by Shea Berkley
A ribbon of doubt hovered, but she had little choice. Turning, she sat, glad to have her hand back, and smoothed her gown. It felt like running her hands over water.
He sat, though his body didn’t relax. “I sense your conflict. You have the abilities you’ve always dreamed of, but they are only temporary.”
He wasn’t making sense. “How so?”
“Did Dylan not tell you?” A sadness peaked his eyebrows. “Both you and he cannot possess the same magic. It’s never been done.”
Her father had shared his magic with her for years to keep others from finding out she had none…though it was never permanent. Her chin inched up. “Just because it has never been done does not mean it is impossible.”
“I fear you give too much weight to chance. Let me speak frankly. Dylan will take your powers from you. He must. They are his.”
“I thought they were yours? That Navar had somehow stolen them from you.”
His face darkened. “Once given, no power can be taken back…not without certain measures.”
She didn’t know what measures he was talking about. He wasn’t making any sense. “Are you saying you gave a portion of your powers to Navar? Why would you do that?”
“I am not so evil as many would believe. I did it for the good of Teag. And for my generosity, I was betrayed just like your father and everyone else. By the time Navar’s true motives were known, it was too late.”
“I knew the kind of man he was,” she said, still hurt no one believed her, “and Dylan is nothing like him. If Dylan had wanted my powers, he has had plenty of opportunities to take them.”
“His experience is lacking, but he is beginning to understand.” He presented a plate of fruit all gleaming irresistibly. “Hungry? None of it is real, but it will satisfy your cravings for a moment.”
Though he was trying not to show it, Baun’s clipped words revealed his anger. If he had willingly given his powers to Navar, then that was his mistake, not hers. And as for Dylan taking her powers, he wouldn’t.
Kera straightened and pretended to watch the dancers. “I don’t believe you.”
Baun picked up a perfectly shaped and unblemished reddish-green pear and bit into it, his gaze assessing her. “I’m not surprised. The picture painted of me isn’t flattering, but you know I cannot lie. Tell me this. Whenever you and Dylan are together, have you noticed certain anomalies?”
She lied and shook her head, not wanting to believe anything he said.
“His emotions are volatile. His magic is straining to collect yours. It needs yours to be complete. He will never be able to control his powers unless he possesses them all. Think of it as a balance. Without your portion, he is only half of what he should be. Though I wish it were different, mark my words. He will take your powers whether you wish it or not.”
“He would never do that.” She glared into his pale blue eyes. “You don’t know him.”
“I don’t have to know him. I know what he’s going through. The small amount of power I still possess yearns for what is inside him. What is inside you.” He touched her shoulder and she could feel her powers straining toward him.
She jerked away and stood. “I want to leave.”
He slowly placed the remainder of his pear on the table, and said without looking at her, “You can try, but it will do you no good.”
“You cannot keep me here,” she said and prayed she was right.
“I would have once said there are worse fates than being locked in a dream.” A bitter laugh escaped, and he reluctantly looked at her. “I would be wrong. You have taken refuge within a Dreamweaver’s den.”
Kera gasped. Dreamweavers were creatures relegated to horror stories. They fed off their victims’ dreams until their bodies withered away.
“The Unknown has more than its fair share of monsters. Did you not think it odd such a cozy den didn’t have an owner?”
She had thought luck had finally found her. Kera remembered hearing a sweet melody just before she fell asleep. She wasn’t alone in the den.
One moment she could move, the next her legs were bound from the knees down. A rush of bile soured her stomach. Her lips trembled as she sank to her knees. “What is happening?”
Baun picked her up and placed her back in her chair. Squatting in front of her, he cupped her hands in his and squeezed her fingers, his face lined with worry. “Do not think of your bonds.”
She struggled to forget, but how could she when she knew a monster held her captive?
“Trust me, Kera.” He stood, and suddenly his formal wear vanished, replaced by rags and heavy chains that wrapped his body. Just as quickly, his appearance changed and he was back in his perfectly tailored clothes. “I know from whence I speak. Keep your head clear. This is your dream. Anything is possible. Let the fantasy have free reign.”
