by Steven Fox
“You’ll pay,” said Jason.
Sirin clucked his tongue. “An eye for an eye leaves the world blind. And who here is blinded by their rage? Keep punching those steel bars. It does a lot of good.”
“I’ll fucking kill you.”
“How? By tomorrow, I’m sure Mistress Shemillah will have had her way with you.”
“I don’t give a shit if you erase my memory. I’ll remember you. I’ll remember you until I die.”
Sirin leaned in tauntingly close. Just close enough for Jason to feel the warmth of his breath, but thanks to the bars, still too far away for Jason to inflict any damage. Sirin tilted his head.
“Who said anything about erasing your memory? The Mistress has plans for you, Jason. Big plans. So rest that brain of yours. Don’t even think about escaping. As if anything short of a flying train will save you.”
Jason’s hands fell to his sides. He could only glare into Sirin’s face, into that hooked nose set below two green eyes.
“And after she’s done with you, your little girlfriend over here will be joining your father. If only your other friend were here. I’d love to storm her bedroom. Even if she hid under the bed, I’d take her by the hair to the alley out back and…Well, I’ll leave that to your imagination.”
Sirin turned on his heel and sauntered away, his laugh bouncing off the walls. Jason could only stare after him. The thud of Len’s fist against the metal bars rattled him into awareness again.
“That son of a bitch. I’d like to get my hands around his throat.”
“That doesn’t sound like the Len I know. Besides, you’re supposed to be a protector. A Dream Catcher, right?”
Len grunted, falling back on her bench. “Frankly, I’ve never liked being the Dream Catcher’s daughter. It kind of sucks. Not only do I look like I’m fifty, but I never get out. I never see other people. I’ll never have a girl…I mean, boyfriend.”
Jason shook his head. “Stop pretending. You obviously like Darlene.”
Len sighed. “So, you could tell?” Jason chuckled. And Len’s cheeks blazed with embarrassment. “Shut up,” she said.
“I’m not laughing at you. I think you look cute together.”
Len only nodded, then said, “I think you and I would have been…How does Darlene say it? Bros? I think we would’ve been bros for life. If I wasn’t going to die and you weren’t going to…Hey, what’re you doing?”
Jason stood and paced about his cell. He scratched his head, mumbling to himself. Len watched him, tapping her foot silently. Jason stopped mid-step, and whipped his head toward Len.
“The Queen of Dreams and my mother both said I had no chance at becoming the Dream Caller.”
“Wait, what?”
“My mom said there was no way I could become the Dream Caller. She never did say why. But if that’s true, then something doesn’t make sense.”
“What’s that?”
“I sealed my mother in Dreamrealm by summoning the train to run her over. If I’m not the Dream Caller, then how did I summon the train?”
Len rubbed her chin, tonguing her split lip. “I don’t know, Jason. Where are you going with this?”
“What if I can summon the train again?”
Len’s eyes lit up with realization. She shot up from her bench, her gaze locked on Jason. “If you can, summon it so it smashes through your wall. Maybe then you can escape!”
Still, the initial problem remained: How to go about summoning a magic train? Before, Jason had summoned it after watching his mother kill Len’s father. He remembered screaming. About that time was when the train appeared. Jason turned and stared at the wall, focusing on it. Maybe if he focused the same sorrow he felt that night, he could call the train again. But ten years was a long time, and Jason could hardly recall the emotion he felt that night. True, the feeling never truly left. It was there, and he felt the remnants of it, but the emotion itself had worn down into little more than a slight tug at his heart.
After five minutes, Jason sighed, dragged himself to his bench, and slumped over, forehead cupped in one hand. He chuckled.
“If only I could start over,” he said. “If only I could go back and fix everything. Maybe none of this would’ve happened.” Jason didn’t know where the words came from, but they were his words. Deep, cutting words that had been there all along.
“Start over?” Len slammed her hands against the bars, rattling them. “I don’t get a do-over, Jason. Neither do you. No one does. Just ‘cause you made mistakes doesn’t mean you’re bad. Okay? You can dream. Use those dreams as your power, no matter how farfetched. Would Tara want you to give up?”
