by Steven Fox
“Len told me.”
“Len? Oh god, is she all right?”
“She’s not dead. But the paladin’s will change that if we don’t hurry.” He looked up at Darlene and explained what had happened at the stronghold and in Visonia. He also told her about his visit with Queen Gelen. “I need you to find the Guardian. He helped defeat Shemillah before. He should be waiting for you at the same spot he talked to us.”
“How do you know that?”
Jason smirked. “Let’s just say, your grandfather has a very morbid sense of humor.”
Though this comment only received utter confusion from Darlene, she nodded, then snapped her finger. “Your dad also told me to give you my phone. I’m not too happy about that part, but he said the third spell was for you.”
“For me?”
Jason took the phone, and accessed Darlene’s spell book app. There, he pulled up the third spell. It had no name, and the only description available on it was…
He blinked, then reread the screen. He showed it to Darlene, who also read the description.
“Hm…You’d have to get into the paladins’ stronghold. That’s where they’re holding Len, right? That’s where they’re going to do the execution.”
It was. But something didn’t feel right to Jason. Everything seemed too easy. Not exactly that, but he couldn’t quite place it. Perhaps, planned out, as if everything had already been determined. After all, how had his father known about Darlene’s spells? And the Guardian, disguised as Sirin in the prison block…
“I’ll worry about sneaking in there,” he said. “You find the Guardian. First I’m going to talk to the Dream Catcher. She might know something about Shemillah’s weakness.”
“If she has any. She sounds like a badass. In the bad way.”
He heaved a sigh through his nose. “That’s why I’m trying to figure things out. We got one shot. And if it fails…”
Darlene smacked him upside the head. “Don’t say that. We’ll be fine. Okay?”
Jason rubbed his head, then chuckled. “Y’know, if we survive, I think you should ask Len out.”
A wildfire spread across Darlene’s cheeks, and she averted her doe-eyed gaze. She gulped, but smiled. “Y-yeah. I was planning on it.”
***
Jason took as many side-streets and alleys as possible just in case paladins were patrolling. South Hollow Ave was deserted, as usual. Here he’d easily hear the paladins’ boots clang on pavement. Even his own rubber-soled Nikes echoed in the air. Len’s house pulled into sight, and Jason slowed his jog. At the driveway, he stopped.
She was sitting in one of the lawn chairs, playing her flute. The music was soft, relaxing—a lullaby. The notes were flawless, precise yet emotional. Jason waited there, at the foot of the drive, for the Dream Catcher to finish her song. While she played, Jason clearly saw how, despite the wrinkles and white hair, Len’s mistress could be in her thirties. When the song finished, Jason barely realized it. He only moved when his gaze met with hers, and she nodded his approach. He jogged toward her.
“Jason McKinney, welcome,” she said, her voice raspy, but gentle. “Where is Len?”
Her first words to him, and those were it. It almost struck Jason like a kick to the balls. But he straightened up and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Miss Dream Catcher, but Len’s…been captured. She’s in jail. And it’s all my fault. She was only trying to help me, and now she’s going to die if I don’t do something.”
The Dream Catcher pursed her lips, but otherwise showed no emotion. “I understand. And forgive. My apprentice is doing what she thinks is right. And that’s what a Dream Catcher ought to do. Taking care of nightmares like Shemillah comes second to more important things. Like helping friends.”
Jason opened his mouth, then closed it again. Did the Dream Catcher just say Shemillah? As in, she knew? About the Dream Caller? She caught Jason’s stare and grinned.
“Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I don’t keep up-to-date. I’ve known about Shemillah for a while now. I helped your mother years ago, when I was barely a full-fledged apprentice. Even then I knew things wouldn’t pan out till much, much later. Everyone knew. Including your mother. Your father. And even the Guardian. Even if they didn’t want to keep me in the loop.”
Jason swallowed. It took a few tries for the right words to come out. “How’d you find out?”
The Dream Catcher grinned. “Did you think me a completely feeble old woman? I have my ways of finding out things. After all, you can tell a lot about people in their sleep.”
