Dream Stalker: Talented: Book 1

by Hopkins, Amy

  Fear got the better of me. I ran. Darting for the portcullis, I left the safety of the wall in the hope I could beat the monster to the opening. A claw slapped me to the ground, tumbling me over onto my back. The dragon stood over me and let out a screech. As he raised his head and exposed his neck, I brought the sword up. Needle sharp pain shot through my earlobe and I flinched, jerking the sword to the side as the beast swooped his head down and I missed my chance. The rat had bitten me again.

  The snarling dragon looked down at me. When our eyes met, an icy shock went through me. It wasn't the soul-shattering feeling of looking into the heart of a dragon. It was one of recognition. The dragon’s eyes were wrong. Instead of swirling, opalescent pools, they were... human. Human eyes in a dragon.

  When I realised what had nearly happened, I dropped the sword. Tears filled my eyes and I sucked in ragged gasps of air. The dragon twitched its head, confused. I could see him fighting, see him trying to work out what was wrong. He let out another screech, spreading out huge, leathery wings and gnashed his teeth at me again. I needed to make him see.

  Mind racing, I dodged another attack. As he lifted his enormous head, I spied the metal collar circling his neck. The next time his head swung down, I grabbed the chain hanging from it and was wrenched into the air as he yanked away. The dragon swung his head, trying to throw me off as I clung to him. I used the momentum to climb the chain and grabbed on to the plates of his back. Gripping the collar to keep me steady, I threw one leg over his neck. Guided only by instinct, I placed a hand on his neck and I pushed. I pushed my power into him, forcing it through. I funnelled it into the massive beast, using every drop of strength I had.

  The beast stilled.

  He lay on the ground, spent. I climbed off his neck, sliding down and landing on my good foot. My legs shook from exhaustion as I hobbled around to see his face. He looked at me, eyes filled with fear and confusion.

  "Harrod?"

  The dragon lifted his head just a little. He gave a single, small nod.

  "Oh, Harrod. What has he done to you? Are you... I don't even know what to ask. I'll get you out of here, I promise. You'll be ok."

  I placed a hand against the giant face and knew his anguish. He was still trapped. I'd used everything I had and though I'd broken part of the spell, we were still here. Another tremor made me lose my balance and I put my hand out to steady myself on the dragon. Ratty appeared, sitting on Harrod's face. A giant eye rolled over to look at my tour guide.

  "Ok, Rat, how do I free him?"

  The rat launched himself off the dragon and onto the floor. He ran to the sword.

  "What? I can't kill him, he's my friend! What if it goes wrong?"

  Shooting me a withering glare, he squeaked and ran back to the dragon - to Harrod. He climbed the chain, then sat on the collar. Looking more closely, I saw a kind of mechanism holding it closed. Oh, right. He didn't want me to kill the dragon, but free it. I picked up the sword and a moment later, had pried off the collar and chain. Rat sat atop Harrod's neck where I'd been a short time before. He squeaked and twittered, and Harrod gestured with his reptilian head.

  "You want me to climb back on?" I asked dubiously.

  He nodded at me and lowered his head back down so I could do so. I straddled his shoulders, holding the sword in case we needed it again. Though I didn't doubt Harrod could just eat with anything we came against in his current state, being a dream world, I didn't take anything for granted.

  Muscles bunched up beneath me and then exploded, launching us into the air. The cavern roof above us had disappeared, and as we flew higher, light returned. Natural light, like a warm summer day. Wind whipped at my eyes and my vision blurred. I blinked, and looked down to see what lay below. We flew over a castle, or the ruins of one. As we circled a tower, it gave way at the base, crumbling and falling to the ground in a puff of dust. I held up an arm to shield my face from the tiny specks of rubble that rose in a cloud around us.

  I looked to where Harrod was flying. In the centre of the crumbling castle rose a white column. The ivory tower. Opius would be in there. Though it was still whole, cracks ran up the walls and paint flaked off in big chunks. The damage around us must reflect the state of Opius's health. Going by what we could see from this height, he didn't have long. He had to let us go, I'd exhausted my gift on Harrod and I had no idea how to use it to get us out of here. I wasn't sure how I'd make him release us from his dream. Hope, pure, blind hope was all I had left.