Jason considered this. And while the liquid stone seeped into his hands and arms, Jason closed his eyes, immersing himself in the pain, the drowning. Each time the drowning started, he asked himself, Is this what it felt like to Tara? Is this how it felt as she sank lower and lower?
I failed her. I fail everyone.
“That’s not true.”
Had he said those words out loud? It seemed like he did, because when Jason opened his eyes, Len caressed him with her gentle, although confused, gaze. The gaze reminded him of another. Someone who, at this moment, clung to life by the cuticles.
Trevor Ortiz lay comatose in Sheriffsburg Medical Center because Jason had been ready to give up. Jason had been ready to let go of everything, all because he felt personally responsible for Tara’s death. He still felt that he was, but Tara had chosen to end her life, not Jason. He felt guilty, but he had to try and move on. Trevor was still alive, if only a little. Jason hadn’t failed everyone yet. And he wouldn’t.
He stood again, facing the windowed cell wall. He stared at it, focusing every ounce of his anger and sorrow, every drop of hope and joy, every bit of envy and lust—all of it into one thought. And the thought came out of Jason’s mouth:
“Train man,
train man,
ring your bells.
Let your whistle blow.
Train man,
train man,
I hear the wheels,
so let’s go, go, go.”
Silence. Nothing. Only the steady pound of his heart and the hushed breathing of Len behind him. A few moments passed, and still no sound. He slouched, his hopes dashed, and turned to Len. Then the jail shook, brick and dust showering their cells. Jason fell to one knee, throwing his arms over his head. A terrible screeching sound grated his eardrums. He looked at Len—at the O of her mouth and her wide eyes—and realized what was happening.
The train whistle screamed as brick and steel were ripped away.
A giant hole in the wall gaped at Jason. Sparks showered the cell room as the train scraped across the building’s outside. Jason stood, smiling, as did Len. The grin they shared was the widest, happiest either had even seen. The train stopped, and out of the door hopped the conductor, though he looked different, somehow. But Jason had no time to notice, because the conductor, unlike before, walked up to Jason and smiled.
“Well, well! You rang?” he said.
“Um…I did. But I don’t have any tickets.”
The conductor waved Jason off. “Ticket? Who said anything about a ticket? From now on, you’re a V.I.P.! You ride free, my friend!”
Hope welled up inside Jason. He pointed to Len. “And her?”
“As long as she’s your guest, her too!”
Jason turned to his cell door. Len clung to her bars. Tears streamed down both their faces. After this, Len and Jason would find Darlene. Together, they’d figure out how to deal with Shemillah and the paladins.
An explosion rent the air. The steel door at the end of the block skittered across the floor toward their cells as though it were a leaf.
“Who locked the door?” said one paladin.
“Sirin was the last one I saw leave!” said another.
“I haven’t been down here all day, you dolts!” said Sirin.
As they drew closer, they saw the train and the conductor. “Halt! S
top! Don’t try to escape!” They raised their glowing swords. Jason had the feeling they’d hold nothing back, no matter what their Mistress had planned for him. Jason looked back to Len and shook his cell door. But it didn’t budge. Not even an inch.
“Just go,” said Len. “I’ll be fine.”
Jason wasn’t going to leave her. He wouldn’t let another person down. Len smiled at him.
“Your father left a message. In case we met up and he was…you know.”
One of the paladins swung his sword, a firebolt zipping down the way, exploding against the far stone wall. Jason barely dodged the blast and Len was thrown down. She coughed, trying to beat the smoke away from her face.
“Len, stay there! I’ll get you!”
“No, listen! Your father said: Anyone who interferes will be dealt with swiftly and without mercy!”
Another firebolt crashed just at Jason’s feet. He flew back, sliding across the floor and into the side of the train. The conductor ducked down, inspecting Jason. Jason looked up at the man. Blinked. Wait…when did he get boobs?
“I suggest we go now,” said the conductor. “I’d rather not have fire damage on my train.”
He hoisted Jason up, helping him to the door. Len smiled at Jason and raised a fist. “Forth!” she said. “That’s your word of power, right? Well then, forth, Jason!”
