Dreamer (The Dream World Chronicles Book 1)

by Camille Peters

  “Sorry?”

  “Moonbits: fruity cream puffs shaped like miniature crescent moons that come in gazillions of flavors and drip with frosting. If you’re all out of those, I could go for some cotton floss, an asteroid sucker, or even some nebula cream.”

  I stared blankly at her. She sighed.

  “Do you have any sweets at all?”

  “Mother’s all about fresh produce from our garden.”

  Stardust grimaced. “Never mind, I’ll get some myself. It’s just as well; I need to fly to the library and gather more information.” She drifted towards the window.

  “You’re not going to tell anyone about me, are you?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. The last thing I want is the Dream Council—or worse, the Nightmare Council—poking their noses in my case.” Her eyes glistened. “This is exactly the type of mystery I’ve been searching for. There are so many layers to uncover and puzzles to be solved—who and what you are, why you can see dreams, and how you’re able to capture them.” She picked up my jar and examined it. “Now I understand why this is pulsing with magic—this must contain a dream.”

  “The first and only one I’ve managed to bottle.”

  “Interesting. I didn’t know dreams could be captured; it’s another riddle to solve.” She set it down carefully. “I’m off to research these latest findings, but I’ll return by—” She squinted at something outside the window, morphed into a pillow with a gasp, and plopped onto my bed. “Quick, act natural.”

  I grabbed my journal and pretended to read it. After a moment I peered above the pages for any sign of what had caused Stardust’s alarm. All was quiet, and yet…

  Familiar prickles coated the back of my neck, the sense of someone’s sharp gaze monitoring my every move, similar to the feeling I’d experienced earlier when I’d spotted the pair of eyes spying on me from the forest. I shivered and sank deeper beneath the covers.

  “Your book is upside down,” Stardust whispered.

  “Someone is watching me.”

  “That’s why I’m hiding. Keep quiet and don’t—where are you going?”

  I strode to the window, but all I could see was my pale reflection illuminated by the light from my dripping candle. I peered outside; the garden was abandoned.

  “No one’s there.”

  Stardust morphed back into her cloud shape. “It must have left.”

  It? “What did you see?”

  “Maybe I imagined it, but for a moment I thought I spotted a Nightmare.”

  I shivered. “Why was a Nightmare outside my window?”

  “If it’s the same Nightmare whose dream dust we found earlier, it means he’s probably been watching you. I really need to go to the library for some additional investigating. I’ll return at dawn with my findings.” She morphed into vapor, slipped through the sealed window, and just like that she was gone.

  Everything took on an eerie feeling in the silent emptiness following Stardust’s sudden departure. Although the room appeared abandoned, my neck still tingled with the sensation of being watched, but I found nothing unusual when I searched outside again. It was probably my imagination, but I still double-checked that the window was locked before crawling into my bed of pillows and blankets and blowing out the candle.

  Another sleepless night lay ahead. Shadows slunk across the wood-paneled ceiling like overgrown ivy and twisted around the beams in a spooky dance, as if the darkness was alive. I squeezed my eyes shut and willed sleep, an elusive stranger, to visit, but instead my blankets quickly tangled as I tossed and turned.

  I peeked one eye open to stare at the clock face illuminated by the moonlight tumbling through my window. Only an hour had ticked away. I sighed and tried to count sheep, but I gave up upon reaching seven hundred twenty-one. I squinted through the darkness at the time; only fifteen minutes had inched passed. Above me, the shadows shifted, swaying back and forth hypnotically. I stared, transfixed, as they stretched lazily and crawled down the walls, as if they were drowsy, too. My eyes drooped with each shadowy fluctuation. I yawned and rolled over before my eyes finally slid shut.

  Something sticky tickled my cheek. I brushed it away and it attached to my hand. A long thread caressed my arm at the same moment another coiled around my ankles. I tried to rub both away but I couldn’t move, having become stuck in the sticky thread.

  My eyes shot open.