“So, what? This is all part of a plan? Is that what I’m hearing?”
She shrugged. “Perhaps. Still, even plans laid like an insurmountable fortress have cracks. Like the night your mother tried to kill you. The night she, in a blind craze, killed Len’s father.” Her eyes drifted up to Jason. “I’m sure you remember by now. Even I didn’t know. Not until a year ago, when Tanya talked to your father. Her spirit was able to cross through into Caindom, but despite her powers being intact, her body was weak. If Shemillah found her again, things would start all over. And now she has.”
Jason crossed his arms. “Again? What do you mean, again? I thought…Mom was Shemillah’s host, right?”
The Dream Catcher grunted. “Ah, that’s where memory fails. I see. Well, I can fill you—”
A fit of hacking cut her off. Jason stooped beside her, unsure what else to do, but she threw up a hand. He stood back. “Will you be all right?”
She cleared her throat. “I have enough strength left to put up one last fight. Maybe even two.”
She rose from her chair, and didn’t look like a frail old woman. She reminded Jason of Len. To look so feeble, but to be so strong. Jason wished he had that kind of strength, and he was physically healthy. The Dream Catcher turned to him.
“Sit now, and I will tell you a story.” Jason did sit, and the Dream Catcher pulled in a deep breath. “Long before you were born, before your mother was born, before I was born, there was the Guardian and Ole Lukoje, the King of Dreams. They were allies and friends against Shemillah, who had been deeply infected by the original nightmare. The ultimate nightmare.
“Lukoje and the Guardian had fought together for centuries, hunting Shemillah as she and the nightmare hopped from body to body, incarnation to incarnation, through her bloodline. Eventually, they cornered her, and Lukoje was able to capture Shemillah and the nightmare in a mighty sword he had constructed out of the purest dreams. This all happened on the eve of your mother’s birth, when Shemillah had tried to jump into your mother from her mother.”
“But something went wrong,” said Jason.
The Dream Catcher lifted a brow. And nodded. “It did. But what?”
“Lukoje was badly wounded.”
“Yes, because Shemillah broke free. This forced Lukoje to seal her away in his own head, where the nightmare had been born. This didn’t last long, though, and Shemillah escaped from Lukoje’s head, mortally wounding him in the process. She sought to claim your mother as a host, as she had originally intended, but time in Lukoje’s head had weakened her. And in his last moments, Lukoje managed to capture Shemillah and seal her away in a new prison, here, in Caindom. He had one of his guard swallow that prison and then sealed his guard within his dying soul. Then he vanished.”
The Catcher outstretched her hands, and motioned to her house, yard, everything: “This was the site of Shemillah’s prison. Here, a long time ago, used to sit the mansion constructed solely for containing the nightmare and Shemillah. It was built by the Guardian, at Lukoje’s request. It was a back-up plan to a back-up plan.”
Jason dropped his gaze. He wrenched his eyes shut. “My head hurts.”
“I imagine so. It’s probably been hurting since you were born.” Jason looked up. Her face was smooth, save for the wrinkles of age. He thought there should be anger on her face, rage of the fieriest kind. “Also,” she continued, “I sense you’ve lost the key I gave you.”
/> “The shadow with red eyes—Shades took it.” He shook his head. “I…I think it’s the nightmare of Tara.”
“The girl who committed suicide? By…”
“Yes. Yes, her. Forth.”
The Catcher raised a brow at this, but quickly let it fall. A small smile flittered across her lips. She looked up to the sky. The sun touched the horizon.
“Sometimes, when something is given to you, it isn’t meant for you alone. It’s a thing you must seek out constantly. For the sake of those you love. For yourself. Especially yourself.” She tilted his head up with the tips of her fingers. And she looked into his eyes. “And, certainly, you will find it. Just don’t lose sight of it. No matter what lies the darkness may spew.”
The Catcher headed inside, bidding Jason to follow. And he did.
***
His screams echoed through the basement. He was sure that, if there were anyone, they would be able to hear him from the street.