And as the train door shut behind him and the train sped away from the paladins’ stronghold, Jason sobbed. He wouldn’t give up until all hope was lost. As long as Trevor, Len, and Darlene were alive, hope would thrive.
TWENTY
The conductor had assured Jason they’d get to the palace with plenty of time for Jason to return and save his friends. Jason sat in the engine car with the conductor, his head tucked between his knees. He needed to see the queen. She had been right when saying Jason couldn’t become the Dream Caller. And there seemed to be something wrong, the last time they spoke. He hoped it was possible she might know something about the Dream Caller. Any possible weaknesses, for one thing. How Jason summoned the train, for another.
He’d tried asking the conductor, but he only offered Jason a grimace. “It baffles me as much as you, kid. But anyone who has the ability is certainly welcome aboard.”
“You think the queen will know? About this…ability?”
“The Queen knows a lot. If only she’d pull herself together. She’s obsessed with protecting the kingdom. So obsessed, she doesn’t make time to help people.”
“Help people?”
“Well, children mostly. The King loved children. He’d visit their dreams and make all their nightmares go away. But since he’s gone missing, the queen hasn’t been able to help the kids. She tried for a while, but she just couldn’t keep it up. Not when she’s split up into four other bodies.”
Jason counted off the Queen’s guards on his fingers. There’s F, D, and of course, E. But that was only three. “Where’s the fourth guard?”
The conductor shrugged. “She disappeared. ‘Round the same time as the king, I think.”
Jason looked up at the conductor and squinted. He looked masculine. So why had Jason mistaken him for a woman in the jail cell?
“I can feel your eyes on the back of my head,” said the conductor, chuckling. “Is there something else on your mind?”
“Do you constantly change genders, or was I seeing things?”
He laughed, losing his grip on the train’s lever. The train slowed, but he snatched the handle back up, and the train resumed full-speed. He glanced over his shoulder at Jason, a sly grin on his face.
“Fancy me as a girl, did you? Well, hate to burst your bubble, but usually I’m a guy. Simple as that.”
“But you were a girl. Back in the jail.”
“Cuz weird things happen to dreams when they cross worlds. Unless they’re summoned by a Dream Caller. Even they have it rough, at first. I remember when the first Dream Caller came around. She was summoning wrong dreams left and right. What was her name? Shemillah, I think it was.”
“Wait, what?”
The conductor pulled on a cord, and the train whistle screamed. Jason covered his ears. The conductor spoke into a small black in a metal holster on the wall.
“Passengers, we’ll be arriving at Visonia in ten minutes. Please be ready to disembark in five. Thank you and welcome to Visonia!”
***
E waited for Jason at the bottom of the platform. Jason didn’t notice her until the dull edge of her sword was pressed against his nose. Despite her eyes being covered, Jason could tell by the flat line of her mouth that E was pissed. Royally.
“Good to see you again,” she said. “I’ve been waiting for you, Jason.”
“I’m honored. Now, please, put your sword down.”
“First, you’ll make me a promise.” But she lowered her sword anyway. “Never frighten the Queen again. She locked herself away in her room because of you.”
Jason couldn’t believe it. Why would anyone waste any amount of time worrying about what he did? Then again, hadn’t Darlene and Len worried? His father had been concerned enough to leave Jason a final message.
“I’m sorry. I promise not to do anything like that again. I didn’t mean to hurt her.”
E stood there, staring at him. At least, Jason thought she might be staring at him. She sheathed her sword, turned her back to him, and walked away; he followed. Visonia and the castle gates passed in a blur around him. His mind focused on Queen Gelen. A part of him felt extremely guilty for upsetting the Queen. He wanted to make it up to her any way he could. But it had to be fast.
The Queen’s chamber lay hidden in the deepest part of the castle. Much like the secret part of Silver Moon Grocery, you had to navigate it just the right way, or you’d somehow end up back at the castle’s gate. The final door opened up into a long, sparkling hallway. A multi-colored carpet lined the hall floor. Hung on the walls were paintings in shades that oscillated between white and black. As Jason blinked, each picture seemed to change size or switch places with another nearby. At the end of the hall stood a small door. It was nothing special, just a wooden door with a brass handle. Jason felt floored by the simplicity of it. It made him wonder what lay beyond. A magnificent, loft-style apartment? A royal chamber that looked like a luxury hotel room, complete with hot tub and widescreen television? As it turned out, none of these things.