It took time, but as soon as she committed to the fantasy, she was able to move her legs again. It didn’t erase the fear. Her body flashed hot and cold. She pressed her palms together in an effort to stop her hands from shaking. “What will happen to me?”
“I don’t exactly know.” Pity shone from his eyes. He may not know the details, but he knew. He just didn’t want to say. He held out his hand to her. “Stay for now. Enjoy this moment. All too soon we may find ourselves chained in misery once again.”
A shaft of light appeared above the dancers, illuminating the glitter that covered their wings. As charming and fantastical as the dream appeared, so much of it seemed odd. If it were her dream, why would she create a lavish ball invaded by life-sized pux? And why did it seem as if Baun had as much control as she did over her dream?
Only one answer came to mind. They were sharing a dream. “You said this was my dream, but it’s yours, too.”
“Yes.” He didn’t hesitate. “I did not want to alarm you. I only wish to help, Kera.”
“Can you?”
“If I can think of a way, I will.”
She dropped her gaze to his outstretched hand. He was saying everything she wanted to hear. Did she really trust him?
She had to. Firsts couldn’t lie, and he was her only choice.
She placed her hand in his and stood, dazed by what she knew and afraid of what she didn’t. The music grew louder as they joined the dancers.
“Never give up hope,” Baun said as he twirled her to the music. “After all these years, I still hope to be free, have worked tirelessly for that day.”
If he couldn’t break free of his bonds, how could he possibly help her escape? Unlike him, she didn’t have the luxury of years to work toward her freedom. She had only days. She must think fast and find a solution before it was too late. Not just for her, but for Dylan.
Thinking about him caused tears to well up in her eyes, and she stopped dancing.
“What is wrong?” Baun honestly looked concerned.
She blotted at her eyes with the edge of her sleeve. “I was thinking of Dylan and how much I love him.”
Why she admitted that to him, she didn’t know, but the profession calmed her.
Baun’s fingers tightened against hers. “How tragic,” he said without a hint of spite. “It has been my experience that love is a wicked master whose touch is not gentle, nor is its appetite ever satisfied.”
She saw the pain he could not hide, and rising on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. “I am sorry for you.”
That she now pitied him left him speechless.
Without warning, the dream shifted. The walls crumbled. The ground cracked. Couple after couple fell into the chasms. Baun pulled her away from the edge that suddenly appeared near her feet. Everywhere she looked, the edges to the dream were disintegrating. “What is happening?”
A single-voiced lullaby filled the air, and Baun turned to her. His rags had reappeared along with the chains. “Our time is done.”
Without warning, he vanished. Kera became aware of the hard ground, her aching back, and the musty scent of dirt. She managed to crack open her eyes, and
though her vision was blurry from sleep, she saw a boy, humming a tune. She blinked, clearing her vision for a split second. That was all she needed. The boy moved his six arms in a hypnotic way that expertly wove sticky, silken threads around her legs, binding her in a half-completed cocoon.
Her heart beat faster, rushing the blood through her veins. She struggled to move, to tear out of her bonds, but it was already impossible. The boy smiled and sang his lullaby sweeter. Soon Kera stopped moving, her eyes fluttered closed, and she tumbled back into the dark portal where dreams waited to be caught.
She didn’t reach out for one. Unlike Baun, she didn’t want to hide in a fantasy, because without Dylan, no fantasy, no matter how lavish, was worth dreaming.
Against a Dark Sky
The sun peeks around the trees, barely lighting the area in front of the caves. I survey the area with a critical eye. So this is where Kera’s friends, those tainted by human blood, live in relative safety thanks to the spell that keeps the firsts from entering the area. I’d say it’s one step above camping…barely.
The kid tells us to wait. Bodog and I stand, cold and dead tired, waiting and waiting for someone to acknowledge we’re here. A few ticks past a quarter of an hour goes by before we hear footsteps echoing in the cave and a none-too-pleased female voice.