On the way down, the Dream Catcher had said to Jason, “I sensed something strange earlier. Something large and mammoth. Like a train.”
“Um. Yeah.”
“It’s okay, Jason. Your mother told me about it. She never blamed you. The evil inside Shemillah is great, and it infected your mother until that moment, when you smashed her against the train. I don’t know how, but it did.”
“But I thought Lukoje sealed Shemillah inside his soul?”
“That was after your mother was hit by the train.”
She led him across the basement, across the large chalk circle. She motioned for him to stop, and asked him to stand in the middle of the circle.
“Some time ago, you failed to deliver a precious jar of fairy bones to my door. They exploded in the sunlight, I believe.” Jason nodded. “Did you manage to smell them?”
He crossed his arms. He hadn’t told his father. Of course, he hadn’t told anyone. He didn’t think it was that big of a deal. Now that he looked back, it was a very big deal. Come to think of it, his father hadn’t said a peep about the bones after Jason delivered them. Though the Catcher had never reported that they’d exploded.
Jason nodded. “I did.”
The Catcher scratched her chin. “Good. You should be well on your way.”
“To what?”
“To more things. I can’t tell you. Not until you figure them out.” She sat back on her bed, looking up at Jason. “But you’ve a long way to go. Tell me, are your dreams still sealed?” Jason nodded. Every time he fell asleep, he still heard the rhythmic words the Guardian put in place nearly a year ago. The Dream Catcher frowned. “Well, I suppose the train technically isn’t your dream.”
Before he could ask what she meant, the Catcher stood and walked to the edge of the chalk circle. “We have to remove that seal. It won’t be easy. The Guardian created the magic, and he didn’t give away a lot of his secrets.” She smiled, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “But I’ve always been a quick learner.”
Now, Jason writhed on the floor, clutching his head. Smoke rolled off him and across the floor like a witch’s brew. The Dream Catcher stood over him, clutching her flute with both hands. Her face was white and sticky with sweat.
“I don’t get it,” she said. “The seal won’t come loose.”
She put her lips to her flute, and played a song of healing. Jason could feel the pain oozing out of his body, seeping into the ground. When it was all gone, Jason rose to his knees, shaking out his head. He wiped the sweat from his brow and looked up at the Catcher.
“Maybe you should rest. You don’t look so hot. I mean, you look ill.”
She chuckled, easing herself onto the bed. “I know what you mean. What I don’t know is what this means. This spell should’ve easily lifted the seal from your mind. But that was our sixth try.”
It confused Jason, too. Every time she tried the spell, he could feel the seal inside him. It latched onto his mind, digging into Jason’s being. And it wouldn’t budge. Every attempt, like the one before it, burned not only Jason’s mind but his body. And he wasn’t keen to try again.
“Why is it important? This whole time, you’ve had me re-collect my dreams. At first I thought it was just to stop them from wreaking havoc…but now…”
He looked up and saw the Catcher scrutinizing him. He was just as much a mystery to her as he was to himself. But there was something in her eyes that he clearly understood—desperation.
She stood, her knees wobbly. “We’ll try again. I apologize for the pain, but…”
Her head jerked up, her eyes flicking to behind Jason. He could hear it, too: the creaking of steps. Someone descending the stairs. Jason rose slowly, his muscles tensing. The Catcher stood by him as the creaking became louder. The final step groaned.
She glanced about the musty basement, an amused grin on her lips. Her white cloak swept the floor. She stopped just outside the circle of chalk between two pillars. Her green eyes fell upon Jason, then flickered to the Catcher. Shemillah tossed her mane of green hair.
“Good to see you, Jason. And you must be the current Dream Catcher. My adopted sister. Maybe niece is more accurate?”
The Catcher raised her flute only a split second before Shemillah raised her wand. But the Catcher’s fingers were nimbler, and quickly ran the flutes keys while she blew the notes. From the rock pillars beside Shemillah giant arms shot out and coiled around her, making her drop her wand. She looked down at her binds, then back up at the Catcher. Her skin started to turn green.
“Jason,” said the Catcher. “Run! Summon the train and flee!”
