Dream Stalker: Talented: Book 1

by Hopkins, Amy

  "Why are you telling me this?"

  "So that you understand. So you know how very sorry I am, so you know I had no choice." Harrod edged around the left and I let him, keeping the balance to one side.

  "Bullshit. There's always a choice." That's it, slowly. Don't make him go back towards the door.

  "Emma, if I was here, would you kill me to save yourself?"

  "You're attacking me and holding my friend hostage. If I killed you, it would be self-defence. Anything else would be murder. There's no justification for that."

  "Oh child. I suppose I would have said the same when I was young. It's only when you stare death in the face that you realise how much you value life."

  Just a little more...

  "I've seen death, Opius. He came for someone I love. I know his face; I've stared into it. He left me behind, but it doesn't change anything."

  Harrod stood back and sighed. "I should let you know; I was going to let this one live. I'm not against taking him if I have to. With his power, I can simply come for you directly."

  Rage filled me and with it, something slid over my skin. As the feeling passed, everything shifted a little. We were still in a kitchen but it was now three times the size, and glow lamps suffused the space with light. A faske sat in the corner balled up as small as he could. The door I'd been about to run for was a solid wall - the actual doorway was several feet to one side. I shook my head, confused.

  "You won't let him live, you're too power hungry," I said, trying to stall him until I figured out where we really were.

  "Power? No dear. Just life. Life is enough for me now, but I won't settle for less. I tasted your gift, you know. It stopped the disease in its tracks. Only for a few days, but how glorious that was. I could feel it pull back, feel the strength in my limbs, the magic flow through me again. I won't give that up, not for anyone.”

  As he spoke I shifted my body, hiding my right hand from his view. I worked my wand free with as little movement as possible. With no idea if my plan had any chance of working, I traced the fastest spell I knew and threw it at him. A ball of light exploded in Harrod's face. It wasn't bright enough to blind him, but it took him by surprise. It also told me something, something very important. I wasn't dreaming any more.

  Harrod lunged and I bolted. Anticipating my move, he shoved at the table and it clipped my hip bone, making me fold over in pain. Throwing the chair at him, I hobbled to the door and pulled it closed just as he slammed against it. A quick spell to lock it and I waited, hoping. To my relief, he battered the door but couldn't get through. Opius could control Harrod's body, his voice, but not tap into his magic.

  Very well. A shiver ran through me and I froze as Opius' voice bounced through my head. I shall take him myself. The noises at the door stopped suddenly and a feeling of dread filled me. I ran for the door and traced a spell, throwing it back open in time for me to see Harrod raise the knife, its point directed at his torso. He turned his head to look at me with sad eyes.

  I threw myself at Harrod and we fell to the ground. The knife dropped and he twisted away to grab it. My foot kicked out, and the knife went skidding across the floor. Harrod threw his fist and it connected with my face. My head rang in pain. He rolled on top of me, pinning me down, then climbed over me towards the knife. I reached out, found the leg of the chair, and pulled it down on top of him. The distraction was enough to let me push him off me, kicking him in the face as I scrambled for the knife. Grabbing it, I hurled it towards the door. I pointed my wand and cast a desperate spell, sending it flying off into the distance. Harrod jumped to his feet and took off after it, and I sprinted after him.

  He skidded to a halt just past the doorway. When I saw what stopped him, I grinned in relief.

  Barg stood in the middle of the street, holding the knife. Harrod plunged forwards and I screamed, "Run!"

  Barg took a bewildered look at the Talent running for him and took off. The hobgoblin practically flew along the street, then bounded up a wall and across a rooftop. Harrod raced after him but within seconds, Barg had disappeared.

  While Harrod was distracted chasing after the knife, I slipped down a side street to catch my breath. I was back in the real world now - it had happened in the house when the room changed, I was sure of it. My gift thrummed inside of me. I remembered the feeing vaguely, from my childhood. It felt familiar and safe, but I wasn't sure how to use it yet. I didn't know how to snap Harrod out of the dream. I could stay and fight, but that could end up in both of us getting hurt. I had to take out Opius.

