by Shea Berkley
Reece nods at the squares. “What’re they for?”
“Earplugs, unless you want to hear your death song…”
Reece holds out his hand. “Not today, thanks.” He begins rolling them into manageable balls. “How do we know it’s still in there and not out here?”
“Dreamweavers are mostly nocturnal.” Signe gives me two of the squares. “They rarely, if ever, leave their burrows. They wait for unsuspecting victims to walk by and then lure them in.” What she’s saying pretty much matches what Baun told me. I have no reason to doubt her.
I scour the ground, bend, and show them four stones. “Time to knock on the door and see if he wants to come out and play.”
We set ourselves up within the trees opposite the entrance. Signe stuffs the fabric into her ears and hides far to the left, while Reece and I pocket the fabric and find a few more rocks the size of our fists and get ready to play ball.
I step out and fling the first rock into the entrance, ripping a hole through the fine webbing covering the opening. I duck back into the cover of the trees beside Reece.
He smiles. “Rang the doorbell with that one.”
He steps out and spins a rock into the burrow. We hear it thunk against a far wall. Reece dives back into our hiding place and we wait. When nothing happens, I step out and throw another hardball. The clatter of it bouncing reaches our ears.
Two more rocks, and nothing but the sound of rock hitting rock bounces around the entrance of the burrow. Reece steps up and zings one in. There isn’t any wind, but I can see the webbing we haven’t managed to destroy jiggle slightly. I point it out to Reece. “I think we’ve finally got his attention.”
Stepping out again, I pull my arm back and throw. The rock enters, but there’s no sound.
Reece and I exchange a quick glance. He fishes for the fabric Signe gave him and stuffs it in his ears. I wave him off, and he dashes to where Signe waits. I put the fabric in my ears and all sound disappears. I hear my heartbeat. Hear every time I swallow. I palm another rock.
Before I can throw it, all the rocks we’ve thrown come zipping out. I dodge them all except one that hits my side, either cracking my ribs or giving me the worst cramp ever. Either way, I accidently drop the rock I was about to throw.
I clamp my hand over the spot and rub as I stumble backward, keeping my eyes glued to the burrow entrance. I’m only slightly worried my side will slow me down, but not enough to stop me. Kera is in there and I’ll risk anything to free her.
I stoop, pick up another rock, and toss it in the air, testing its weight. The webbing flutters. He’s close, waiting, gauging my bravery. I’m teasing him like a bullfighter in the ring, daring him to come forward.
I pull back my arm, and just before I throw it, the boy lunges out of the burrow, his six arms flailing, his dirty long hair flying, and his ragged pants hanging off his bone-thin hips. One after the other, he flings six pieces of thin, needle-like bone, pointy end first, toward me. I keep a step ahead, and when the last missile flies past, I heave the rock, smacking him in the chest. Lunging into the woods, I throw myself behind the first tree big enough to hide me.
Peeking around the trunk, I stare at the place his hands should be and see bone growing like shark teeth moving in to fill a bite gap. This guy can regenerate faster than a lizard in a crowded aquarium. Snarling and clicking his teeth, he paces, flexing his arms. With each contraction, the bone lengthens a little more.
Behind him, I see Signe and Reece slip into the burrow. The Dreamweaver spins around and stares at the entrance. He’s heard them. He can see the webbing jiggle with their movements. I can’t let him go back inside. I draw my sword and run straight for him, screaming Braveheart-style.
Without looking at me, he points an arm and shoots a new bone needle. I deflect it with my sword and keep running toward him. Another arm rises. Another needle flies out. I deflect that one, too. I’m almost on him, and the boy turns and frowns at me like I’m a pest. His lips start moving. I can’t hear what he’s saying, and then I’m glad I can’t. He’s singing my death song.
Too bad I’m not ready to die yet.
I swing. My blade connects with two of his bony appendages. Another slashes a thin line along my cheek. I barely avoid the next bony needle by pulling back, and when I do, my sword skids off the bones without making a mark. My sword always leaves behind a mark. I jump away and dart back in. Thrust up, hit bone. Duck. Spin to the left. Lunge forward and slash his hamstring. Roll away. A needle stabs into the ground, barely missing me.
