by Bryan Davis
“Sounds reasonable,” Nathan said, “at least as dreams go.”
While following a meandering path for several minutes, they entered a suburban neighborhood, shaded by thundering storm clouds overhead. Now walking on rubberized streets, they passed a headless woman on a bicycle who was trying to find a place to insert her iPod earbuds. In front of a mansion-like house on a perfectly manicured lawn, a man in a clown costume juggled a woman, three children, and a briefcase. As if on a treadmill, he ran in place, huffing and puffing, but getting nowhere.
Nathan stared at them, knowing they couldn't possibly be real. When they faded into ghostlike images, he shuddered. This was just too weird.
With each change of scenery, they passed through a soft membrane, a dry, gelatin-like substance, about ten feet thick, that sent a buzzing sensation across Nathan's skin. The transparent wall raised a tickle for a few moments, but it seemed harmless. During each passage, a precipice appeared on his left, and a vague pull forced him to lean to the right to keep from walking over the side and into a dark void. It obviously marked a boundary of some kind. Could it be the wall between different dreams? Alternate realities that a dreamer could visit?
After a brief walk through a desert, they penetrated a membrane for the third time. He slowed his pace for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust. It seemed that ribbons of light swirled into the void from every direction, as if it were a drain. The pull seemed harder than ever, but not unbearable. Yet, Cerulean seemed oblivious to it. A strange sound emanated from the depths, like a song — a soft, familiar song. Nathan craned his neck, listening. Could it be? Yes, it sounded like someone humming “Be Thou My Vision.”
“What's that dark place?” he asked.
Cerulean paused and looked that way. “The void. This world of visions surrounds it. Every dream eventually crumbles and is pulled in there.”
“Why is it pulling me? I'm not part of a dream.”
Cerulean jerked his head toward Nathan. “The void affects you?”
Nathan gave him a half nod, unsure if he should be admitting it. “Is that bad?”
“I am not sure.” Cerulean stared for a long moment, then marched on.
Nathan followed. Should he ask about the humming? Cerulean seemed to be worried about something, and in a hurry. It would be better not to slow him down.
Soon, they entered the darkest place yet, a cemetery with old tombstones rising at odd angles from grave plots. Bones littered the weed-infested grounds. Gnarled oak trees with hanging moss painted twisted shadows on the winding path that coursed through the abandoned yard. A large raven perched atop one of the burial markers, staring at Nathan as he passed by.
“Inscription,” it croaked. “Read. Read.”
Nathan paused and leaned closer. “You mean on the tombstone?”
“Yes! Read! Read!”
Cerulean grabbed his arm. “No. It is not wise to heed the words of the dream creatures.”
“But if they're not real, what could it hurt?”
His bright blues eyes sparkling in the candle's glow, Cerulean inhaled deeply. “A vision stalker is close. I fear that he has manipulated the environment, and our safety may very well be compromised.”
“Just reading the tombstone won't hurt.” Nathan took the candle and shuffled to the side of the grave. With the raven still leering at him, he held the flame close to the stone. The inscription, spelled out in deeply etched block letters, read, “Here lies Kelly Clark, murdered in her sleep by Nathan Shepherd. Even now she is unable to rest in peace as her killer shines a light over her bed.”
“What?” Nathan slid back. “How could a tombstone know I'm here?”
Cerulean stared at the raven. “Three possibilities. Kelly sees us in her dream, so she created the inscription even as you drew close. Yet, I think that is unlikely since she doesn't see you as a threat to her life. Still, stranger things do happen in dreams. Second, a stalker could have manipulated this place, and he is trying to intimidate you to keep you from proceeding. Third, and perhaps the most dangerous of all, is the possibility that you are becoming part of the dreamscape.”
“How is that possible?”
“Amber spoke of this when she heard about Jack's entry. If Patar sent Jack here to keep him alive, then he likely expected the poor man to become part of the dream world, a living phantom who wanders in people's nightmares. He would be alive, yes, but only Patar would know how to extract him without killing him.”
Nathan pointed at himself. “Then can I leave safely? I mean, I'm not becoming part of this place yet, am I?”