E opened the door and led Jason into what looked like a simple wooden cabin. A small rug lay center of the room. Opposite of the door was a hearth with a burning fire. To the right was a bookshelf and opposite of that, a queen-size bed. Next to the fireplace stood a pair of chairs, their backs facing the door. Queen Gelen rose from one of these chairs and turned. She dropped the book she was holding. Her hair was a tangle and wild tufts. Her face was red and puffy.
“You’ve come back,” she said.
She rushed forward, wrapping her arms tightly about Jason’s neck. The touch was firm but soft against him. It reminded him of Tara, of the first day he saw her without her shirt on, without her bra on. Gelen buried her face in the crook of his neck. Slowly, he reached up and around, patting her on the back. He had no idea what was happening: He felt warm and right. He felt like he belonged. But that didn’t change the fact Len was in danger. A demonic Dream Caller was on the loose.
He pulled away from the Queen, who stared up at him. Before he could say anything, she pulled him toward her. When their lips met, electricity surged through Jason’s face, skating along his skull and then cascading down his back, all the way into his tailbone.
He kissed her back. His hands ran along her sides, down to her hips, then swept up her back, all the way to her shoulder blades. Despite their clothes, it felt as though nothing was between them. Just flesh on flesh. Soul on soul. When they pulled apart, Jason opened his eyes, and looked into Gelen’s. She smiled. Her eyes sparkled. For the first time since Jason had met her, the Queen of Dreams looked happy.
“You’re home, my love.”
&
nbsp; “Yes,” said Jason. Then he shook his head. “Wait…wait, we just met.”
The luster of Gelen’s smile and the sparkle in her eyes dimmed. Everything about her seemed to slouch, to lose that naturally refined poise of a Queen. True and utter devastation. Disappointment. “But, dear. You’ve returned,” she said. “I know you have probably forgotten some things, but you are saying my kiss did nothing for you?”
Jason rubbed his head. “It…did do something. I’m not sure what, though. And why are you calling me ‘dear?’ You make it sound like we’ve been…”
Once the realization dawned on him, Jason disentangled himself from Gelen’s embrace, and stepped back. “No, no. You can’t think…Impossible. Fucking impossible.”
E stepped beside him, hand on her sword. “I suggest you’d better sit down, Jason McKinney. You’ve got quite the story to listen to.”
But Jason didn’t want to sit. There was only so much time before Len was executed. “Listen, I need your help.” Jason ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. But I’m not your missing king. I’m anything but a king.”
E gripped Jason around his forearm, but the Queen held up a hand. E let go, and Gelen’s hand slowly drifted down to her side. Jason clapped gazes with her, and they stood there for what seemed like half an hour, staring. Up-close, Jason couldn’t deny the uncanny similarity between Gelen and Tara. Something in that observation made his head hurt.
“I’m not your king,” he said under his breath.
“But the conductor has told me that you summoned the train. Only the King can do that.”
“And I’m saying it’s impossible.”
Gelen stomped one foot. “You are the King of Dreams! What do I have to do to prove it?”
“I’ve seen the King of Dreams. And he looks nothing like me.”
Gelen narrowed her eyes. “Where?”
Jason shifted in his spot. “Not in person. I’m not even sure it was him. But, I think I saw a vision of him. He was leaving from Shemillah’s prison.”
“The mansion inside Talshe.”
“Wait, you know?”
She nodded, looking off toward the fireplace. “The King formed a pact with Shemillah’s father a long, long time ago. Shemillah was the first—and last—to receive the Caller ability through formal training. Then she turned rogue. The King decided he couldn’t have someone as dangerous as her polluting both Dreamrealm and Caindom with terrible nightmares. He went after her, taking his guards and one of my own. He defeated her. At least, I had thought so. But between Shemillah’s defeat and her imprisonment, my king disappeared. Along with my fourth guard, S.”