A solid kick to his injured leg drops him to his knee. I jump to my feet and run into the forest, hoping he’ll follow. The cut to his hamstring is deep, and when he stands, the boy snarls, showing bloodstained teeth. I push through the underbrush, moving from hiding place to hiding place. He doesn’t enter the trees, only stands at the edge, pacing. Waiting. He knows I won’t leave, that I’m here for Kera. I pick up a rock, jump out from my hiding place, and throw it, hitting him square on his spine. A bony dart spikes through the foliage and hits me in the thigh. I stagger back and fall. My sword slips from my hand.
He turns, and a triumphant smile settles on his face. He drags his leg behind him as he moves toward me.
I don’t dare take my eyes off the Dreamweaver. Reaching over my head, I feel for my sword, but I can’t find it. Strands of dirty long hair string over the boy’s face as he approaches. He raises an arm and I roll, barely missing being stabbed to the earth. Two more needles fly. I grab my satchel and deflect the needles, but one grazes my left arm and lands nearby.
He’s singing again. I’m actually tempted to listen, and that kinda freaks me out. I think my earplugs were knocked loose. I hum, blocking any sound that may get through, and pat the ground all around me for my sword.
It’s nowhere. The boy stands over me. The bony needles grow longer and longer. His smile turns evil, his song louder. I can hear my death song like a sweet whisper through the fabric. I hum louder. I can’t find my sword. I begin to sweat, and then my hands knock into the two bony needles he shot at me. Grabbing one in each hand, I yank them out of the ground and in one motion, slam them into his chest. Shock spreads on his face. My death song dies on his lips and he topples backward.
“Dylan!”
The sound of a female screaming penetrates what remains of my earplugs. I rip them out as well as the needle sticking out of my thigh and struggle to my feet. Signe bursts out of the burrow, and behind her, Reece emerges, dragging a long white shell. My heart tightens. It’s Kera.
Signe is crying and talking at the same time. I limp over, grab her shoulders and shake her. “Stop it. I can’t understand you.”
She swallows her sobs. “We cannot remove it. Whatever we try fails.”
Unmindful of my leg, I race back for my sword, and when I bring it down at the base of the cocoon, it sizzles, but it doesn’t burn or cut through the hard shell.
This can’t be happening.
Signe drops to her knees by Kera’s head and places her hand on the cocoon. “It’s so cold. She’s stopped moving. Do something.”
If my sword can’t cut through, I have no idea what can. And then I see one of the Dreamweaver’s needles. I scoop it up and yell for Signe to move. One hard jab and it’s through the hard shell and into the gummy mass near Kera’s head. I stick my finger in and feel for her mouth. Using the needle, I rip through the cocoon until I can see blue lips. She’s freezing and not breathing. Reece and Signe drop down next to me, each holding a needle, and begin to rip into the cocoon with me. In less than a minute she’s free.
“Get back,” I yell. Placing my hands over Kera’s heart, I don’t think about failure. I send a jolt of energy. Her body arches, then lands lifeless on the ground. I send another jolt. I can hear Signe softly crying, hear Reece cuss. I touch Kera’s neck for a pulse. Nothing.
“Wake up, Kera! Wake UP!”
I press down over her heart again and pump out a massive jolt of energy. Her body jumps a
good two inches off the ground, and when she hits, her mouth pops open and her chest rises with a deep breath. I scoop her into a sitting position and hug her tightly to me. She’s shivering and covered in gooey God knows what. I wipe her wet hair out of her face and whisper in her ear. “I thought I’d lost you. You’re going to be okay. I’ve got you. I’m not going to let go.”
I look at Reece and Signe. “Let’s get out of here.”
Kera slips her arms around my neck and presses her lips against my ear. “He’s coming.”
She’s shivering so violently, I’m not sure if it’s from the cold or fear. I stand with her in my arms, and pull slightly away to stare into her big violet eyes. “I killed the Dreamweaver. He won’t hurt you ever again.”
