Dark Consort

by Amber R. Duell

  Shh, the darkness cautioned, and I took my first full breath since the Sandman spoke. It was right. The Sandman wanted peace, not war, and I needed him on my side. More than needed. I wanted him there the same way I wanted him in my dreams every night, and that counted for more than anything else could.

  I took another slow breath to ease the hard edge of anger and asked, “What was her answer?”

  He pressed his lips into a straight line and shook his head.

  “Of course,” I grumbled.

  “We have time before you go back. I can draw her out and finish this before then, if it’s what you want.”

  “No.” I broke away from him. “The nightmares have to respect me. Fear me. If you win this for me, they won’t do either, and you know that.” He knew it well because I shared the same thought months ago only for it to be shot down by his sound logic.

  “Nora—”

  “This isn’t something either of us wanted, but it is what it is. I’m what I am.” I pushed back at the grin, widening as if it had claim to that sentiment. “How many are going to suffer because of this? How many Dreamers have you saved, and how many more needed to be saved and weren’t? I have to take responsibility for what I did to the Weaver, so you can either take me back tomorrow or I’ll find my own way.”

  “We won’t know much more than we do now,” he argued.

  “A lot can happen in twenty-four hours.” A lot could happen in twenty-four seconds. A choice. A swing of a blade. A transfer of magic.

  “It’s too soon,” the Sandman said softly.

  No. I sighed. Tomorrow is too late.

  I found myself once again on the eve of betrayal. Only this time, I wasn’t uncertain like I had been when we left the Dream Realm for the Weaver’s Keep. There was a chance that I wouldn’t use the knife then; there was no chance that I wouldn’t try to leave now, with or without the Sandman. My chest ached at the thought. How had we managed to get to this place? We were so close for five years. Was five months all it took to change that?

  When he stood to leave, I grabbed his arm. My heart pumped, panic racing through me like blood in my veins. I loved him more than anyone or anything, and I was about to risk it all. Again. There was only so much a person could forgive, and I’d already nearly killed him. It wasn’t intentional, but if I listened to him, it wouldn’t have happened at all. For anyone else, it would’ve been the final straw. To do this, to go behind his back without ignorance as an excuse—I swallowed hard.

  “Don’t leave me,” I whispered, my voice cracking.

  He stared down at me, confused.

  Don’t abandon me, I wanted to clarify. Don’t hate me. But I couldn’t without giving myself away, so I scooted over and patted the bed instead. He sat without a word and draped an arm over my shoulders. I breathed in his scent. Soaked up his warmth. Reveled in the feel of his skin. “What you did with the stars the other night was amazing. I miss them.” I snuggled closer. “I miss you. Us.”

  His hand tightened on my shoulder. “I’m right here. I’ll always be right here.”

  Not always.

  I tilted my head up to kiss the spot beneath his ear. His breath hitched, and I smirked against him. Then I did it again. His fingers drifted from my shoulder up the side of my neck before he lowered his lips to mine. It was a soft reminder that, at least for this moment, he was mine and I was his. Just like we promised. Even if he couldn’t forgive me, even if I couldn’t forgive myself, I knew I would never stop loving him. There was no Nora without the Sandman. I moved closer and leaned in to deepen the kiss. His fingers found the back of my head, weaving into my hair.

  I felt each of his movements with every part of me. The sureness in the way he cradled my head, the gentle way he moved against me. The bed shifted, and he knelt in front of me without breaking contact. His free hand dug into my lower back, holding me closer, and in return, I gripped the sides of his vest.

  Now, with the Sandman close, the darkness felt far away. It was as if I was me again, and I took and took until I wanted more than his kisses. My hands slipped down to his waist. My fingers found the hem of his shirt and slipped beneath it. He shivered as my fingers ran over the sensitive skin just above his pants, and a small moan escaped my throat. I loved that I had this effect on him. My palms flattened against his stomach, and his mouth fell to my cheek, my jaw, my neck. I tilted my head to give him easier access and tugged on his bunched shirt.