  The muted sounds of music and revelry floated through the air. If the gala ended before I found Opius, the streets would be flooded with high ranking Talents. Despite the complete lack of response to Opius's actions so far, attacking someone like Harrod would cause uproar. The gods only knew what he'd be willing to do to save himself. Thinking hard, I tried to reason out Opius's location. If I could hear the celebrations, we probably hadn't gone far. Stuck in a dream state, we could have been running in circles the whole time. That meant he'd probably be close by...

  I started in the direction Barg and Harrod had gone, moving as fast as I dared without being seen. The lack of life around me added an extra layer of unease. Would Barg head for the wall, or the centre of the Inner City? Stumped, I paused to get my bearings. I could see the wall behind me, lit along the upper edge with decorative globes of light. They hadn't headed for the wall then. Shaking my head and wishing I had something to go on, I began to hurry ahead when I heard a shout. It sounded like Harrod and it was coming from behind me.

  As I ran, I kept to the shadows, stepping lightly on the cobbles and doing my best to stay quiet.

  "Give me the knife!" That was definitely Harrod, and it wasn't far off. I veered left and took a sharp turn, then skidded to a halt as someone disappeared into a doorway just ahead. Torn, I looked in the direction of the yell I'd heard. I didn't know how far away they were, and I probably couldn't help them anyway. After a deep breath I crept up to the door and placed my hand on it. It swung open smoothly.

  Inside, the house was cloaked in silence, shadows stretching across the room. Perhaps he'd left through another exit? No. There was the slightest sound from above me, shifting weight on old floorboards. Wand out in front of me, I crept up the stairs, with a spell on my lips. I hesitated near the top.

  "Don't stop. Come out where I can see you."

  He spoke gently, and I remembered that I'd first known the man as Jacoby Priest, the quiet, kind Talent that visited my shop. That made me angry. I closed my eyes, concentrating on the direction of his voice. Tracing a spell of distraction, I slipped into the room. Opius laughed at me, not at all affected by my meagre attempt at magic. He sat on a chair by the window, a stone golem standing motionless by his side.

  "You tiny thing. So weak." His wands barely twitched. I fell to the ground, agony tearing through every limb in my body. My voice dissolved in my throat as I tried to scream, air ripping past my throat and creating nothing but silence. I heaved a breath in, squeezing and eyes shut and - pop. The pain was gone. Tiny gasps escaped from my chest. I turned my eyes towards Opius, holding the power I'd used. Power that terrified him. Power that he lusted for.

  The golem’s arm reached out and pulled Opius into a standing position. He flicked his wand at me again, but the spell slipped off me. Again. Again. Each attempt made his eyes grow bigger, his breath come faster. He couldn't touch me. His next spell was aimed a little to the side, but I wasn't smart enough to realise why. There was a scraping behind me and a small box hit my side. It hurt badly and I crumpled over in pain. Clearly, I hadn't quite thought this through. I ducked as a lamp was hurled at my head, then dove to the side as the floor cracked underneath me. This had to end, fast. Years of tussles with my sisters had taught me there was one thing I could always count on - Talents used magic, to the exclusion of all else. They relied on it so much it didn't even occur to them that others didn't. I dodged another piece of furniture, this time moving
so I was closer to him. Taking note of the distance, I dropped to the ground as a footstool flew over my head. Just as a curtain ripped off its rails and twisted towards me, I launched myself at him.

  We connected, Opius crashing into the wall behind him. He was old, and his body ravaged by disease. Something crunched under the weight of my forearm and I hoped it was his neck - no such luck. He struggled under my weight and his wand jabbed my side as he tried to wield it. I used mine, a small, simple spell of motion. He cast his spell at the same time. The two spells connected, ricocheted off each other. I flew back, crashing into the wall across the room with a thunderous sound. I looked up, dazed by my fall, to see the hole where the window had been.

  I crawled over, dust floating through air lit by a street globe. I looked out on to the cobblestones to find Opius lying on them, body broken and twisted. Moonlight lit the scene and sparkled on the pool of blood that slowly spread around him.