  Harrod circled around the tower. There were no windows or doors that we could see. Before I'd figured out a way to get in, Harrod landed on the peaked roof. Then, he ripped it off. That was one way to do it, I guessed. I climbed off Harrod's back, balancing precariously on the edge of a wall. He used his tail to assist me down into the room. As I stepped in, the room righted itself, debris flying towards the ceiling to repair the damage. A muffled roar from outside and the sound of claws scrabbling at the roof.

  "I let you in because I need something from you. The beast stays outside."

  I turned to find Opius sitting in a chair facing me. My heart stopped, then restarted at twice its usual speed.

  "You're dying, Opius." I said. "There's nothing you can do to stop it."

  "I know."

  "Then what could you possibly want from me?"

  Opius stood and ran his eyes over me. As he did, I felt the worst of my injuries heal. Not completely, but enough. He walked to a window that materialised as he approached. It looked out over London. I watched him, unsure of how I felt. Part of me was angry, hated him, but after everything I'd seen of his past, I also felt sad. Not at his death, but at what had been taken from him in life. I felt sad for who Opius could have been, not the man he'd turned into - a bitter, selfish old man.

  "I can free you. I can let you go."

  "I can free myself." I hoped that was true.

  "But not him," he said, eyes looking towards the ceiling at where I assumed Harrod sat. He said the words as a statement of fact, with no hint of malice or regret.

  He believed it, but I didn't know if he understood my gift enough to know for sure. I knew I could affect another person with my gift, but I'd tried to force Harrod out of the dream and only partially succeeded. Was I not strong enough, or did I just not know how to use it properly? The room shook and a crack appeared in the glass of the window. Opius himself stumbled, his legs giving out from underneath him. By reflex, I put a hand out to steady him but he caught himself on a walking cane that appeared out of nowhere.

  Clearly embarrassed at his weakness, he turned his head away from me, back to the window. As a child he'd been taught all his life that weakness was failure and here he was, unable to even keep his feet in front of a half-blood. In that moment, I felt sympathy for him. Not much, and not even close to forgiveness, but sympathy. He waved a hand and the chair slid over to him. As he sat, the cane vanished.

  "I know I've done terrible things. I did them for the wrong reason. I was desperate. I wanted to live, at any cost, and to have back the legacy that should have been mine." The tower shifted again and this time, plaster started peeling from the walls. Years of wear and neglect transformed the room in the space of moments. Opius was losing his hold on the dream world.

  "You killed people, Opius. No matter what your background, how much you suffered, you did not have that right."

  "That is why I'm giving you a chance to get your friend out."

  "So, to make up for the people you murdered, you're leveraging the life of another? For your own gain?"

  "No." Opius sagged in his chair, face wrinkled with age. Flecks of dust and paint were drifting down from the ceiling and some had settled on his robes. "I can't release you. I don't have the strength left, but there might be one who does."

  Fear settled in the pit of my stomach. If Opius couldn't control his gift enough to pull it back and if I couldn't find a way out, Harrod could die. I could die.

  "Where is Jones?"

  "Jones?"<
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  Opius looked to the cracked, dusty window. A scene played out behind it, similar to the ones I'd passed earlier in the dream. This time, young Mikael flung himself at the tutor, yelling at him. The vision was blurred but I could make out some details. Mikael's rat had escaped and been caught nibbling at the tutor’s food. The tutor held the rat in his fist, squeezing it tightly over Mikael's head while he yelled. Mikael was distraught, tears running down his face while he tried to reach his pet. He managed to reach the tutor's hand and touch the rat. As he did, there was a shift in the vision, like a folding. The scene I watched slowed and blurred further, except for one thing. The rat. Its image sharpened and it continued to squirm as everything else ground to a stop. It struggled free, then scampered out of the window pane and into the dream world, then ran off. I reached into my pocket. Instead of the rat, I found the chess piece with his face.

  "This is Jones?"