  The Sandman broke away long enough to let me pull his shirt and vest over his head. The crescent moon tattooed on his chest glowed faintly in the darkness of my room, lifting and falling with each of his rapid breaths. The sight sparked something inside me, and another small groan escaped my lips as he kissed my neck again. His grip tightened on my arms at the sound, almost as if he were forcing himself to keep them in place. But I didn’t want him to. I wanted to feel them on me. I needed to—so I wiggled beneath him until I finally managed to remove my shirt too.

  The Sandman stared at me, pupils blown wide. “Nora—” I held my breath and waited. Waited for him to tell me again that we should stop. Instead, his eyes trailed down my body before coming back up to my face. I watched as the internal struggle vanished from behind his eyes. “We don’t have to do this.”

  “I want to,” I assured him.

  His throat bobbed. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m more than sure,” I whispered and gave the fabric around his hips a little tug, begging him to stop talking and start touching.

  Still, he hesitated a moment longer, and then a small trail of sand rose from the pouch around his neck. It floated across the room and disappeared into the crack around the doorknob. There was a faint click of the lock.

  I turned back to the Sandman with a playful smile. “Smooth.”

  “I try.” His voice was deeper than I’d ever heard it before.

  He kissed me again, slowly. Reverently. My heart hammered in my chest, and my hands shook as I worked the ties at the front of his pants. He lowered himself back over me and nudged my ear with his nose. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” And I meant it with all that I was.

  10

  Nora

  The pen slid smoothly across the envelope. I took my time with each cursive letter, feeling the finality of the words inside. Now that I’d cooled down a bit, I knew I had to leave them something. The explanation of my whereabouts was still vague, but a little more elaborate in that I gave a general idea of where I was going-but-not-really-going. I would scope out New York, live it up a little before the internship started. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, I wrote at the end of the letter. So what if it wasn’t completely logical to manage such a feat? After not working for months, the money I made from working at Howell’s Furniture and Decor wasn’t enough to travel for so long in such an expensive place. Most of my savings went into the small arsenal hidden beneath GED books in my bookbag.

  I clicked the pen twice and set it carefully on the desk. The letter should probably go to my mother, but I couldn’t bring myself to scrawl those three little letters. Instead, Katie’s name stared up at me. My sister wouldn’t know exactly what happened or where I was, but she would know I hadn’t hopped the first bus out of town, even if she pretended otherwise.

  This was it. I drew a deep breath and placed the envelope at the center of my desk. It was the lone object on the surface, the study guides now in the trash and everything else swept into drawers. If this worked, there would be no going back.

  I set my head on the wood and squeezed my eyes shut against the prickle of tears. Don’t cry. Strength. Fearlessness. Fortitude. Don’t cry. I couldn’t stay. Do. Not. Cry. I didn’t want to go to that horrible place. No tears allowed when I can only blame myself.

  My gaze shifted to the bed. The sheets were still rumpled from my time with the Sandman. When he left at dawn, I spent a long time lying there, wrapped up in his scent, before showering. I wondered if the pillow, which still had an indent from his
head, would smell like him after so many hours. I bet it would. My heart twisted around itself.

  Truly, I was a horrible, selfish person. I knew what being together meant to him. Even though I felt desperate, even though I wanted to be with the Sandman—had wanted it for so long—it wasn’t right. And the night before I snuck back into the Nightmare Realm? Self-loathing foamed in my throat, threatening to choke me.

  I leapt from the chair, fluffed the pillows, and flung the sheets into place so there was no trace of what we did. If only it were that easy to erase my impending betrayal. The grin faded in, spewing its darkness in what felt like impatience. Maybe eagerness. Both.

  I felt the same way.

  With twitchy movements, I lifted my bookbag from the floor and eased my arms through the straps. Carefully packed inside were a few changes of clothes, necessary toiletries, and a variety of weapons: my Swiss army knife, a Taser, pepper spray, and, most notably, Paul’s handgun I pilfered while he was in the bathroom this morning. With luck, I wouldn’t have to use any of it, but this was the Nightmare Realm. A place where an unknown percentage of creatures wanted me dead. Who was I kidding? Luck had nothing to do with it.

