by Helen Harper
I weave my way in and out. The trees themselves are monstrously tall but this isn’t like the dark, gloomy forest in the Dreamlands. Here, sunlight filters down, throwing shapes and shadows across the pine-needle-littered ground. The setting is remarkably realistic, which isn’t always the case, so I assume her family holiday is helping to set the scene.
I eventually catch up to her beside a small, babbling brook. She’s kneeling down at the water’s edge while gold-coloured fish leap out of the water in front of her. There’s such a look of intense pleasure on her face that I do little more than watch for a moment. She creates arcs with her arms for the fish to jump through; their movements become more and more elaborate as she spins her own fishy acrobatic circus. Miniature rainbows appear over the water, casting multi-coloured shadows across the girl’s face. She reaches out to one and pulls it into her before wrapping it round her neck like a scarf. Her movement disturbs the fish antics and interrupts their mid-air cartwheeling. One particularly large koi leaps upwards and spins, then fixes its glassy eyes on me as if in shock.
The girl notices and turns. She grins at me in delight. I freeze. Dream Travellers like me are usually invisible.
‘Isn’t this amazing?’ she breathes.
As I’ve discovered, the dream world doesn’t recognise language differences. It doesn’t lessen my shock, however. I lick my lips nervously. ‘You can see me?’
She laughs. ‘Of course, silly! You’re the English lady with the fat cat.’
Despite the situation, I bristle on the Chairman’s behalf. He’s not that chubby. Then I shake it off. I walk over to the girl and reach out, my fingers lightly brushing her cheek. She giggles again and mimics my movement, doing the same back to me. I can feel her warm touch on my skin. Well, well, well.
‘You’re a Traveller,’ I say.
She nods seriously. ‘We’re on holiday.’
‘No.’ I grimace. ‘That’s not what I mean.’ I kneel down and take her hands. ‘Have you been to the Dreamlands yet?’
She cocks her head, obviously puzzled. ‘No. Isn’t this the land of dreams?’
‘Well,’ I demur, ‘it is and it is isn’t.’
‘You’re not making any sense.’
I take a deep breath. This has never happened to me before. Most Travellers – those who have the ability to journey to the Dreamlands and remember their visit – don’t manifest there until after puberty. That’s why this girl is still having dreams of her own. There’s no doubt, however, that she can see and talk to me because she’s one of us, whether she knows it yet or not. The odds against finding a future Traveller like this by accident must be astronomical.
‘In a few years’ time,’ I tell her, ‘it will all make sense. You’re a very special girl. You just don’t know it yet.’
She wrinkles her nose. ‘My mum says I’m special all the time. She has to say that though because she’s my mum.’
‘You should believe her. She’s right.’ I consider my options and weigh up how much to tell her. I found it really hard dealing with the revelations of the Dreamlands and I was an adult when I learnt about them. ‘One day in the future you’re going to visit a town when you’re asleep. It’ll be pretty and clean and there will be lots of people there who are like you, people who can travel through dreams. When it happens, don’t be afraid. You’ll make lots of friends. It’s a fun place to be.’ The lie glides off my tongue and I wince slightly. It would be fun if it weren’t for the Department.
The girl doesn’t notice; instead she gazes at me in confusion. ‘Why can’t I go there now?’
‘I don’t know. That’s just the way it is, I guess.’
Her clear brown eyes don’t leave mine. ‘You’re very strange.’
I laugh. ‘Yes, I suppose I am.’
There’s a scuffle in the trees behind us, followed by the sound of snapping twigs. I spin round and almost topple over. The girl, however, claps her hands in delight. ‘A unicorn!’
What? My eyes widen in alarm and I scramble up. ‘Stay back!’ I warn her as a dark shape emerges, its lethal pointed horn lowered as if it’s ready to charge. ‘It’s not a unicorn. It’s a night mare. They can be dangerous.’
‘Pffft!’ She pushes past me before I can stop her, reaches out and strokes the mare’s muzzle. ‘It’s so soft.’
I stare at the mare’s black glossy coat. It swings its head towards me and seems to snicker quietly in my direction. I frown. ‘Pegasus?’
