by Steven Fox
“I did. I did.”
The paladins spread out around the circle, each taking a point marked in red chalk. There were six points. The seventh lay at the front, only three feet from Sirin. He walked toward the red mark, as though he would complete the circle and finish the execution without any bravado. Jason moved to stand, but the Guardian’s hand was on his knee.
“I have not finished my story.”
“But…Len…”
“She’ll be fine” said the cap man. “I won’t let anything happen to her.”
Jason turned around, glancing over his shoulder at the man to his left. Had he spoken? If so, how had he heard Jason?
“Be calm, Jason” said the Guardian. “Sirin knows you are here. He is only trying to force your hand.”
Sirin jumped around the final red mark, then walked toward the center of the circle and stood next to Len, arms crossed behind his back. He offered the crowd a huge smile. Even from this distance, Jason thought the hook-nosed paladin looked like a rat. But he relaxed. The Guardian removed his hand from Jason’s knee.
“Now, Lukoje said he had a name for his invention: dreams. And they seemed most effective in one’s sleep. It was mostly nonsense magic, but it had positive qualities. Dreams could heal. Dreams could inspire. Dreams could help us understand ourselves. But he also said there was another side to the coin: nightmares. His second story was the original nightmare, and he asked me to keep it. In return, he would sew wonderful dreams into all my descendants and their descendants and even theirs.
“How could I resist such a tempting offer?”
Below, Sirin reached up a hand, wiggling his fingers. His smile looked a little too wide as he set his hand on the top of his victim’s head.
“The nightmare, though incomplete, was terrible, worse than any pain I’d suffered. As a consolation, Lukoje formed a pact with me: As long as I and my children suffered the nightmare, we would have the abilities of Lukoje. We would be able to create dreams from thoughts and words.
“Shemillah was the first child of three. Lukoje and I had intended for each of them to inherit a piece of the nightmare. But Shemillah was always headstrong and had a taste for drama.”
Sirin removed the hood, and a fountain of green hair spilled down the front of a beautiful woman. This stoked the crowd’s excitement.
The man to Jason’s left leaned forward, squinting. “That’s not Len. Where is she?”
“Patience,” said the Guardian. He continued his story: “While I slept, Shemillah stole the nightmare, thinking she alone could suffer it. But the nightmare corrupted her. Slowly. Painfully. By the time I realized what had happened, it was much too late. Shemillah had already learned the Dream Caller abilities, and was quickly becoming better and better at them. She started turning away people who wanted their desires granted. She said she would only consider the desires of those who pledged everlasting loyalty to her.”
Shemillah stared up at the crowd. Jason couldn’t tell from here if there was a small grin on her face or not. She lifted a wand from her robe and raised it to the sky. A cloud with all the rainbow’s colors appeared beneath her and carried her into the air.
“But that was just the beginning. When she started deeming people unworthy, she would either kill them or feed them to that second mouth. You have probably seen it. That mouth is not hers, but the nightmare’s mouth. And as I am sure you have figured out—”
Fire erupted from Shemillah’s wand and rained upon the crowd. Just as the fire was about to incinerate everybody, it burst into floating and spinning rose petals. The petals then turned into doves, each a different color of the rainbow. Awe sparkled in the eyes of those around Jason. Compared to what Shemillah could normally do, these were cheap parlor tricks.
“You’ll have to dive deep into the belly of the nightmare. There, I’m certain all your questions will be answered. Including the question that has been riding your mind since the beginning: How do you defeat such a powerful monster?”
The Guardian clapped his hands together again, and the roar of the crowd surged back to Jason’s ears. It drowned out the pounding of his own heart, which was good. Jason didn’t want to hear how nervous he was as Shemillah dropped through the cloud, wings sprouting from her back. She landed gracefully at the front of the platform, and bowed, arms wrapped about her torso. Like a dancer, she slowly unfolded and straightened up. Shemillah’s youthful looks struck Jason. Her resemblance to Tara and Gelen was uncanny.
The Guardian leaned back in his seat. “She will call you out. For though all good has left her, Shemillah still holds an affinity for you. As she did when you two loved each other.”