  Webs cloaked the room, forming a transparent curtain across my window and dangling from the beams, while others stretched from the ceiling to the floor like columns…and more were constructing. I gasped and tried to sit up, but a web had twisted around my shoulders, fusing me to my pillows. More webs crawled up my back and wove around my legs, immobilizing me further. The shadows above me sprang to life and shattered into hundreds of tiny specks, each scurrying with eight tiny legs. My heart jolted.

  Spiders. They crawled with expert ease across the webs while dozens of others daintily created new, carefully woven designs of horror. Spiders descended from the walls to form a black cloud creeping across the spider-carpeted floor, while others hung lazily above me, lowering themselves closer and closer. Tiny legs tickled my toes, crawled up my thighs, and scurried across my midriff; spiders nestled in my hair, others investigated my ears. I twisted and squirmed, but like a trapped fly I couldn’t break free, and save for a slight helpless whimper from my sticky throat, I couldn’t even scream.

  A soft chuckle pierced the deafening pattering of countless spider legs, and that’s when I spotted him: a young man sitting cross-legged in the air. He appeared and disappeared in a single flicker, and when he did, the spider-infested room instantly disappeared, revealing my bedroom as it’d been before I’d closed my eyes and lessening the horrible sensation of the army of spiders invading every surface of my body.

  I squinted in the strange boy’s direction and he slowly reappeared, floating in the air. I couldn’t discern any part of his face except for a cocky grin flashing in the moonlight. He worked expertly with a needle and thread as he wove strange dark plants together, the glowing green stitches faintly illuminating the black spiderweb tattoo snaking his wrist.

  The young man paused and reached into the bag slung over his shoulder to pull out another plant, which he stitched into his makeshift quilt. Immediately, he and my bedroom vanished and I was once again trapped in my webbed prison. All at once, as if their torture were rehearsed, the spiders slowly enlarged. I squirmed as the heavy, furry spiders investigated my body, their sharp legs pressing into my skin as they explored.

  The man reappeared in the corner, flickering in and out of focus. My gaze riveted to him, my only life preserver midst the horrible waves of this swarming spider sea. He seemed so solid and clear, especially compared to the fuzziness that hovered across my senses when the spiders appeared, as if I were watching everything through a rain-splotched windowpane.

  Gradually, the pieces fell into place—spooky and surreal surroundings, fuzzy details, and a floating boy sewing a quilt in the corner, stitch by stitch, as if he were creating something…this was a nightmare.

  At this realization I jerked upright. Instantly, the spiders and their webs disappeared. A dream, only a dream. I struck a match to light my candle before sinking against the pillows and waiting for my pounding heart to settle.

  My entire life I'd wanted nothing more than to experience a dream, but not one like that; it had felt so terrifying and real, far more so than merely viewing another’s faded one. Even though I was now awake, its memory shrouded me like the shadows swaying with each flicker of the candle. I could still feel the spiders’ sticky webs immobilizing me, their legs prickling my skin. I rubbed my arms to wash the feeling away. And there had been that peculiar young man…

  I gasped and scooted back, slamming my back against the wall. He still floated in the air, watching me.

  My scream caught in my throat as icy fear curled up my spine. The young man made no acknowledgement of my noticing him. He turned towards the window as
if to leave, but paused when he spotted my dream jar resting on the shelf where Stardust had left it. Puzzlement tugged at his mouth as he stared at it. He held his hand over the jar, as if feeling for something, and his eyebrows creased. Then in one swift move he pocketed it.

  My body tightened, ready to spring from bed in order to snatch my dream from his thieving hands. “Give that back!”

  He spun around, green eyes wide as they locked with mine. For one moment we stared at one another, during which a strange sensation overcame me, as if a thread was weaving between me and this strange man.

  I heard his breath catch, as if he sensed this too. He advanced a hesitant step in the air and I immediately shrank back.

  “Please, don’t come any closer.”

  He paused, a puzzled frown tugging on his mouth. He didn’t move…nor did he make any motion to leave. He simply stared, the feeling between us intensifying the longer he did so. Tingles pinpricked my flesh and blood pounded in my ears. This couldn’t be real, but how could I tell? When did dreams end? I squeezed my eyes shut. Wake up, wake up, wake up.