Fixing his gaze on Nathan, Cerulean shook his head. “You appear solid, so one of the other two options is more likely. I suspect that a vision stalker is present.”
Nathan peered behind the tombstone, but nothing was there. “Who? Mictar?”
“He would be powerful enough.” Cerulean took a quick step and grabbed the raven by the throat. It choked out a squawk and flailed its wings under the supplicant's grip, vainly trying to claw his arm. “Where is your master?”
“New inscription,” it croaked again. “Read!”
Cerulean shook its body. “You have a voice. Tell me who sent you.”
“Read! Read!” The raven broke free and in a scattering of feathers flew into the darkness above.
As a black pinion floated to the ground, Cerulean took the candle back from Nathan. “Come. We must hurry. The longer we stay here, the greater the danger.”
“Shouldn't we read the inscription again?”
Cerulean held the flame high and wrapped a hand around Nathan's arm. “It is of no consequence. If the message has been written by the stalker, it is likely a lie. If it is a product of Kelly's nightmarish fears, it will only work to heighten your own. And if you are becoming part of this world, deep emotions will only hasten the process.”
“Not knowing will drive me crazy.” Nathan squinted at the tombstone, but it was too dark to read. “Taking a second won't hurt.”
Cerulean held fast. “The risk is too high. Your uncharacteristic insistence demonstrates that the effect this place is having on you is escalating rapidly. You are losing your ability to reason.”
“But I have to know.” As Nathan pulled against Cerulean's grip, the supplicant's blue hair grew fuzzy, looking like reeds waving under restless waters. “Let me go.”
“Nathan!”
The shout sounded like a thunderclap. Nathan spun toward it. Ahead on the path, a man stood with his fists set against his hips. Tall and lean, he appeared to be dangling a plastic bag from his fingers.
Nathan blinked. “Is it Mictar?”
“No,” Cerulean said, loosening his grip. “It is Patar.”
Patar walked three steps closer and halted. Now about five paces away, his face bent into a deep scowl. “You should not have come here. It is far too dangerous.”
Nathan glanced between Patar and the tombstone. He pointed at the inscription. “I have to know what is says. Kelly might be communicating with me.”
“As you can see, Cerulean …” Patar's voice grew distant, warped, as if he were speaking from the midst of a cave. “He is already being absorbed.” The stalker's slender form now seemed foggy, distorted, more like a dream than reality.
Cerulean nodded. “I can see that now. He is showing signs of fading.”
“I'm fading?” Nathan pointed at Cerulean, then at Patar. “You two are the ghostly looking ones.”
“It's only going to get worse,” Patar said. “His mental defenses are withering, and Kelly's nightmare is reaching a climax.”
A sudden gust of wind blew away a blanket of clouds. A full moon, at least five times its usual size, hovered in a purple sky. Its glow illuminated the cemetery, allowing a clearer view of the dozens of tombstones.
“Shall I take him out immediately,” Cerulean asked, “or should I find Jack first?”
A low rumble sounded at Nathan's side. At the gravesite where the raven once perched, a hand pushed out of the
earth, then a second hand and a head. Finally, an entire body, short and feminine, climbed up and shook dirt from her shoulder-length hair. She looked straight ahead and called, “Nathan? Are you here?”
“Kelly?” Nathan stared at her. “It really is you!”
Wearing a knee-length nightshirt, she brushed off the soil, revealing letters on the front, Sanity Is Overrated. Then, extending her arms, she staggered toward him, feeling for obstacles in her way. “Nathan? Where are you? I hear your voice.”
As she drew closer, he stiffened. Kelly had no eyes, only vacant sockets. Could she be the Earth Blue Kelly, somehow resurrected? Or was she Kelly Red, a recent victim of Mictar's cruel electrified hand? Yet, wasn't she just part of a dream? She looked real enough.
Kelly stopped and touched Nathan's cheeks with her cold fingers. “There you are. Why didn't you answer me?” She shivered and rubbed her arms. “I'm cold and scared. Will you get me out of this dark place? I can't see a thing.”