Shemillah raised her wand again, and pointed it toward the center of the chalk circle. A cloud of dust shot up, and when it cleared, a body materialized. It wore the same black hood as Shemillah had but was strapped to a heavy chair. No antics were to be had with this one. Except the ones planned by Shemillah.
The crowd quieted, but murmurs rippled throughout like a sloshing tide. Jason focused on the new, motionless body on the platform and hoped he wasn’t too late.
“Why isn’t she moving?” said the man to Jason’s left.
The man in the cap, like the Guardian, had green eyes and was wearing a small dream catcher around his neck. Jason turned forward again, reached into his pocket, and gripped the cell phone. Only one chance, he thought.
Shemillah gave another wave of her wand, and the new body’s hood flew off. Len’s eyes fluttered open, and she stirred. Cap Man and Jason leaned farther forward.
“She will not rid of you quickly,” said the Guardian in Jason’s ear. “She wants to play with you. That is Shemillah’s nature: Pleasure. Satisfaction. Use that to your advantage. She will expect you to have something up your sleeve.”
Once Len realized where she was, she struggled, her arms jerking against the restraints. But nothing short of magic would budge them. The crowd’s excitement burned and their murmurs grew louder. Their eyes honed in on the woman with green hair and the black robe. Shemillah raised her hand, and the crowd effectively fell silent. Jason sighed through his nose. Shemillah stepped aside and motioned a hand toward Len.
“This is Lenmana. Simply Lenmana. She has no last name, for her life was volunteered at a young age for an important task. She was to hunt the Dream Caller as the Dream Catcher’s apprentice. Basically, she became the Dream Catcher’s daughter.” She pivoted on her heel and walked back to Len and jerked her up by a handful of her hair. “But she made a terrible mistake! She and all of her ancestors. They made the greatest mistake of all!”
Shemillah looked down into Len’s face with a smirk. “For centuries, they have wrongly persecuted the Dream Caller. And now I’m here to correct that.” She released her grip, and Len’s head bobbed down. She kept her gaze on the ground as Shemillah moved to the front of the stage. “Before I make this vile creature pay for her ancestors’ transgressions, I shall call out another.
“Sadly, he is my lover.”
A gasp ran through the crowd. Jason’s mouth flattened into a hard line. His fingers closed about his knees, knuckles whitening. Cap Man shifted in his seat.
“He helps the Catcher because he thinks I use the Caller’s powers unwisely. And without the ability to perform magic, he was doomed to have his memory erased. Until today, he’s been running. Trying to escape his fate. But I know he’s out there, in the crowd. He thinks I haven’t noticed him. But I can always pick out my Lukoje’s face in a crowd.”
The fake, sorrowful love in her voice made Jason want to puke. She was trying to get under his skin. Jason couldn’t help but let her. She raised her wand and pointed it into the crowd, directly at him.
“Jason Ole Lukoje McKinney, my love. Turn yourself in to me. It shall be I who erases your memory. Because it is my responsibility as the long-persecuted Dream Caller to right the wrongs done to me. And you, dear, have committed many.”
Magi were turning in their seats. Many of them already kn
ew who he was; they’d seen him at Silver Moon. He was the son of the late Arthur McKinney.
The Guardian nodded at Jason. The dizziness in Jason’s stomach was great. The pressure in the back of his head hummed to itself, waiting. He rose from his seat, and the crowd only grew more excited. As he moved through the center aisle, he heard the whispers: “Poor boy.” “Filthy coward.” “Trying to do in his own love? How shameful. How heartless.”
The words didn’t faze him at first. But as he reached the front-most rows, the whispers didn’t stay quiet. Magi booed him. Hisses went up, followed by chants of “traitor” and “coward.” He was halfway between the stands and the wooden platform when Shemillah stepped forward, past the red mark, a triumphant smile on her lips. In his mind, he only saw the smile of her second mouth, with its terrible green flesh and all-too-perfect teeth.
“My love has shown himself!” said Shemillah. “He will learn, then. If only he’d learned earlier. Then this wouldn’t have to be such a painful lesson.”