The French girl rolls her eyes expressively. ‘That’s a stupid name. It doesn’t have wings.’
The mare whinnies as if in agreement. I take a step closer, trying not to alarm it. ‘Is everything okay?’ I ask carefully.
‘No,’ a melodious voice answers. ‘Everything is not okay, Zoe from the quiet lands.’
I stiffen as Lilith herself glides out towards us. She brushes her fingers along the mare’s mane and smiles at it gently. I simply gape. ‘How did you…?’
She raises one perfect eyebrow. ‘How did we find you? It has not been easy. We have had to wait for a long time for you to appear. It’s only because of this young one,’ she says, gesturing towards the girl, ‘that we sensed you.’
‘Because she’s a Traveller?’
Lilith inclines her head. ‘Or she will be.’
‘You’re so beautiful,’ the girl says, staring at her.
Lilith smiles. ‘I know.’ She raises her arm and, in an elegant motion that I could never hope to replicate no matter how many times I tried, sweeps her fingers towards the brook. ‘You should tend to your fish. They’re getting lonely.’
The girl’s mouth forms a perfect O then she whirls round and darts over, cooing at the dream creatures.
Lilith waits for a moment and then glances at me expectantly. ‘Where have you been?’
Running. Hiding. ‘Busy,’ I answer. Worry flits through me. ‘Is everything alright? Is there a problem? Is that why you’re here?’ There’s a gnawing lurch in my stomach. ‘Is Ashley okay? Bron?’
Lilith looks at me. ‘I do not know who these people are.’
I grind my teeth. ‘Yes, you do. You’ve met them before.’
She lifts her shoulders in a slow shrug. ‘They are not important to me.’ Something hardens in her eyes. ‘But you are the dreamweaver. You are important. And you should not be here.’
My mouth is dry. ‘Where should I be?’
‘Stopping them.’
‘The Department?’ My veins run ice cold. ‘What are they doing?’
‘They are looking for you. Searching … everywhere.’ An expression of disgust crosses her unblemished face. ‘Disturbing me all the time.’
I exhale. ‘They still think I’m in Britain.’ That’s good. Very good.
‘You are thinking of making a deal with them.’ It’s not a question.
I have no idea how Lilith knows this but there’s a great deal about the succubus I could never begin to understand. ‘I might not have a choice,’ I tell her.
‘Do not do this.’ Her tone suggests she’s not willing to brook any argument. ‘The Dreamlands have existed since before humans. This … Department is new. And I do not like them. You must stop them.’
I have the feeling that Lilith’s demands are more to do with her peace and tranquility being ruined rather than any concern over what the Department might do in the dream world to manipulate the real world. All the same, her words chime a chord. ‘I don’t know how to stop them,’ I say in frustration.
‘You are the weaver. You must find a way. Otherwise, they will find you and they will use you.’
‘But…’
Pegasus whinnies in sudden alarm, interrupting the conversation. His ears are flat against his head.
‘I will go now,’ Lilith says. She crooks her finger at me. ‘No deals. Destroy them.’ She pauses. ‘And him.’
There’s a yelp from behind me. The bottom drops out of my world when I spin round to see Dante standing less than three feet away. He’s holding the French girl close to
him. Lilith and Pegasus have already vanished; now it’s just the three of us.
‘Run,’ Dante says silkily, ‘and I will hurt her.’
He must have caught up with me in the same way that Lilith did. I stare into his silver eyes, doing what I can to quash my panic. ‘You wouldn’t hurt a child. She’s a Traveller, Dante. Or at least she will be. Hurt her here and…’
‘You don’t get it, Zoe. No, I wouldn’t normally hurt an innocent. I’m not an evil person, even though you seem to think I am. But you have to understand that you are more important than every Traveller and every outlier. You are more important than her. If doing this gets your attention,’ he gestures down at the girl’s writhing body as she tries to escape from him, ‘then so be it.’
‘I’m not going to let you use me,’ I spit.
He sighs. ‘I’m not trying to use you. I want us to work together. You know we can make the world a better place. If we combine our strengths and skills—’
‘I will never, ever work with you.’