“No. Baun. He’s been set free.”
The Walking Wounded
Hadrain freed my father and all because Kera implanted a thought deep in his brain. It sounds completely unethical and exactly like something my dad would do.
I glance at Signe and Reece, who are deep in conversation ahead of us, and hear them worry over where Blaze has gone. He wasn’t where we left him and that’s got us all on edge.
At least they aren’t paying attention to Kera and me. I can’t keep the irritation out of my voice. “He used you, Kera. He manipulated you. That’s what he does. Signe is the one who found you.”
She shakes her head adamantly. “I know he helped you somehow. You just don’t want to admit it.”
He did help, but not in a way that he can take any credit for saving Kera, though I don’t think that’ll stop him from trying.
My leg is on fire, and carrying Kera isn’t helping, but I’m not about to let her go. We used the water in my canteen to clean her hands and face, but goo still clings to her hair and body. She’s shivering like a Chihuahua in a room full of pit bulls, so I let the heat I hold deep in my core warm my skin, and she cuddles closer.
I shift her in my arms and calmly repeat what I’ve been saying for the last ten minutes. “As soon as we find Blaze, we’re leaving.”
“Not without Baun.”
“We can’t trust him, Kera,” I say louder than I should, but I’m getting frustrated, and I’m beginning to wonder how much he messed with her mind.
She stubbornly shakes her head. “Baun has changed. I know he has.” She places her palm against my cheek and gently runs her thumb over the line of blood I feel drying along my cut. “He has been tortured enough, Dylan, and I would as soon leave him here as I would you.”
She kisses the corner of my mouth, and then lays her head on my shoulder.
The loyalty of the firsts. It can be unreasonable when activated. “We don’t know where he is.”
“He will find us.”
Saving Kera is as natural to me as my next heartbeat. Waiting for my messed-up dad to appear from the hole he’s been imprisoned in since I was born goes against my better judgment. Looking at Kera, I know I don’t have a choice. She’s not budging without my dad.
“Fine.” Sweat pops out on my upper lip. Carrying her shouldn’t take this much effort, but my leg is bothering me more and more. I need to stop and sit down. “We’ll do it your way, but if I say we leave, we leave. No questions. Okay?”
“Agreed, so long as we have your father with us.”
I groan and continue following our friends, my leg aching with every step. A few times I have to blink to still the ground from spinning. I lag farther behind Signe and Reece, though this time, not on purpose. The ground pitches again. A wave of dizziness follows, and I stumble for a second.
“Dylan?” There’s tension in Kera’s voice.
I blink, trying to clear my head, but this is no problem I can blink away. I’m losing my grip. “Can you still heal?” The question is gravelly and slightly slurred.
My vision blurs and I drop to my knees, still holding Kera. She gasps and pulls out of my arms. Signe and Reece are beside us before I hit the ground, and Reece helps me lie back.
I hear my jeans being ripped and then see Reece’s face hovering above me. “You said it was a scratch. That’s not a scratch. Dude, are you trying to bleed to death?”
Signe steps away…or is she pushed by Kera?
“Let me see,” Kera says and scrambles to where I’m wounded.
I stop her from touching me. “You’re not strong enough yet.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
I close my eyes and feel the heat of her hands on my thigh. I want to buck away, but Reece is holding down my leg.
When Kera sits back, the pain is gone. She looks pale and wilted as she uses her fingers to comb her stringy hair out of her face. It’s harder for us to access our powers in the Unknown. We aren’t recharging as quickly as we should. I take her hand in mine. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“You shouldn’t have come here, but you did. Even when I told you to stay away.”
“I couldn’t stay away. You know that.”
“And I can’t stand to watch you suffer.”
Heavy footfalls sound, and we all turn and see a monstrous head pushing through the undergrowth.
I push up onto my elbows, feeling much better. “It’s about time you showed up.”