Jason flicked his gaze to Sirin and his paladins. He also glanced behind him, just to make sure no one was behind him. His hand was halfway to his pocket when Shemillah’s voice froze him: “My Lukoje, I know you’re dedicated, but did you think it would be wise to sneak a cell phone up here? Oh yes, I can sense the magic you’ve stored in there. I suggest you lay it at your feet. Now.”
Each of the paladins, including Sirin, drew their swords. The blades glowed and hummed. Jason grunted; he’d known this wouldn’t be simple. But how could she have known? His eyes flicked to Sirin, who wore the largest shit-eating grin. Of course he could sniff out the magical energy of Darlene’s cell phone. What had Jason been thinking?
Now or never, he thought.
He reached for the phone and opened the screen. The spell book app booted. He looked up and saw Shemillah’s face only inches from his. She snatched the phone from his hand as Sirin ran down the steps to stand by his mistress. Shemillah held the phone to her face, scrunching her nose at it.
“This is what kids use these days? As a wand? That’s one thing I’ll change.”
She crushed the phone in her grip, plastic bits peppering the ground. Then she draped her arms over Jason’s neck and stared upon his face. Her lips curled up. Desire burned in her eyes.
“How I’ve longed for this,” she said. “You probably don’t remember, but I do. I remember everything.” She leaned down and kissed Jason.
The crowd fell silent. Even Sirin stared with slack-jaw. Jason only sat there, placid and motionless as the Dream Caller tongued the inside of his teeth. His leg muscles twitched, urging him to tear away. But he didn’t. Not yet. He was certain the Guardian must have a plan. Why else let Jason walk into Shemillah’s arms?
Shemillah pulled away and gave Jason a shake. “Hey, you alive? This is the last kiss you’re going to get. From this mouth, anyway.”
She lowered her head for another kiss, but stopped. From the crowd, Cap Man walked toward the stage, the Guardian trailing behind, stumbling along on a cane that Jason hadn’t seen until then.
“I’m sorry,” said Sirin, scampering up to Cap Man. “She’s not handing out kisses. Please return to your seat, sir. We’re about to get under way with—”
His mouth stopped working because Cap Man nearly shoved his entire fist down Sirin’s throat. The paladin leader fell flat on his back, blood dribbling from his nose and mouth. The other paladins left their posts, storming toward Cap Man. Shemillah unhanded Jason and turned toward Cap Man. Her eyes fell to the dream catcher hanging from Cap Man’s neck. Shemillah whipped around and screamed at the paladins to stop. Cap Man pulled up his phone, spell book app already open, and activated a spell.
A burst of blue light shot from the phone, hitting everyone within a twenty-foot radius. Jason fell to the ground, covering his head. He landed next to Sirin, who after the light cleared, trembled and convulsed.
It started as a wisp of light. Gathering at Sirin’s mouth, the light grew and grew until it became an orb. Jason had seen the King of Dreams carrying this orb in the mansion. The orb of light rocketed forward, smashing into Shemillah. The Dream Caller flew back, but stayed upright, her heels grinding into the stone floor. The light slowly seeped into her, crawling in through her eyes, ears, mouth, nose, and flesh. Her scream split the air; Jason clapped his hands over his ears.
The rest of the paladins seemed unaffected by the blue light, and they each jumped from the platform, holding their swords high. Jason looked up, and where Cap Man was, Darlene now stood, the cap and plaid jacket hanging off her body three sizes too small. Next to her, tall and cloaked in shadows, stood the Guardian. His green eyes burned fear into each of the paladins and halted their advance.
Shemillah straightened herself, and glared at the Guardian. “Father!” she shouted. “Welcome to my homecoming party! I see you brought plenty of tricks, but where’s my treat?” And she drew her wand, blue lighting zig-zagging from the tip.
The Guardian stepped in front of Darlene and raised one finger. The lightning bounced off him and struck the stands. Shrieks of panic rose from the crowd as they scrambled for the exit.
“Paladins!” shouted Shemillah. “Let no one escape! Use any means necessary!”