  I peeked one eye open. He’d advanced closer and was now only a few feet away, close enough for me to see the black spiderweb tattoo that stretched from his right eye and twisted towards his ear. I pressed myself so hard against the wall the wood scratched my back.

  He paused, head tilted, eyes full of questions. “Can you see me?”

  I finally found my voice and screamed. He stumbled backwards, clutching one of the ceiling beams to keep from losing his balance in the air.

  “Impossible,” he murmured.

  I screamed again. The sweet relief of Mother’s hurried footsteps echoed through the loft and the orange glow from her candle slipped through the cracks in the trapdoor to fill the room with faint candlelight.

  “What’s wrong?” Mother’s voice, fraught with panic.

  “Someone—in my room—”

  He instantly disappeared with a sizzling crack, just as Mother poked her head into the loft. Her candle chased away the remaining shadows, and in the shuddering pale light, all traces of spiders, webs, and floating intruders vanished.

  Mother sat on the edge of my bed and I immediately folded myself in her arms, shaking. She stiffened at first before gently stroking my hair. “What happened?”

  The nightmare hovered over my senses, distorting what was and wasn’t real. I could still feel the prickling spiders’ legs, their sticky webs immobilizing me, but that stranger… “In my room. Watching me. He—” I clung to her more tightly.

  “Where was he?”

  I shakily pointed to the ceiling corner. “Up there. He was—” I wasn’t exactly sure what he’d been doing. He’d appeared to be sewing strange shadowy plants together into some sort of quilt, which had manipulated my dream as I’d experienced it. Was he one of the dream creators Stardust had mentioned?

  Mother caressed my brow with surprising tenderness. “It was just a nightmare, Eden.”

  Then how could I have seen that boy even after the nightmare ended? And if he hadn’t been part of my nightmare, what would keep him from returning? My closed window had done nothing to bar his entrance.

  I shivered. “But he was so real…”

  “I know dreams often seem real, but surely you’re old enough to tell the difference between them and reality?”

  I shook my head. Mother couldn’t understand the significance of my finally experiencing my first dream. “You don’t understand, he had to have been real. I’ve told you before I can’t dream.”

  She pursed her lips to suppress a sigh. “We’ve been over this. It’s impossible not to dream; you just don’t remember them.”

  “You don’t dream either.” The words escaped before I could stop them. Mother stiffened and her hand froze against my hair mid-stroke. For a moment she didn’t speak before she hooked her finger beneath my chin and raised my gaze to meet hers, the motherly concern that had previously filled her eyes transformed into suspicion.

  “Everybody dreams.”

  I remained silent. I’d kept my secret dream-watching ability from Mother too long to ruin it now.

  Eyes bright, Mother pulled away and marched to the corner I’d pointed to. There she immediately disregarded the floor and looked up at the ceiling, studying it with as much concentration as Stardust searching for clues before striding towards the window to peer out and search the sky.

  My heart hammered as I watched her, unsure what to make of her actions. For one who’d always abhorred magic, she seemed to suspect the intruder had possessed some and seemed eager to uncover it, confirming she was likely part of the world where the intruder had come from.

  After a few more minutes of a half-hearted examination of the floor she straightened. “There’s nothing. It must have only been a nightmare.“ She kissed my forehead, something she hadn’t done since I was a child. “I hope you have a more restful night. See you in the morning.”

  Had it really only been a nightmare? There was one way to know for certain. I waited until Mother descended the ladder before I pattered to my shelf, already knowing what I would find.

  It was empty, my bottled dream snatched away in the night, which meant that the intruder had been no dream, but instead very real.

  Chapter 6

  The haunting memory of my nightmare and the stranger’s presence in my room made sleep impossible. The night stretched endlessly before dawn finally penetrated the horizon to dispel the unsettling darkness. At the first hint of light I groggily climbed from bed and snuck outside, relieved to escape my shadowy room into the bright morning sunshine, which bathed the trees and fields surrounding our cottage in an almost eerie glow that did little to dissipate the chilling memories from last night.