Blaze sees Kera and a gurgle escapes his throat. Reece jumps up and pulls Signe out of the way as the well-fed dragon squeezes between two trees and gets stuck. Signe pats the dragon’s bulging side. “Is it me, or has he grown?”
“His belly has, at least,” Reece says. “I have a feeling he’ll eat anything that wanders his way.”
The trees crack and give, letting Blaze pass. His hot snout nudges Kera’s shoulder, and she slips a hand under a loose scale for a good scratch. His legs collapse under him and a deep, rumbling purr erupts from his throat along with a puff of sulfur-tainted smoke.
We all cough and wave our hands to clear the air. I push to a sitting position and scooch back. “If he’s going to mouth-fart every time you scratch him, can I be the first one to suggest you not scratch him?”
“Sorry.” Kera stops and helps me to my feet. “How does your leg feel?”
“Good.” I hop on it and there’s no pain. Not even a twinge. “Really good.”
I’m impressed by her power to heal. It’s one I wish I had.
I’m ridiculously happy, actually. I don’t know if it’s a side effect of her healing, or that I’m relieved she’s here. With me. Alive.
I touch her cheek, gaining her full attention. “How do you feel?”
“Gooey,” she says, a smile tipping the edges of her lips. “I need a bath.”
“I promise, the first puddle I see, I’ll push you in it.”
She laughs, the sound bright and clear. “You are so kind.”
“Here.” Reece hands her the canteen from his supply bag. “Take a shower, but do it on the go. The one thing I’ve learned about this place is the longer we stay, the bigger chance we have of something nasty jumping out at us.”
Reece walks back over to Signe, pulls her to her feet, and pushes her in the direction of the bridge, completely deaf to her complaint that she was in the middle of tying her shoe. “Come on,” he calls back to us.
The leaves on the trees shimmer prettily in the dappled light. I don’t see anything scary lurking around. “Seems quiet.”
“Reece is correct to be cautious.” Kera takes my hand and pulls me after her. “Never trust a quiet wood.” Seeing my frown, she says, “It’s a first proverb, and you know what they say about proverbs.”
“No. What?”
“Every proverb started with a problem.”
When she puts it like that, I don’t like quiet woods, either.
We trudge along, and I fill her in on Jason and how he’s gone all psycho on us. She bites her lip, and says she’s not surprised, and relates the dream she shared with him.
I can’t hide my surprise. “Why do you think Jason wanted to share his dream with you?”
“I don’t think he did. I think he was as surprised
to find me in his dream as I was to be there.”
A low rumble sounds and I glance at Blaze, our now half-ton dragon, following close behind us. Every so often I’ve noticed him peering up through the branches and letting out a deep rumble. I hush him every time, but he won’t stop. Through the breaks in the trees, I see something big dart across the sky.
“Please tell me you’re not calling another dragon for a play date.”
Kera cocks her head, listening. “He’s made strange noises a couple of times, but that one was different. I think it may be a challenge.”
I glare over my shoulder. Blaze’s chest is puffed, and he’s searching the sky. “Ready to assert your dominance, are you, big boy?” I jab my finger in his direction. “Stop it. Bad dragon.”
Blaze drops his head and snuffles an especially fragrant huff.
Reece suddenly stops. “Dylan.”
His call is softer than what it should be, and it raises the hair on my arms. I position Kera by Blaze. “If anything bad happens, get on him and go.”
Her lips pinch together mutinously, and I point my finger at her. “I mean it.”
“But I’m just as able to—”
“Please do what I say for once without arguing.” I don’t wait to hear what else she wants to say. When I pass Signe, I tell her to join Kera.
Reece has worked his way forward to the edge of the trees and is low to the ground. The bridge isn’t that far off. More than a Hail Mary football throw away, but seeable. What I didn’t expect is the sound of logging and the building of shelters all along the edge of the Unknown. There are all manner of creatures roaming around, and a few appear innocently human.
Farther in, I see inky black ribbons, their shape smokelike. In the center of it all stands a man I know all too well.
Kera comes alongside me. I close my eyes and groan. “Why can’t you stay put?”
“Is that Granel? What’s he doing here?”