  Coughing, I made my way downstairs. I waited there, watching. Nothing. No rise and fall of the chest, no movement at all. I stepped into the street to check properly, but a scraping sound made me wait. The golem, now missing a leg and a big piece of its head, shuffled over to Opius and awkwardly picked him up. He started walking down the street with the Talent Lord, away from me. If Opius had died, the golem would have disappeared. How had he survived a fall like that? I started after them.

  I'd only gone a short way when a big, solid arm caught me up. I screamed, voice muffled in a rough, leathery chest and pounded my hands at it.

  "Lady! Lady, it is Gibble. Lady, Gibble iss here to help."

  I stopped at the familiar voice, then collapsed into his arms, letting him hold me as I cried.

  "Lady, we mussst go. People. People come."

  "Harrod..."

  "Gibble find." The Boggart sniffed the air, then scooped me up over his shoulder. He took off at a run. Despite his speed, I was barely jostled. Just two streets on, he stopped and placed me back on the ground, frowning. Then, he looked up.

  "What issss little man on roof for?" A face peered over the top of the building we looked up at.

  "Hello, Lady! Master Gibble! Barg is at your services!"

  "Where's Harrod?" I called up to him.

  "Ah. Lady, I ran! I did not know why, but I ran! This man chased me, and tried to follow. Barg is good climber! Man is not. He did climb though. Lady? Man must have used up all his, his... waking? He is having sleep. Man is very loud sleeper."

  Gibble hoisted me up to the rooftop. I just managed to grab on and pull myself up with Barg's help. He was small, but much stronger than he looked. Harrod was near the edge of the roof, unconscious and breathing loudly past an oddly twisted neck. Rushing to him, I lifted his head and his breath quietened.

  "What happened? Was he hurt?"

  "No, Lady! Man was chasing. Man is Talent, but man did not use. Barg thought maybe it was a game! Barg loves games! So I ran and did not let man catch the prize, but Barg thinks games are not fun after you win. Barg let man get close sometimes. Then, man just went to sleep. Children have sleep after games, yes? Maybe man decided it was a good idea."

  "How long ago Barg?" Dread formed in the pit of my stomach.

  "Oh Lady, not very long at all. Moon has barely moved. Barg was going to stay and watch, in case he wanted to play again."

  "Gibble?" I leaned over the side of the rooftop to call down to him. "We need to get Harrod down. Can you catch him?"

  Gibble nodded. After a quick conversation with Barg, I rolled Harrod's limp body to the edge of the rooftop. Saying a quick prayer to whatever the hell kind of Gods covered a situation like this, I dropped him off. Gibble caught him easily and I sighed with relief.

  Once I was down myself we made our way back to Harrod's. We arrived to bedlam - Barg had gone ahead to summon Deirdre and they had arrived before us. Bee was there, which I hadn't expected. Martin was pacing across the room, out of his mind with worry. When we came through the door, he rushed over, helping Gibble to lie Harrod down on the floor. Deirdre bent over to examine him and I gave the short version of what happened - that Opius had been controlling Harrod when I knocked him out. She waved her wand over him, concentrating, then sat back and shook her head.

  "This kind of magic hasn't been around for a very long time. I could try to break him free, but I don't know what that would do."

  Martin cursed and thumped the wall beside him. He didn't look at me, but I knew what he was thinking.

  "It's my fault." I said, voice shaking with fatigue and emotion.

  "You did what you could." Martin refused to look at me. Bee placed a soothing hand on his shoulder but he shook it off.

  "I need to get out of this dress. Bee?"

  I turned and walked out. When we got upstairs, I started ripping off the dress as fast as I could. Bee just watched, disapproving.

  "I like him," she said.

  "He's gorgeous, you're Fae. Of course you like him."

  "I can't tell a lie, you know that."

  "I'm sure you can twist your words with the best of them."

  "I don't like to deceive those I care for." Red lips were pursed disapprovingly.

  "Then figure something out!" I immediately regretted the irritation in my voice. This wasn't her problem.

  "Oh child," Bee said. "This isn't your fault. You are the one who needs to fix it, but you cannot see the greater plan. Trust. I will make your excuses, while you steal away to slay the dragon."