  I removed the pencil box and felt the threads’ desperation through the tin. My hands shook as I opened the lid. Gold filament glimmered weakly around the black threads. I stopped breathing as I stared down at the squirming, unborn nightmares. An ache bloomed inside me. Starved. Angry. I picked up one of the threads and closed the pencil box before I could change my mind. A coil of darkness swirled from the grin the moment I shut it back in the drawer, but I held it back. This wasn’t something to rush into when I’d never used my magic before. For anything. At all. I gnawed my bottom lip.

  With a deep breath, I stared at the thread. My vision blurred, and suddenly I saw—not with my eyes, but some new part of me—exactly what it held. Or, part of the nightmare it would become if given the chance. Off-white skin with pointed thistles along a thick arm, part of a torso, and two nondescript legs. I hadn’t exactly been precise when I’d ripped the thread off the Weaver’s arm, but it felt like something that could be fixed with a working loom.

  “Okay.” I held it up in front of me and thought back to the one time I saw the Weaver turn a strand into a nightmare. He flicked his wrist and it straightened; the Sandman warned him not to create a nightmare in the Dream Realm, and then—then there was that horrifying thing, but I didn’t want to bring the nightmare to life. I swallowed hard.

  “Let it in.”

  I jumped at the sound of Mara’s voice. She crouched in the corner of my room, staring out at me from behind a curtain of coarse hair. “What?” I snapped.

  “The Night World. Let it in. The thread is your tether.”

  Let it in? Wasn’t it already in? “Have you been spying on me again?”

  “You gave me no choice. If I hadn’t, you would leave me here.” She rocked side-to-side. “Besides, it seemed like you needed further guidance.”

  “And you think I’ll take you now just because you’re here?” I clutched the thread to my chest, hiding it from her steady gaze. “I told you I make promises to no one, and you creeping around me twenty-four-seven doesn’t exactly make me feel charitable.”

  “You make promises to the Sandman,” she crooned and eyed the bed. “With words and without them.”

  My face became blistering hot. She was here? She… “You watched us?” I shrieked. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you—”

  “Relax, Lady. I didn’t stay.” Her tongue flicked out in disgust. “I left when he locked the door.”

  “Oh. My. God.” I gaped at her. Enough had happened by that point. “Get out right now.”

  She parted her hair with her long nails. “There’s no need to be embarrassed.”

  “I’m not embarrassed,” I lied. “I’m pissed off.”

  Mara flicked a look at the fist I still held to my chest. “Are you going to try or not?”

  “Not,” I growled.

  Mara tutted, then vanished.

  I slumped in my chair and ran a hand over my face. Did she have to say anything? I could’ve lived the rest of my hopefully-very-long life without knowing she’d seen us kissing. Shirtless. The memory of what followed sparked through me, and I bit my lip. I was still sore despite how gentle the Sandman had been, but it was a good pain. A reminder of what we shared. It also made the guilt a million times worse. We cemented a bond that was already there, and now—

  No.

  I couldn’t second guess myself. I had to go before the entire Nightmare Realm bowed at Rowan’s feet. Before the Day World whittled me down any more than it already had. I swiveled my chair back toward the desk and took a deep breath.

  Right. I exhaled slowly. Just let it in…

  I willed the dark, muted sense of the Nightmare Realm forward, the grin more than eager to assist, but nothing happened. I huffed and slammed the thread down on top of the envelope. The grin sneered. Quitter, it taunted as more wisps caressed its lips. I lifted the thread again.

  And stared.

  And stared.

  I stared at that perfect, watermarked smile. At those curls of black smoke.

  The gold filaments on the thread brightened, the impression of the nightmare fading to nothing. The Nightmare Realm rushed toward me in a flurry of chaos. It called to me, a siren song, beckoning me back into its fold. Begging me. I rose from my seat. “Yes,” I whispered to its unasked question.

  My stomach bottomed out. I careened toward a black shroud, feeling as if I was still and moving all at once. The air burned my eyes, but I kept them wide open out of fear. Fear I would miss something. An obstacle. A danger. The terror of the endless falling sensation gave way to horrified excitement.

