother."
"I think that's the entire point, Lucan."
"No, I mean everything. Stay away from him." His mouth struggled to find the words. "My brother has a way . . . and I can tell, just by looking at you, that he's already made a mark. But I can also tell that you don't fully understand what Cirrus is asking you. But you should. You should have understood before you entered Palet."
"Well, then stop acting cryptic and tell me."
"He's asking you to give up your mind to him."
The words hung in the air between us and the confusion of hearing them said out loud – from the mouth of an almost stranger who was brave enough to say them – made me want to run. Lucan saw me freeze, but refused to fill the silence. He just stood there expectantly.
"How do you know about that?" I finally breathed, walking quickly past him. Now it was my turn to flee. He followed, his large legs not having to work very hard to keep up.
"He could see everything, Maggie. I know you have a problem with trust, so why Cirrus? He's just about the worst fucking person to open yourself up to."
"I don't know," I replied, feeling the confusion grow. I wanted to hit him really hard in the jaw, just to make me stop thinking about it. "What business is it of yours?"
"My thoughts and inner dreams are mine and mine alone. Some I choose to give away, but it's my choice. I don't answer to anyone, least of all a partner, a lover, or a friend. Because once they see the good stuff they need to see the utter shit, too. The dark corners of our mind, the judgments we make on people –"
"You think I want to share it all with him?" I asked.
"Then why would you let him in?" Lucan countered loudly.
"I don't know!" I yelled, whipping around and pushing him as hard as I could in the chest. He didn't go over – he was much too strong to do that – but he had the decency to move a few steps back. "Because I am going to lose. Because he's so sad!" What a stupid reason. What a stupid, damaged reason.
Lucan's expression remained hard. "My brother has been sad for a long time. He's only been watching you for a little less. You lose this game, you lose everything."
"So, if you know all this you must know I don't have a choice," I spat.
"You always have a choice," he answered. Grim. He seemed to sense my train of thought and grinned suddenly. "Still want to be my friend?"
I looked at him through seething eyes.
"No."
And Lucan laughed and kept walking through the sand. And I, of course, followed.
Chapter 14
The sun was leaking red and orange down the sky when the dreams stopped. We didn't notice for a bit, both of us lost in our own thoughts and demons, but soon the emptiness of the large, open space shoved us both back into awareness. The wind had started to swirl the sand around our feet and the sweat on my neck had long cooled and dried.
"Night is falling," Lucan said simply.
"Good, I am really tired of walking," I mumbled, hoisting the backpack higher on my tired shoulders.
"We should have found someone by now" He glanced quickly around and sighed. "It usually doesn't take more than a few hours to encounter a dream willing to make interaction."
"Well, it's better to find nothing than to find something horrible." I said, throwing my hook far into the bright side. Lucan grimaced and I caught him shake away a shiver. I suddenly felt sorry for my guide. If night was really on the way it was going to get cold. And Lucan didn't have much more than 9999999some torn pants.
And the air did get pretty chilly. Our breath rose in small puffs of white mist and as our vision became fuzzy with the oncoming night, it was soon hard not to stumble on the sudden uprisings and falls of the desert. Looking up, I couldn't see any stars, just a dark sky tucked in under a blanket of clouds.
Lucan and I walked without conversation and in the still of the night noises popped up in the distance; calls of dreams from far away, living out their lives in the little worlds constructed for them. Some landed closer, the nightlife of their cosmos differing from a hushed flurry of whispers to the trumpet blare of an approaching parade. One dream landed just beyond the rise of the next dune, the lovely starting of a slow string quartet. But none of them stayed long enough to let themselves be greeted. After just a few moments the dreams flew off, popping off somewhere else beyond the vision and hearing of Lucan or me.
"We need to stop, Maggie," Lucan said as the dark settled fully over the landscape. "There's no point walking in this pitch."