  In my peripheral vision, I suddenly caught sight of a floating nightmare, still plump and vivid, a murky green color that was almost sinister. With horror I realized it was mine. I hastily yanked my gaze away; I never wanted to relive such a unsettling vision ever again.

  I fought to ignore the trailing dream as I headed for the village, a trek which felt longer when within every shadow I thought I saw the green eyes of that mysterious young man who’d given me my first nightmare, watching me. I hastily tore my gaze away from the trees with a shiver and pulled my shawl more tightly around my shoulders. The dreams that awaited me in the village would be a welcome respite after the lingering nightmare; I could still feel hundreds of spiders crawling over me and the sticky webs of their cobweb prison.

  I arrived at my dream-watching tree just as dawn fully broke across the sky in hues of rose and gold. Up in my usual perch I crept further along the low-hanging bough to peer down to the village below. After my experiences the night before I hadn’t planned on capturing another dream, yet that promise evaporated at seeing them now, cheerful lights glistening against the grey morning light.

  Only a few villagers were awake at this hour, leaving very few dreams to choose from, but several floated below my perch, their cheery glow beckoning me to explore.

  I dipped my pinky into my apron pocket to touch the rosy dream dust I’d acquired yesterday, which, after much more tedious questioning, Stardust had finally returned to me. As before, it immediately lent strength to my magic so I could push it towards the closest dream—an orange orb that resembled a lantern flame against the faint morning light. The magic cradled it before capturing a snippet, causing the rest to flicker away.

  My excitement swelled as I pressed it inside the jar and lifted it to peer inside. A cheerful, color-changing hearth flickered within, each cheerful pop of the embers emanating a trill of music. So lovely, and the perfect respite after last night’s eerie nightmare. With a cheerful hum, I carefully tucked it safely away into my pocket and climbed down from the tree in preparation to return home, where I hoped Stardust would be waiting.

  “What were you doing up there?”

  I startled at the deep voice and spun around to come face to face with the young man who’d invaded m
y room last night, the one whose memory haunted me as much as the spider nightmare he’d tormented me with. I stumbled back and pressed myself against the trunk. “You!”

  He frowned. “So you can see me after all. I admit I wasn’t entirely convinced it was possible.”

  And apparently he hadn’t been a horrible figment of my own imagination. What did he want from me?

  For a tense moment we stared at one another, continuing where we’d left off the evening before, as if an entire night and morning hadn’t interrupted us. The sunlight illuminated the spiderweb tattoos branding his skin; spiderwebs snaked each wrist and two crawled across his face—one twisting away from his right eye, another stretching across the left side of his neck to curl behind it and out of sight. Silver spiderwebs also patterned his dark clothes, resembling the cobwebs that had draped my nightmare.

  But it was his eyes that held me captive: emerald green, the same that had been watching me from the forest. A strange feeling passed between us, tugging me closer to him even though I didn’t move an inch. For the first time in my life I felt as if I belonged somewhere, as if everything up until now had led to this meeting.

  Despite his unsettling style, he was still quite handsome, but his looks weren’t the reason for the pull that existed between us, tempting me closer…a sensation that frightened me. I needed to leave. Now. But I found I couldn’t move.

  His breath hooked and his mesmerizing eyes slowly widened. “No…it can’t be you.”

  He continued to stare before groaning and burrowing his fingers in his upright olive-green hair, which stood on end as if he’d been struck by lightning. “No, it’s not possible.”

  He turned away as if looking at me was physically painful, before suddenly swiveling back around to resume his staring, as if some greater force made it impossible for him to look away. Confusion puckered his brow even as his gaze raked over me almost hungrily. Slowly his expression brightened.

  “It is you. I can’t believe it.”

  The feeling between us intensified—a strange sense of familiarity, even though I was quite certain we’d never met before. My brow furrowed. “Do you know me?”