Nathan reached for her hand but then jerked back. “You're just a mirage. I can't take you anywhere.”
“You are correct.” Cerulean lifted his candle higher. “Stay in the light, Nathan. Do not be deceived.”
“This is no time for joking around,” Kelly said. Bouncing on the toes of her sock-covered feet, she shook harder. “You can't leave me in this horrible place. It's so cold, so terribly cold. Please take me home.” She reached out and groped for him. With missing eyes and dirty face, she seemed like a pitiful waif as her voice broke into a lament. “Nathan … please … I'm scared.”
“I'll get you out.” He grabbed her hand. “Just hang on.”
Her chilled fingers wrapped around his bandaged palm. She was solid, real, not a hint of fading.
“Oh, thank you.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I told you never to leave me, not even for a minute. I felt so alone. So scared. I have no idea how all that dirt got on me. It was like I was buried in a grave.”
For a moment, dizziness flooded Nathan's mind, but he shook it off. “Just stay with me. Cerulean will get us out of here.”
“Nathan!” Cerulean warned again. “If you continue—”
“Let him go for a moment.” His voice fading even further, Patar poured out the contents of his bag into Cerulean's hand. “When I wrestled with my brother, I recovered Jack's eyes from his energy reserves. You will find him approximately one hundred paces ahead. Restore these and get him and Nathan out of here with all speed.”
Nathan stared at Cerulean's transparent palm. Two eyeballs lay there, perfectly formed, with nerves and moist tissue attached. Nathan nearly gagged, but he stayed quiet.
“Because Nathan broke the portal mirror,” Patar continued, “you will not be able to travel to my world to play the violin at Sarah's Womb, at least not right now. You can, however, travel to Earth Yellow to gather other options.”
“Yes,” Cerulean replied. “Nathan's mother is playing ‘Foundation's Key’ as we speak to see which mirror is the correct portal. While we were waiting, we decided to try to find Jack, since he entered the dream world from Earth Blue. I was unsure of how the dreamscape would affect Nathan, so this was a test.”
“And he failed, as usual. His desire for revenge against my brother outweighed his wisdom. He had the power to escape with the mirror intact.”
“Nathan,” Kelly said, her fingers growing warmer within his hand. “Don't let him talk about you like that. You did the best you could. You were under a lot of pressure.”
“You're right. I don't know why they're saying those things.”
“Then don't listen. We'll find our own way out.”
“Go now,” Patar said, “before that rotting cadaver becomes more real to him than life itself. He will soon bond with it beyond all hope of reason.” With that, Patar faded out of sight.
Cerulean put the eyeballs back into the bag and stuffed the open edges into his waistband. Then, lifting the candle, he pulled Nathan's arm. “Jack's up ahead. Let's get him and flee this place.”
Leading Kelly by the hand, Nathan went along with the pull. He followed Cerulean, now a blue ghost in his sight. “Did you hear that, Kelly? We can follow him. We'll be out of here soon.”
“Thank you, Nathan.” She staggered along, her empty sockets still wide. “I knew you wouldn't leave me here.”
With the moon shining brightly, the going was easier. It took only a few seconds to find Jack sitting on the ground, leaning against a tombstone. Although Cerulean was now as transparent as thinning fog, Jack seemed solid enough.
Running his fingers through his thick beard, Jack looked around with his empty eyes. “Who is here?” he asked.
“He is losing his grip on reality as well,” Cerulean said as he crouched next to the tombstone. “I will have to work quickly.”
“He looks fine. He's not fading at all.” Nathan turned to Kelly. He almost said, “Right, Kelly?” forgetting for a moment that she couldn't see anything. Still, even without her lovely brown eyes, she looked—
“Take this.” Cerulean handed Nathan the candle. “Watch me through the flame.”
“Oh. Okay.” Feeling dizzy again, Nathan held the flame close to his nose and peered around both sides. Cerulean pulled the eyeballs from the bag. Then, singing unintelligible words at a high pitch, he laid his palm over Jack's empty sockets and pushed the eyeballs into place. Keeping his hand there for a moment, he continued singing while blue light seeped around the edges.
