Dream Stalker: Talented: Book 1

by Hopkins, Amy

  “You’re still having nightmares.” He said it as a statement, not a question, though his voice was gentle.

  “Yeah.” I hadn’t spoken about that for months.

  “I’m sorry, Emma. I didn’t realise. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  This time it was me who stopped. Eyes on the pavement, I cursed myself for being such a coward. Greyson had done so much for me, and I wanted to help.

  “No, it’s ok. I’ll keep an ear out and tell you if I hear anything.”

  We headed back to the shop. Greyson caught my arm before I went in, then pulled me close for a friendly hug.

  “Take care, ok?” he said. “And don’t worry about the case. I’ve got other contacts, we’ll figure it out.”

  I gave him a tiny smile, then went in.

  * * *

  Gibble looked up when I entered.

  “You look sad” he said matter-of-factly.

  “It’s nothing, Gib.” I tidied up,waited until the last customer left, then flipped the little door sign over to ‘closed’. I didn’t bother locking it, instead ducking upstairs to get changed while Gibble while Gibble sat down with a book. When I came back down, he was waiting by the door for me. I threw my purse into a handbag and we left.

  “Do the lessons be helping, Lady?” Gibble asked as we walked to the port-gates.

  “No. Maybe. I’m more aware of what I can do, but I still have no control over it.”

  “It be taking time, lady. Do not be getting discouraged.”

  We reached the port-gates and I spoke the word to take us to the entrance to the Inner City. Flashing my papers to the guard on duty, we hurried through the streets as the sun started to dip behind the tall buildings. Gibble had taken to walking me to my lessons with Mergime, but was always eager to leave for the Otherworld by sundown. He never spoke of why, or where he went, and when we were running late one day he did stay until after the sun disappeared to make sure I reached my destination safely. He’d seemed anxious though, so I tried not to let that happen again.

  We reached the house of Lady Mergime Dumass and when I turned around to see Gibble off, I gave him an impulsive hug. He chuckled and waved as he left. Before I had the chance to know, the old oak door swung open. I took a breath, set my shoulders and stepped inside.

  As soon as I passed through, I was assaulted by a cacophony of noise. Beethoven’s Fifth screamed at me while birds screeched in the background and thunder boomed. I flinched but, try as I might, couldn’t engage my blocking Talent to make it stop. The noise intensified, piercing my ears and making my head throb. Then, a physical attack. Not pain, but the pattering of a thousand butterfly wings on my skin, beating me with tiny flicking sensations. I reflexively tried to wave it out of my face, squeezing my eyes shut and holding my breath to stop inhaling imaginary insects. Abruptly, it stopped.

  “Were you born in a cave?”

  Flushing at the reprimand, I turned and closed the door behind me. Mergime was old, a strong Talent and a legend in the Talent-tutoring field. She also had the compassion of a bedpost. How Harrod had convinced her to take on a student like me was beyond my imagination. Mergime snorted loudly at my inability to block her attacks. Every visit followed the same pattern. She’d coaxed me, bombarded me, surprised me and flat out cursed me. My blocking ability was sporadic at best, absent at worst. Today was one of the worse ones. Halfway through the lesson, she stopped.

  “As fascinating as I find it to wonder what depths of uselessness you’ll reach every day, I really do wonder why I bother.” Her wrinkled face scrunched up around her monocle. It was easy to believe the rumour - that she’d declined healing after the loss of an eye simply because the healer in question hadn’t studied beneath her.

  “I’m sorry, Mergime, I’m trying my best.” I tried to keep the words respectful but they came out through gritted teeth.

  “In which case I wonder why you bother.”

  I muttered something under my breath and she raised an eyebrow at me.

  “I’ve spent the last six months using every technique at my disposal. Today, you haven’t even managed a simple rebuff of the most basic spell.” She flicked her wand up as she spoke, and I flinched from an attack that didn’t come. She sneered.

  “I’m trying.” My nostrils were flared and my face hot, not embarrassment this time. “I don’t enjoy being assaulted every time I walk through the door. If I could click my fingers and engage the block, I would. If I knew of something, anything that would help, I’d tell you. Are you sure you’ve tried everything?”

  My mouth clicked shut and my heart started racing. What had come over me? Speaking to a Talent ranked as highly as Mergime was not a good idea. Mergime looked at me, her pointed expression telling me how well she appreciated my question.

  “There is nothing left to for me to try. I’ve even employed methods used by less qualified tutors who have need of cheap tricks to bolster their meagre reputations. At some point, one has to wonder if a student is simply unteachable.” She folded her hands and stared me down. Rather than feeling cowed, anger rose within me.

  “Even if progress is gained by cheap tricks, it’s better than six months of going backwards.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “It’s useless!” I said. “It can’t be controlled. Surely if it could I’d have found a way by now, even just a hint.”

  “Perhaps,” she said again. “And yet, you’ve just completely shut down a three tiered attack on all the senses without batting an eyebrow. Ah. I see from the surprise on your face that you hadn’t even noticed.”

  My body went rigid with shock. She was right - my gift pulsed through my body, the ever-so-light touch of spells slithering off my skin. This wasn’t the first time I’d embraced it unknowingly. The frustrating part was that instead of getting easier to tell when I’d done it, it was getting harder. Mergime shook her head disparagingly.