  "Yes. To this day I do not know how-" Opius stopped speaking and gasped in a painful breath. As he did so, the world around me rumbled and shook. Larger bits of debris started to fall around me and a rock hit my shoulder, sending me sprawling to the floor as I tried to dodge it. This time, the shaking building didn't settle. The tremor continued as the roof crumbled. The figurine I held fell and rolled across the sloping floor, coming to rest against the far wall.

  "Jones!" Opius cried out, crawling across to retrieve it.

  I followed him, scrambling around a beam that had fallen between us.

  "Use the knife. You must use it! Jones will guide you out." I pulled out the knife.

  "What about Harrod?" I yelled over the screaming sound of the world tearing apart around us.

  "I'm sorry, it's too late. You must do it, do it now or you'll be trapped here."

  Opius beckoned me towards him with one hand, as the other offered the carving. As I reached for it, he lunged forwards. He pushed me down and kneed me in the side while he clambered over me to wrench the knife out of my hands. A tearing sound ripped the air apart and a portion of the tower slid away, and a section of floor beside me disintegrated. A wall tumbled down, rocks pelting us both as we grappled for the knife. Something heavy landed on my leg, pinning me as Opius raised the knife. Thunder rolled outside and the room swayed. Opius fell to the side, then rolled on top of me, thrusting with the knife. I caught it before it struck, pushing his arm back.

  A bestial screech sounded outside, followed by the crashing rumble of a wall being knocked over. A shower of pebbles and dirt fell over my face. Opius was lifted into the air above me, claws around his body drawing a stream of blood. The knife slipped out of his hand, landing near me. I strained to reach it. He struggled free, Harrod just managing to catch the end of Opius's robe on a sharp talon. I lay trapped under the rubble, Opius dangling over me at roof height. Just as my fingers found purchase on the knife, Opius crashed into the stone floor and landed with a wet crack onto my outstretched arm.

  I looked over. Opius lay face down on the floor, body twisted and broken as it had been when I'd thrown him out of the window. This time however, something protruded from his side. The bronze knife tip wasn't bloodied. I watched, dazed, as it sucked the life out of its previous owner

  Everything exploded.

  I was falling through a void. Bits of rubble and debris dotted the black surroundings, tumbling through space. Wind whipped against my skin as I plummeted towards nothing. Heart in my throat, I choked off a scream. My body tried to tear itself apart, limbs screaming in pain. I twisted around and looked for Harrod. He was himself again, a limp figure a little below me, just out of reach. Angling my body like a skydiver, I edged closer to him. Grabbing a sleeve, I pulled him towards me. Jones. I couldn't see him. The tearing in my body was too much and spots floated in front of my eyes. I realised the darkness had deepened, eating away the rubble that fell around us. I couldn't see anything but myself and Harrod. Then, just as blackness closed in and I started to numb, a stinging pain in my finger tickled the last of my consciousness. Jones.

  I let the darkness take me.

  Chapter Sixteen

  As if from a deep sleep, my consciousness crept back to me. I sat, slumped into a carved chair next to a sleeping Harrod. Fuzzily, I looked around to see I was back in the parlour room of the Guardians.

  "I am very glad to see you made it". The white-haired Guardian from the Other stirred a cup of tea as she looked me over.

  "What happened? Why am I here?" I wrapped my arms around my middle, shivering. The Guardian handed me the cup and I held it, warming my face over the gentle steam it released.

  "This is but a small detour. We simply wanted to see our charge was safe."

  "Am I still in the dream?"

  "No, child. The creature freed you, though I know not why. He guided you both out but I snatched you briefly from that path to speak. You will both wake, safe and well. Now, I believe you have something of ours?" She showed no impatience, but sat with her hands folded gently in her lap.

  "The other one - the human child. She said you didn't want it, that it was given away freely. Why should I give it back?"

  "Because it has served its purpose. It is no longer needed in the world of Men. What havoc could be wrought if another found it?"

  Angry, I told her it should never have been 'found' in the first place. She laughed, a tinkling sound that sent chills through my already cold body.