  Then pain sliced across my shoulders. The pull slowed, held back by something heavy now attached to my back, and I scrambled to lean forward again. The stabbing pain doubled as whatever held me gripped harder. The movement sent my body careening out of control. I flailed, trying desperately to shake it off. My nails scraped against hard, calloused skin, but whatever it was didn’t let up. If anything, it held even tighter. A scream burned its way out of my throat.

  A thin veil of silver fibers cast a soft glow ahead. I tried to aim for it, but the faster I spun, the harder it became. My stomach clenched, threatening to spew its contents as the spinning continued to intensify. I screamed again, a low, pitiful sound, and black hair whipped into my mouth. I ripped it out and held the coarse locks in my palm. Even with the universe twirling around me, I knew what I was looking at.

  Mara.

  “No!” I pulled at the shank of hair. Reached back for her head. Tried to bite at her hands. All to no avail. I was too dizzy. Too disoriented. “No!” I cried again. Not Mara. She couldn’t be in the Night World. No, no, no! She would destroy everything. The Sandman would think—

  A silver veil snagged us like a net, stretching around my body like a cocoon. It wrapped tight, cutting off my airway, and stars burst across my eyes. It felt like I was stuck there for ages before it gave way with a loud rip. I gasped for air as the fall suddenly resumed. The spinning, thankfully, did not. But even more concerning was the hard ground rising to meet me at an alarming speed. I twisted myself around in the air to let Mara meet the ground first.

  Her body crunched beneath mine, her nails pulling from my shoulders with sickening pops. The world slowed around me. My ears picked up on every little sound my body made, all set to the backdrop of the ringing in my ears. I rolled off Mara, bones grinding, and wheezed. My sneakers scraped against the dirt to find purchase, but it was no use. Jell-O. I was Jell-O.

  Mara leapt to her feet and shook her limbs out. “Thank you, Lady,” she croaked with a knowing stare.

  “Mara,” I squeezed out. “Wait.”

  Instead, she raced away in her loping gait. I shoved myself up to follow, but my knees buckled. My cheek scraped against the rock and dirt, and I groaned. Exhaustion bore down on me with its full weight.
I struggled to keep my eyes open, but after five months without any real rest, it was a beast of a thing.

  Consciousness hit me like a freight train. I flew up into a sitting position and instantly regretted the movement. My head swam through murky water; my muscles ached. I squinted down at my body, a hiss leaking from between my teeth as my neck throbbed. Everything looked intact, albeit filthy. I wiggled my toes. All in working order. It was more than I expected after dropping out of the sky into… My pulse quickened. This was decidedly not the place where I collapsed. When I fell on Mara, it was… I wasn’t exactly sure. The whole thing happened so fast—the falling, the landing—but the brown dirt on my clothes proved the overwhelmingly green landscape around me was different.

  Green buttons, to be exact. Stacked from largest to smallest to make a forest of pines.

  I blinked the last bits of fuzziness from my eyes to find a dozen shapes hidden among them, watching me. I froze and stared back at the woodland nightmares. Rabbits, squirrels, deer, a single raccoon, and tiny birds. Their eyes, made of black buttons, seemed lifeless, but they were undoubtedly alive. Their bodies, made of more stacked buttons of varying colors and shades, clicked gently with every slight movement.

  “What the hell is this?” I staggered to my feet.

  As I did, the nightmares bowed their heads. The string holding the buttons together peeked through each tiny crack. I gave a quiet, surprised gasp. That was a good sign, but there was no way any of them could have dragged me here, so who did? I reached for the straps of my bookbag to get a weapon, only to find it missing. “No.” I spun, searching the carpet of brown and green buttons beneath my feet and slammed my palms over my shoulders as if finding them bare was a mistake.

  A rapid burst of pain splintered beneath my hands and sent me reeling back a step. Mara. I slid the neck of my shirt over my left shoulder to examine the wounds from her long nails. Black thread dipped in and out of my skin, holding the holes together with a slight pucker. My heart thudded in my chest. Who—