  “Harrod was right to bring you to me, despite your shortcomings. You may just be the most unique student I have ever encountered; that is the only reason I persist. It’s certainly not due to your dedication to your work, or the respect you show to your betters.”

  And so our lessons went. It seemed the only way I was able to consistently able to use my gift was when I was angry, or in fear of my life- a training technique I’d vetoed after the first session. Mergime would batter, harangue and insult me until I finally got fed up and my anger fed into my gift to trigger it. I was no closer to figuring out how to control it consciously that I was the day I first used it. Harrod insisted that despite her prickly demeanour, she was the best Talent trainer he knew; that she was an expert on training Talents with gifted abilities like mine; and that above all, we could trust her.

  This last was key, as a gift like mine could be dangerous to have if it became general knowledge but Harrod swore up and down that she wouldn’t tell a soul. Unfortunately, ‘trustworthy’ didn’t mean ‘nice’. Mergime treated me like dirt and I was pretty sure it didn’t have anything to do with a tactical effort to trigger my gift through the anger she caused. No, she was just a curmudgeonly old bat with a strong prejudice against half-bloods. To her, I was nothing more than an experiment.

  As if to drive that point home, she rounded on me after my block slipped yet again.

  “Do you have any idea how many students wish I could give them the attention I’ve given you? I have nobles demanding my classes who spend every moment in study and practice, who do nothing but work on the improvement of their abilities. Your dedication leaves much to be desired, no matter how impressive your raw ability is.” She pursed her wrinkled lips and snorted. “This lesson is at an end. If I see no convincing sign of improvement three lessons from now, I will need to seriously consider whether I shall keep you on as a student.”

  I wasn’t angry anymore, I was mortified. My face went red and tears pricked my eyes. How would I tell Harrod? He’d bent over backwards and put his reputation on the line to even get me an audience with Mergime. The only hal
f-blood she’d agreed to train before me was incredibly gifted and done great things. Me? I’d failed before I’d even got out of the gate. Mergime flicked the door open with a flick of her wand and I hurriedly gathered my things. As I passed her, she caught my shoulder in a painful grip.

  “Don’t think tears will engender my sympathy, girl. I have students undergoing far worse trials than mere laziness. You will return having trained and improved, or you will not return.”

  I bolted out the door and into the dark street. My lesson had ended early; normally Harrod would be here to drive me hom e- he didn’t like me wandering the streets of the inner city alone any more than I did. Glad for a short space of time to gather my thoughts and calm down, I sent him a text message and started walking. Ok, it more of a stomp. When the Bentley slid up behind me, I was still shaking and sniffling. Letting out a sigh of defeat, I climbed into the car, ready to face a barrage of questions. To my surprise, Martin was in the car instead. I shut the door and he gestured to Davoss, the brownie who worked as Martin and Harrod’s driver, to head home.

  “You look like you’ve had a wonderful time.”

  I didn’t grace him with a reply, sinking back into the leather seat and staring out the window.

  “That good? Don’t worry, I won’t ask. I imagine you’ll be thrilled to hear my next bit of news though- Harrod’s not here because Abnett popped by for a meeting. When Harrod said he was on his way to get you, Abnett insisted on sending me, to bring you back. He wants to talk to you.”

  “You can’t be serious” I groaned, covered my face with my hands.

  Martin looked at me closely. “Are you ok?” All trace of his usual smart ass self was gone from his voice.

  “I’ll survive. Just... Can we go back the long way?”

  “Sure.”

  Martin sent a quick message from his phone, then leaned forward to say something to Davoss. The faske grunted, then nodded. Martin’s phone beeped and he fired off another text. I paid little attention, settling back with my eyes closed and trying to will the puffiness from my face. It was still early, but fatigue made my bones ache as it often did after a lesson. Despite the lack of Talent I’d displayed for my tutor, I had used some magic, and the effort of trying to grasp at something I couldn’t find had left me drained. I sat up when the car came to a halt and the engine switched off. I looked about.

  “I thought you said Abnett was waiting for me at your place?”

  “I told them to reschedule. Oh don’t look at me like that- I just said you were tired from the lesson, that’s all.”

  “Thanks Martin. I owe you.” I was glad that Martin had come instead of his brother. Though Harrod’s heart was in the right place, sometimes he could be a little blind to the needs of others.

  I climbed out of the car but before it drove away, Martin’s window slid down.

  “You know,” he said. “You don’t have to keep doing it. Harrod suggested the lessons because he thought they’d help. You won’t be letting him down if you stop.”

  “I know. It’s fine, the lesson just didn’t go as well as I’d hoped.” A lie, followed by the understatement of the year. Harrod did care about the lessons- he’d been on my back from the very first one, grilling me about how it went. He’d constantly asked for updates and though he was always kind and encouraging, it felt like I was failing him. I was failing him, myself, and everyone around me. Why couldn’t it be easier? If I could just figure out the how, then I could work at it. Mergime telling me to practice when she wasn’t there was like telling me to practice a symphony without an instrument.

  I slunk inside like a cowed, wet dog. Lenny greeted me with a whine and a cuddle and I took myself up to bed.