“I’m not leaving without you. Len needs a teacher.”
The Catcher laughed. It sounded harsh and exhausted. “Jason, don’t you see that Len hates being my apprentice? She wishes to never have been chosen. And that kind of resistance is what will make her age. At this rate, she’ll look like me when she’s twenty. She’ll die long before me.” The rock arms around Shemillah cracked. Jason clenched his fists. “If you don’t leave now, then it won’t matter whether or not Len has a teacher. We’ll all be dead!”
The middle of the rock broke away, and Shemillah’s second mouth smiled out. It spoke to Jason: “Stay and feed me.”
Jason turned, and shouted at the top of his lungs:
“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!”
The light cut through the musty darkness, and the whistle drowned out the cracking of rock under Shemillah’s transformation. And there, somehow fitting within the basement’s confines, stood the single train engine he’d escaped on.
“Come on,” said Jason to the Catcher. “You can still escape with me!”
The Catcher raised her flute and played another quick succession of notes, which lifted Jason into the air and slung him into the engine’s control room. His head smacked against the far wall. With another blast of notes, the lever clunked down, and the train sped off.
As Jason fell unconscious, he could hear a few more notes drifting into his ears. They belonged not to the Catcher’s flute, but her voice.
She said, “Tell Len I love her.”
***
“Wake.”
Jason didn’t recognize where he was. The train engine was nowhere in sight. He sat up, pressing a palm to his throbbing forehead. Stars danced about him as they blinked out one by one. The sky was blood-red; the sun would set soon. Jason still had no idea what to do about Len. As he stood, something scraped against the pavement beneath him—Darlene’s cell phone, which had fallen out of his pocket. He accessed Darlene’s spell book and re-read the third spell’s description. The only way to follow the spell’s directions was to sneak into the paladins’ stronghold. If he did that too soon, he could be captured again. No, he needed a plan. But what? Darlene was, hopefully, with the Guardian. Len was in jail. The Dream Catche
r was—
He smashed his fist into a nearby lamppost.
“Forth,” he said, before the liquid stone could snake into his body.
He was on a corner in downtown Sheriffsburg. Not a lot of people walked by this spot, and the road hardly counted as a side-road. Jason glanced over his shoulder, and a car drove past him. There was a large tree only feet from Jason. People driving toward the corner wouldn’t be able to see him, especially since the sun was setting. Jason let his hand fall to his side and lowered his head, staring at the cracks in the sidewalk. The cell phone was still in his hand, glaring up at him. Accusing him.
Another car drove past him, obeying the stop sign and halting at the corner. Jason glanced at the car and saw that it was an ambulance. Its bulbs weren’t lit, so it wasn’t on an emergency run. But it reminded Jason of that day, not even a week ago, when Trevor was hospitalized. Now Jason recognized his location: He was only a few blocks east of the hospital.
The ambulance slowly pulled away, rolling down the road. Jason followed.
***
Visitation ended at 9:00 P.M. Jason checked Darlene’s phone for the time: 6:56 P.M. He walked up to the front desk and asked for Trevor Ortiz’s room. The receptionist asked Jason’s relation to the Mr. Ortiz, and Jason pulled out his wallet and showed her the badge Sheriffsburg High gave to all its mentors. The woman with big, beehive-like hair could’ve said no—Jason wasn’t Trevor’s family. He was exactly as the badge said, a mentor.
“A mentor?” said the woman. “Kind of like a big brother-big sister, right? I had one in high school. Really helped me. I mean, I’m working through medical school now. Wouldn’t have happened without her. Room 274.”
And just like that, Jason found his body moving toward Trevor’s room. The hospital’s silence pressed upon Jason, making even his own heartbeat sound like rolling thunder. He didn’t know exactly why he came here. If Shemillah were to show up, not only would Jason have put Trevor at risk, but all the people in the hospital as well. Still, he loaded onto the elevator and went up to the second floor. The doors dinged as they opened. He checked a nearby sign for directions. 274 was just around the corner to his right. He found the door open.