“No more playing about, Halim. If you don’t stop sneaking out, I will tie you to your bed.”
“Galt already tried that. Didn’t work. I got strong teeth,” he says, teeth bared as he reemerges from the cave, a girl in tow.
The girl stops. Her full blue skirt swirls around her legs for a split second, making the embroidery along the hem dance. The white blouse highlights the paleness of her skin and her freckles. With her red curls and tiny stature, she resembles a doll…a very serious, angry doll.
“I remember you.” She pushes back an unruly curl and glares.
Once again, I’m the unpopular one. Totally sucks. “You’re Lani’s sister.”
“Yes. Signe. And you’re Dylan.” She doesn’t move closer, only stares like she wishes I’d disappear. “Why is it every bad thing that has happened in Teag lately is connected to you?”
I can’t say I particularly like this girl.
I shrug. “I’m lucky that way.” My answer doesn’t please her. Watching her is like watching a thermometer rise. A red flush starts along her collarbone and slowly rises up her neck and into her face.
An elbow from Halim breaks her stare and she clears her throat. “Halim tells me you are searching for Kera?”
“She’s been taken. Halim thinks someone here might know where.”
“Does he?” Signe twirls a ring on her finger, and I can almost see her brain ticking through ideas. Is she actually weighing whether or not to tell me what she knows?
The sound of footsteps reaches us, and I see a guy move from the caves and stand alongside her. He looks familiar, though I’m positive I’ve never met him before. Signe whispers something to him I can’t hear.
“It’s not up to you,” I hear him say. A flash of familiarity happens again when he turns back to me and nods. “So you’re Dylan? Your grandpa said you were borrowing trouble, but I never thought it was connected to this place.”
I give him a hard stare and then the dots finally connect. The dark coloring. The same jawline. “You’re Wyatt’s brother, the one who’s been missing. Reece, right?”
“Yeah, that’s me.” The deep lines on his face don’t give him a user-friendly feel. There’s an edge of sadness about him that makes me not want to get too close.
“Everyone’s been looking for you. Your brother’s here, you know. In the village. It was attacked yesterday, and he’s helping out the firsts.”
“He would.” Reece doesn’t give an explanation about why or how he got here. His intense hazel eyes roam between Bodog and me, and eventually lock on to Bodog, who’s yawning and scratching parts that should only be scratched in private.
“This is Bodog.” I pause, wondering how I’m going to explain him. In the end I say, “He’s a friend.”
“He looks…friendly enough.”
Bodog steps toward Signe. His red-rimmed, googly eyes drop to the ring and then back up to her face. “You can find her, can’t you?”
“She can,” Reece says and pulls her forward.
She’s fighting him; I can see it in the ridged set of her jaw and the glint of steel in her eyes. Her gaze lands on me for a split second. Whatever she’s mad about, she blames me. She’s made that perfectly clear. With a quick yank, she pulls away from Reece. “I’m just supposed to trust him?”
“Yes.” The word rips from my throat. “Kera’s been gone too long. I know she’s alive, but I don’t know for how much longer. If you care about her at all, you’ll help me.”
Her cheeks pale, and her hands grip the cloth at the side of her gown into little coiled balls. “Never again say I care naught for her. She is the only family I have left.”
“Then show me. Find her.”
Signe stands rooted to the spot, glaring at me for so long, I begin to question whether or not she’s heard anything I’ve said. Reece finally whispers something in her ear and it’s like she’s snapped from some spell. She hikes up her skirts and drops to the ground, her knees digging into the soft earth, yet her back remains ramrod stiff. Gathering a handful of dirt, she glances up at us, and the first sign of hesitance peeks out. “I am not a first. I’ve never done this before. I have no control over what may happen.”
Halim moves close and puts his hand on her shoulder. “It’ll work. I know it will.”