Dante holds the squirming girl at arm’s length and takes a step towards me. His perfectly chiselled lips curve into a small, knowing smile. ‘But, Zoe,’ he purrs, ‘you already have. Together we brought the Mayor down. We’ve already made the Dreamlands a better place. I can help you stop the Department. Then the two of us can make sure that no one like that ever tries to run the Dreamlands again. We can set the world free.’
I glare at him with bitter malevolence. ‘Like you set Ashley free?’
‘I made a mistake with her. But it’s not easy working against the Department on my own.’
‘You don’t want to work against the Department, Dante. You want to lead them. You want to be like them.’ My heart hardens. ‘Worse than them.’
‘That’s not true. I know I made a mistake with Ashley.’ He gazes at me before dropping his voice. ‘Haven’t you ever screwed up?’ he asks huskily. ‘I can make it up to you. You need to give me the chance.’ His eyes drift down my body, lingering on my breasts. The flare of heat I feel in my groin galls me beyond belief.
‘What happened to “if you can’t beat them, join them”?’ I say accusingly, repeating the words he said to me when I confronted him about his betrayal.
‘By joining the Department, we can beat them. We’re the same, you and I.’ His eyes hold smoky promise. ‘Just think about what we could do together.’
‘Capture small children and hold them hostage, you mean?’
Anger flares in his expression. ‘Tell me where you are and I’ll let the kid go. I don’t want to hurt her.’
‘Screw you.’
‘Zoe, if you don’t give yourself up to me the Department will find you. They know who you are now. They were going to find out sooner or later and they’re already putting plans in place to bring you in. It’s getting dangerous and I don’t want you to get hurt.’
The worst thing is that I know he’s telling the truth: he really doesn’t want me to get hurt. But that’s only because he wants to use me. It’s only because I’m the dreamweaver.
I ball my hands up into fists. ‘Let her go.’
‘Zoe…’
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the girl raise her head then she opens her mouth and, with one swift movement, bites Dante hard on the arm. He immediately releases her and she sprints off into the trees.
‘You’re a bastard.’ I disapparate out, waking myself up.
While Adam snores next to me, I scramble to my feet and dash out of the tent, making a beeline for the French family. Without caring what they think of me, I unzip the entrance and run inside, shaking the girl awake. There’s a torrent of angry French as her father lunges to stop me. While he shoves me violently back outside, the child blinks and stares. ‘Merci,’ I hear her say. ‘Merci.’
Rather than wait for her to give her parents an explanation that will make sense to no one, I run back to my own tent. The others have already woken up. My mother peers sleepily at me from underneath her curlers and both Rawlins and Adam are on their feet, wide awake and poised for action.
‘We have to leave,’ I tell them. Dante’s not here and he doesn’t know where I am but that encounter still felt too close for comfort.
The French father continues to shout. Rawlins’ eyes dart across to him. ‘Good idea,’ she says. ‘Ending up in a German jail cell for attacking a family in the middle of the night is not going help us stay incognito.’ There’s an angry question behind her words. Several angry questions.
‘I’ll explain when we’re on the road,’ I say. ‘Let’s go. Now.’
Chapter Two
The best way to escape from your problem is to solve it.
Robert Anthony
‘He said they’re planning something?’ Rawlins asks as we pull away from the campsite. ‘What?’
I shake my head. ‘I don’t know. I don’t even know if he was telling the truth.’
In the back of the car, Adam pulls a clean T-shirt over his head and runs a hand through his hair. ‘There’s nothing they can do,’ he declares, his voice sounding a lot more confident than I feel. ‘They don’t know where you are. There’s no one left at home they can use to threaten you or blackmail you.’ He shrugs. ‘There’s nothing left. This Dante wanker was trying to scare you.’
He succeeded. I sigh. ‘He sounded certain.’
Adam snorts. ‘He probably sounded certain when he was trying to get into your knickers as well. When he was manipulating you into thinking he was a good guy.’
I throw him an irritated look in the mirror. He’s not helping.
My mother’s hands flutter in the air. ‘What about that girl? Is she in danger now?’