  I sighed in relief. It was every bit my fault, I knew that, but Bee had my back. She'd distract the others while I slipped out. Now dressed in the clothes I'd arrived in, I gave Bee one last tremulous smile. Then, I climbed out the window.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Barg met me down the end of the street as we'd discussed on the rooftop. I felt bad for sneaking out, but I knew Gibble and Martin would both insist on coming and I couldn't risk any more of my friends. He handed me the knife, and I slipped it through my belt.

  "Did you find out where it is?" I asked in a low voice.

  "Yes, Lady!" He saluted me proudly.

  "Shh! Keep it down."

  "Yes, La- yes, Lady."

  "That's better. Off we go then." I turned to walk, then stopped and looked back as I realised he wasn't following.

  Barg stood there, toeing the ground and looking away.

  "Barg?"

  "Lady, Barg still owes Gibble much debt..."

  "He told me that was cleared." I frowned. He couldn't lie, neither could Gibble. I waited in silence for a moment, watching him fidget. Barg heaved a sigh.

  "Well, the first debt is cleared. When Gibble was away, Barg might have used his name in a tiny little wager. Barg might have lost. Barg is in Gibble's debt, again."

  "That doesn't matter. By not telling, you're paying him back, I promise." He looked unconvinced. "Fine. If you leave me, I'll go anyway and I'll probably get killed. Then you won't have the chance to tell him you saved me."

  Barg’s eyes widened in horror as he contemplated the outcome of my death, and having to tell Gibble he'd known what I was doing. His wide mouth opened, closed, then opened again. Finally, his shoulders sagged. He set off down the street, muttering about boggarts preferred methods of killing wayward hobgoblins.

  We passed back into the walled city, Barg using some kind of dust from the Other to sneak us past the guards. It seemed the gala had come to an end - the barren streets were now dotted with people walking or driving home, dressed in all their splendour. We stayed to the shadows and managed to get to our destination unseen.

  "Can you get me in?" I asked. The mansion was huge and opulent, befitting a man with the station Opius claimed to have held.

  "Ye-" Barg stopped, then started again in a whisper. "Yes, Lady! The dust of hiding things will... it will make you a hidden thing. It is goodly named, unlike the syrup of candlescent. That made Barg smell like the bottom end of a bearded sorn't. It-"

  "Barg. Please." I groaned internally, wondering if I'd mad
e the right choice in bringing him with me. He stopped talking and pulled out a small bag. Stroking it and mumbling something about the cost, he opened it and poured something very carefully into his hand. Without warning, he blew a handful of what felt like fine dirt at my face. It tickled my nose, making me sneeze. When it settled, I looked down. I wasn't quite invisible, but I had a transparent look and blended into shadows.

  "That will keep Lady from setting off magical traps. You can still be seen, Lady, so Lady be very, very careful or Lady be getting Barg into Very Big Trouble."

  Of course - if I got killed, Barg would be in trouble. I snorted, then set off to find a way in to the house. It didn't take long. The Talented wardings would keep out the majority of intruders so security tended to be lax inside the city itself. The only things that could sneak through would need Fae help. Because they so very rarely worked with humans, it was a safe bet that if they were involved, you had no chance of survival anyway.

  I climbed through an open window and crossed the kitchen. After making a brief circuit of the bottom floor to find it empty, I crept upstairs, knife gripped in one hand. Finally, I found the right room. Small noises came from the room - strained, raspy breathing and a low crooning. I slid around the corner and was shocked at what I found.

  Opius was tucked up in bed, blankets to his chin. His skin was an unhealthy shade of grey, and inside the room, his breathing sounded worse. Beside him sat the stone golem, stroking his head. It was easy to believe any breath would be his last. I had to do this - I hoped that his death would release Harrod from the dream, but I couldn't be sure. There was a small chance that he'd be sucked into the After along with Opius if his grip was strong enough. The knife was my security against that. Using it would absorb the last of the power Opius used to control dreams, pulling it away from him and forcing him to release his grip on Harrod. I would have to be careful; I needed Opius to lose his Talent before he took his last breath.