Jason rolled around the stamping feet of paladins. One paladin struck down an elderly woman who could barely walk. Another paladin sliced through a young couple, their blood spraying across several audience members. The shrieks grew louder as Jason rose to his feet, careful to avoid the unconscious Sirin. Two hands seized his shoulders, and Jason’s head jerked up. Darlene stared him in the eyes, a slight grin on her face.
“I need you to grab this,” said Darlene, motioning to her chest where the dream catcher was.
“Is this really the time to be telling me about your sexual frustration?”
“The dream catcher, dumbass! Grab the dream catcher!”
Cheeks red, Jason grasped the dream catcher firmly. It felt warm, then suddenly started glowing and shot twenty feet into the air before falling back down, landing only about seven feet behind Shemillah.
The Guardian tossed a black fireball at Shemillah, and she deflected it with her wand, sending it off behind her, just left of the platform. She parried with a jab of her wand, firing off a green bullet that grew until it was the size of a wrecking ball. The Guardian held up both hands, grabbed hold of the energy, and opened his mouth. As the bullet’s magic funneled down his throat, Shemillah shot another bolt of lightning at her father’s feet, sweeping him off-balance. The energy bullet exploded in the Guardian’s face. His body thudded against the ground. Shemillah pointed her wand for the kill.
Music flooded the Arena. It was unlike any music Jason had heard before: It was heavy, ancient. Every note articulated perfectly. Reverence lifted the music up and pushed it through the air, carrying it far and wide. The paladins and crowd members stopped and then fell, eyes shut. Snores emanated softly from hundreds of mouths. The only ones left awake were Darlene, Jason, Len, Shemillah, and the Dream Catcher.
Shemillah wheeled around, narrowing her eyes. The Catcher blasted through more notes, and Shemillah seized up, her arms spreading wide. Her skin turned green and she started to grow, but she struggled to keep her eyes open. The mouth on her stomach appeared, spitting and growling. Eventually her eyes gave out, and the Dream Caller nodded off, her skin still green, the giant mouth halfway open and slobbering. The Dream Catcher lowered her flute.
Everything was silent, save for the sound of snoring. Darlene ran onto the platform and freed Len. She pulled her into a hug, and Len’s face froze. Jason thought of a deer in headlights as he watched Len, unsure of what to do. Her eyes flicked to him; Jason motioned with his arms. After a few more seconds, Len returned the hug.
Jason felt a presence at his side, and turned to see the Guardian and the Dream Catcher. The three of them turned toward the unconscious Shemillah floating mid-air. Jason sighed.
“Guess it’s time,” he said.
&nbs
p; “Indeed,” said the Guardian. “But you have known for a while, I imagine.”
Jason nodded slightly. “Kinda. I had a feeling. Especially since Shades. And now, after seeing the orb of light vanish inside Shemillah, I know for sure.”
The Dream Catcher turned her gaze on him. “Does that mean you remember?”
Jason didn’t say, for a thought occurred to him. “If I go in…How powerful will Shemillah become?”
The Dream Catcher tightened her grip on the flute. The Guardian stared at Shemillah, his eyes drifting up and down her lime green body. He sighed.
“Even if I hold nothing back. Even if we had three more of me and three more of the Dream Catcher, Shemillah will have no problem exterminating us. It’ll only be a matter of how long we can last against her.”
“We’ll buy you as much time as we can,” said the Dream Catcher, holding up her flute. The instrument glowed blue, then turned into a sword. “But hurry. These bones are old; I don’t know how much longer they’ll carry me.”
Jason’s throat tightened, his face ablaze.
Darlene and Len were still hugging, swaying slightly back and forth. Jason thought they might be talking and he didn’t want to interrupt them. Shemillah was only about one and a half times bigger than him, but the mouth on her stomach was still large enough for him to fit into. He touched the giant mouth, and it twitched. It felt so clammy and breathless. Of course it doesn’t breathe, thought Jason. This mouth only eats.
He spread the lips wide, and his spine tingled. The hairs on his neck pricked up. He scrunched his nose as he inhaled the rotten stench wafting up from the back of the nightmare’s throat. He readied himself to dive headfirst.