  "I want no part in your schemes, Fae. The other one of your kind said- "

  "There is no other. We are one. All the Guardians are one. It is this that holds our world together and if we are sundered, all that we know will come to an end." Her voice was frightening, filling the room like a bad feeling and piercing my bones. Her face softened and her voice became gentle. "It is important you know this, child, for when you cleave us apart, you must know the weight of what you do. Remember, child. Always remember."

  Jones chirruped and ran to her, settling in her lap. I thought about the knife and what it could do.

  "Will you promise it will be safe from the hands of men? That it won't make its way into our world again?"

  "I shall promise that it will never be touched again by a man, that it will never leave here. I promise that you will never again be threatened by its existence."

  I sighed. She couldn't lie, but she could twist her words to make something seem true when it wasn't. I thought it through, but was too tired to poke holes in her words.

  "Fine." Taking the knife I proffered to her, she kissed my forehead and I sank back into sleep.

  * * *

  A finger prodded my cheek, then lifted an eyelid. I flinched, forcing my eyes open to see Barg leaning over me.

  "Lady? Oh, Lady! Oh Lady, I am so happy you are alive! You... are alive, yes?"

  I tried to move, then stopped and grimaced as pain flooded my body. My arm was pinned by a soft, heavy weight and beneath it, my fist was clenched and cramped.

  "What happened?"

  "Barg is not completely, entirely, considerably sure Lady. Barg came in to check when Lady did not return. If Lady was in trouble and Barg did not come?" The hobgoblin shuddered. "That would not be a very good thing for Barg. When I came, the Lord was... well... like that!"

  He tilted his head sideways, trying to look at me the right way up. I pushed the fleshy lump off of me. It was Opius. I scrambled back in a frantic panic, away from the dead body. Something hard hit me in the back and I looked up to see a crumbling golem standing to attention. A whimper left me before I realised it was dead, smooth stone now worn away into pitted ruins.

  Shit, Harrod! I stood, then winced. A quick check showed none of my injuries were too serious, though I was covered in bruises like I'd been in a rockslide. Dawn was only just breaking and shadows still stretched across the room. I retrieved my wand from the floor, but I didn't trace a light yet. First I wanted to get the hell out of this city and back to Harrod. Despite what the Guardian had said, I wouldn't be convinced he was safe until I saw it with my own eyes. Then, home.


  Barg helped me out of the mansion. We stumbled through the street of the Inner City, less careful about being seen. I didn't think anyone would find Opius at least until morning but I'd best not be seen in the area. Despite that, I was too tired to do much about it. Luckily the streets were clear. The attendants of the Gala were most likely tucked up in bed right now, safe from the cold streets and rough half-bloods. When we got to the gate, Barg used the last of his vanishing powder to get us through. He grumbled about it loudly enough that I worried the guards would hear, but they were nearing the end of a long shift and didn't pay any attention to the noise.

  The walk back to Harrod's went slowly. I was torn between wanting to hurry, and not wanting to face what lay ahead. The Guardian hadn't been very specific with her words and my bruises showed at least some of the damage carried through to the waking world. By the time we got to his door, exhaustion numbed my body. My head pounded and the contents of my stomach threatened to evict themselves on the doorstep. All were typical symptoms of Talent-burn, the effect of using more power than you were capable of. I wouldn't be able to think straight for days, let alone trace even a minor spell.

  I walked up to the imposing entrance to Harrod's house. Instead of knocking on the door, I just stared at it for a moment. Then, I slumped onto the stoop and wept.

  It was Gibble who found me. Barg, alarmed at my tears, had gone straight to him, and he'd come out to find me. Without speaking, he collected me up in his big strong arms and just held me for a moment.

  "Little man is awake, Lady." His deep voice vibrated through my body. "You did a stupid thing, but humans are stupid things, yes? Your stupid thing did save him though."

  I laughed then, through tears and sobs. At my insistence he put me down and didn't comment when I leaned on him heavily as we walked inside. Harrod sat in the sitting room, face pale and eyes creased in pain, but awake. I walked over and he stood, slowly. I wrapped my arms around him and together, we laughed.