She takes a deep breath and holds her hand out so that the dark-blue stone set within her ring faces up. As she mutters, the stone glows, casting a circle of blue light in a deep arc. She tosses first one handful and then another handful of dirt into the air. The dirt swirls within the blue glow and collects into a three-dimensional map where it hovers in midair, its detail amazingly accurate. A blue line cuts through the image, like a road that runs from us to Kera.
“It stops here, only a league west from us.” Signe follows the line’s path with her finger. “I don’t understand. Nothing is there but farmland and an old bridge people say is cursed. How can she be stuck there?”
I move closer and trace along the blue line as well. “Something has to be there that we can’t see. Right, Bodog?”
Bodog grunts and taps the bulbous end of his stick to his temple. “Magic fools the eyes.”
“Magic doesn’t fool me.” Halim’s dirt-smeared face scrunches with suspicion.
I cover Signe’s ring. The map disintegrates as the dirt falls to the ground. “If she’s there, I’ll tear through any magic to get to her.”
Signe stands; a determined gleam enters her eyes. “I’m going with you.”
“Whoever has her won’t let her go without a fight,” I warn.
And then Signe does the oddest thing. She recites a poem:
True Evil abounds
In spirit and thought
While good surrounds
Where death is wrought.
To the Unknown
Which none can see
Where flesh and bone
Take flight from thee.
It’s been my experience that most poetry avoids clarity, and I’m not sure why. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I haven’t recited that in years. It’s an old nursery rhyme. It fits, though, don’t you think?” Her lips quiver, and she faces Bodog. “She’s in the Unknown, isn’t she?”
Bodog’s ears flop against his head as he nods.
“If that’s true,” she says softly, “we are in serious trouble.”
I don’t like the sound of that. “We need to leave. Like now.”
Halim’s cheeks brighten with excitement. “I agree. Let’s go get her.”
Reece turns the boy around and shoves him toward the caves. “You’re not going.”
The boy twirls around, a frown shadowing his features. “Yes, I
am.”
“No,” Reece repeats. “You’re not. And just so we’re clear, your face will meet the ground, hard, if I even see you come out of that cave before I leave.”
Halim glares at Reece, then turns pleading eyes on the rest of us. Not seeing any help, he wipes his dirty nose along his sleeve and storms into the caves.
“We need a few things.” Signe doesn’t wait, and follows Halim.
“She can’t help him,” I say. “That kid is pure trouble.”
Reece watches them go inside. “You have no idea.”
I’m running close to empty. Like a junkie jonesing for his next high, I dig for a power boost and let it wash over me, feel it sink into my very center and warm my bones. I sigh and roll the tension out of my shoulders.
Reece catches my eye and shakes his head at me. “I’m thinking that’s not healthy, dude.”
There’s no turning back once it’s done. Frankly, I’m in over my head. If not for the energy boosts, I’d be dead already. “I’m thinking you’re right. But I don’t have a choice. I haven’t had time to sleep.”
“How about eating?” Signe says, having come from the cave with four satchels, each filled with fresh fruit, bread, a few strips of jerky, and a canteen of water.
I take one, and watch Bodog peek inside his and promptly toss it away. I shrug at Signe’s questioning look and say, “He prefers food that’s still moving.”
I build an earth mount beneath each of them and within ten minutes, we’re beyond the barrier of the caves and moving fast. Bodog isn’t keen on the concept of dirt riding, which is weird, since he lives underground where he’s moving dirt all day. For some reason, he’s become attached to the bent stick he found and won’t leave it behind. He holds it in front of him like a balance pole while his toes grip the mound in a prehensile way that gives me the shivers. Reece easily takes to dirt surfing, which doesn’t surprise me. It’s Signe who needs a little help and time to adjust. She’s a girl through and through and refused to change into pants. Being dressed like she is, it’s a miracle she doesn’t fall off.
The sun is still climbing into the sky when we reach the place Signe’s line ends on the map. She’s right. It’s a stretch of fields and more fields. Bodog starts making noises. “There.” He points to an old bridge, its wooden railing sagging, boards warped and cracked.