I lowered myself gingerly onto the sand and heard Lucan settle down next to me with a series of huffs and gruff complaints. The hours he was on that cross must have taken its toll; I could hardly imagine the stress his muscles must have taken to be strapped up there for so long. I dug my fingers into the sand reflectively.
"I'm thirsty," I said, more to myself than Lucan.
"Sorry, sweetheart. I wish I knew it would be this hard," I heard him answer from the right. "At least Cirrus will have trouble seeing you in this dark."
A wind blew through my hair, a breeze so cold this time that it made me gasp. It held bits of water, drops of wet that pricked my face like small pins. I licked the sting off my lips and tasted the memory of my father in the seaside. I tasted salt and a slight vinegar tang of fish and chips.
"Lucan, there's salt water in the air," I said.
The wind blew harder, stirring up whirls of sand, and I was forced to throw my hands in front of my face to prevent any grains from flying into my eyes. I struggled to stand up against the wind.
"I think the magic word was 'thirsty'." I jumped when Lucan's hand clamped down on my arm. The faint outline of his face emerged close to mine, looking out into the dark. "If I'm not mistaken, I think a dream has finally found us."
The cry of a foghorn blared out into the night and my heart leapt into my mouth as the sound of the new world fell upon us in a tsunami wave. We were suddenly flooded with a thick beam of yellow light that came from somewhere above. Scrambling up and bent double in the wind, we looked about as the beam swept around the landscape.
We were on a beach, dangerously close to the waterline of violently crashing waves. The sea wind raged, blowing hair around my face like a wild nest of snakes. I squinted my eyes and saw, at the end of the pebble-strewn coastline, a lighthouse standing sentry at the rocky top. The shaft of light moved from its tip, revolving slowly around the beach.
"Couldn't have found a more comfortable dream, could we?" Lucan shouted into the wind. The foghorn blew again and the light flickered back to where we stood, bracing ourselves against each other. It flashed twice and moved across the sand to the bottom of its rocky hill. "You think it wants us to follow it?" Lucan said, amusement lining the edges of his voice and I saw his wild grin flash up again briefly – this is what he loved: the unknown. The danger.
"Come on, then. Let's please get
off this beach," I breathed, grabbing his hand and pulling him into a run towards the hill.
Lucan and I made our way across the beach towards the beacon until the sand under our feet merged into a dirt path through the rocks. The slope was easy and much to our relief the wind became mercifully gentler as we started the ascent; although it still blew the cold into our clothes, it at least didn't bite with sea spray.
It took us more than a quarter of an hour to reach the top of the hill. The lighthouse rose up before us, a tall tower of hard stone, weathered in many places by wind and the rub of sand. It looked like it must have stood this storm for a hundred years.
"Someone lives here?" I asked doubtfully. "It seems like a pretty miserable place to be." Lucan shrugged, looking around for a door knocker. On the upper right door post was a small bell to ring when the weather was calm; however, in the wild gale the bell swung around as if possessed, its sound swallowed up in the wind.
On the left door post was a faded and weather-stricken sign that read, "If bell is broken, knock lightly."
"Knock lightly?" Lucan scoffed. "If the bell can't be heard, how are they supposed to hear a light knock?"
I looked at his large arms and secretly agreed. But I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.
"Looks like we won't need your brute strength for this one," I said airily, reaching up to the door. Lucan smiled, but I pretended not to notice. I tapped my knuckles lightly on the splintered surface and on the third tap the door was swung open by a pair of small, wizened hands. Their owner peered out onto the doorstep and gestured hastily.
"Inside, inside, now," he encouraged, his voice cracking. "Waste any more time and you'll bring the whole sea in behind you!"
Lucan and I hurried inside and the man closed the door behind us, pushing it hard against the wind trying desperately to force its way in. Lucan reached above the man's head and gave the wood a smart shove, effectively shutting out both the sweeping rain that had begun to batter down and the crashing sound of the waves. The quiet fell over us like a blanket.