I bite my lip. ‘No. She was only useful as long as I was in her dream. He’ll leave her alone now.’
‘I hope you’re right,’ Adam grunts. ‘Because your boyfriend is clearly some kind of psychopath.’
I grip the steering wheel tighter. ‘He’s not my boyfriend.’ And then, pointedly, ‘I don’t have a boyfriend.’ For a moment I think he’s going to say something else. Fortunately, however, he falls silent and sinks back into the seat. In the back mirror, I catch Rawlins throwing him a thoughtful, sidelong glance.
‘That Frenchman was very angry,’ my mother comments.
‘I burst into his tent and began shaking his eight-year-old daughter,’ I reply drily, ‘so I’m not surprised.’
She tuts. ‘What I mean to say is, he may make some kind of formal complaint if he doesn’t believe his daughter’s explanations.’
When we left, the little girl had been trying to tell him she’d been having a bad dream and that I must have heard her and woken her up. She’s a quick thinker; she’ll do well when she’s finally old enough to get to the Dreamlands.
‘Yeah,’ I sigh.
‘So we should probably get far away from here and find another car.’
I sigh more loudly. ‘Yeah.’ I pause for a beat. ‘I’m sorry. I know I should be doing more but I don’t know what.’
‘This Lilith woman.’ The corners of Rawlins’ mouth turn down. ‘The succubus creature. She said making a deal with the Department would be bad.’ I nod. ‘What else is there?’
I blow my fringe out of my eyes. ‘Finding a cave and becoming hermits for the rest of our lives?’ I suggest. ‘I’ve lived like that before. It’s not that bad.’ I’m trying to make light of the situation by referencing the agoraphobia I used to suffer from but I don’t think it’s helping. No one laughs. No one even answers.
When the silence grows too uncomfortable, I reach across the dashboard and turn on the radio. I twiddle with knob, looking for decent reception. I flip past some god-awful German country music station, a heavy metal station that makes my mother cup her hands over her ears and an incomprehensible talk show. Eventually I find some light-hearted pop music. If Britney Spears can’t cheer the lot of us up, no one can.
Our headlights illuminate a road sign that indicates we’re coming to the Swiss border. I glance a
t Rawlins and raise my eyebrows. She shrugs. ‘This car has German plates. We can probably slide through without a document check because of the Schengen regulations.’ She’s referring to the agreement between several European countries that allows free passage over their borders. Sounds damn good to me. I nod and take the turn-off.
‘Switzerland?’ my mother asks.
‘Is that okay?’
‘I’ve always wanted a cuckoo clock. I’m sure the Chairman would enjoy one too.’
Adam stretches out. ‘If we were rich, we could open a Swiss bank account and live out our lives in obscurity.’
‘And chocolate,’ Rawlins adds.
I smirk. ‘Chocolate?’
‘I have a sweet tooth. Got a problem with that?’
My smile grows. ‘It’s just that you give the impression of being a big, tough policewoman.’
‘I am a big, tough policewoman. I also like chocolate.’
‘And,’ my mother adds, ‘I like cuckoo clocks.’
Adam snorts. ‘Well, I’d still prefer a Swiss bank account.’
‘It’s a neutral country,’ I say. ‘Maybe the Department don’t operate here.’
‘If they do, we could always yodel them to death. Or stab them with our Swiss army knives.’
‘Does anyone know anything useful about Switzerland beyond the stereotypes?’ I ask.
There’s a moment of silence. ‘They make very good lovers,’ my mother finally offers.
I wince. Too much information. Way too much information. ‘About that clock…’ I say.
***
We stop briefly at customs but, as Rawlins had said, we manage to sneak through without our passports being checked. It’s probably illegal as we’re not Schengen citizens but that’s the least of our worries right now. As dawn breaks and the radio breaks from its burble of cheery pop to the news headlines, the sun starts to glimmer over the horizon. After spending years trapped inside in my own house, the sight of the sun rising over snow-topped mountains can make an awful lot of what seems wrong with the world appear right. Unfortunately that sensation barely lasts a mile beyond the border.
Rawlins lets out a tiny yelp and clamps her hand over her mouth.