With every second, Cerulean grew more solid while Jack stayed the same. Nathan looked back at Kelly. Her face seemed fuzzier, distant. Still holding his bandaged hand, she angled her head as if listening.
“What's happening?” she asked.
“Everything's okay.” As he spoke, her features clarified again. “Cerulean is repairing Jack's eyes. We'll leave in a minute.”
Nathan turned back to Cerulean, lowering the candle to see him better. Now ghostly blue again, Cerulean helped Jack to his feet.
“Can you see?” Cerulean asked.
“Very well, thank you.” Jack pulled a rumpled fedora from beneath his jacket and straightened it out. “I can see everything well, except for you.” He put on his hat and turned toward Nathan, his restored eyes glistening. “Nathan! I'm so glad to see you.”
“Same here.” Nathan gave the candle back to Cerulean and shook Jack's hand with his relatively uninjured left. “Now let's all get out of this place. I have to figure out what happened to Kelly and get some eyes for her, too.”
“Nathan.” Cerulean pushed the candle closer. “You and Jack will come with me. You must leave Kelly behind.”
“What?” Nathan shook his head hard. “I can't leave her here.”
Kelly's arm locked around his. “No, Nathan! No!”
Cerulean pulled Jack and Nathan together and held the candle's flame near their eyes. His voice mellowed to a soothing chant. “Stare at the flame. It is the light of reality. The images around you are mere phantoms. Bring what is real back into focus, or you will not return to the ones you love. Nathan, think of your mother. Listen to her music. It is riding the breeze. She waits for you in the Earth Blue bedroom. You must go back and search for your father. The real Kelly is there as well. We must awaken her from this nightmare, so the two of you can go to Earth Yellow and save two world populations from annihilation.”
The flame's glow spread over Cerulean's face, making his features clearer by the second. He compressed Nathan's chin with his hand, forcing him to keep his stare locked on the flame. “You must let Kelly go, Nathan. She is not real. Night is over, and dawn is breaking.”
“No, Nathan!” Her voice spiked into a wail. “You promised to stay with me. This place is cold and dark, and I'm scared.”
Ever so gently, Cerulean pulled on Nathan's chin, drawing him forward, his voice now hypnotizing. “Release her, Nathan. All will be well. You will see the real Kelly in mere moments. We will awaken her, and she will escape this torture.”
Heaving and
exhaling shallow breaths, Nathan pried Kelly's fingers loose and pulled away.
“Nathan!” she cried. “What are you doing?”
He turned. Kelly, now ghostly and floating backwards, pressed her hands against her cheeks. “I'll be alone again. All alone in this cold, dark place.”
“I … I can't leave her. She's —”
Cerulean twisted him back. His voice sharpened again. “She's … not … real!”
His mind now swimming, Nathan repeated the words in a breathy whisper. “She's not real.”
Cerulean blew out the candle. As the light faded, Kelly's voice faded with it. “I'm so cold … so cold.”
Forbidden Doors
A Four-Volume Series from
Bestselling Author Bill Myers!
Some doors are better left unopened.
Join teenager Rebecca “Becka” Williams, her brother Scott, and her friend Ryan Riordan as they head for mind-bending clashes between the forces of darkness and the kingdom of God.
Echoes from the Edge
A New Trilogy from
Bestselling Author Bryan Davis!
This fast-paced adventure fantasy trilogy starts with murder and leads teenagers Nathan and Kelly out of their once-familiar world as they struggle to find answers to the tragedy. A mysterious mirror with phantom images, a camera that takes pictures of things they can't see, and a violin that unlocks unrecognizable voices … each enigma takes the teens farther into an alternate universe where nothing is as it seems.
Beyond the
Reflection's Edge
Book One
Softcover o ISBN: 978-0-310-71554-2
After sixteen-year-old Nathan Shepherd's parents are murdered during a corporate investigation, he teams up with a friend to solve the case. They discover mirrors that reflect events from the past and future, a camera that photographs people who aren't there, and a violin that echoes unseen voices.
