I nibbled my lip, silently debating, before I sighed in acquiescence. It wouldn’t hurt to accept his advice. What more did I have to lose than I already had?
The remainder of my dream slowly came together piece by piece. It was inspired by the flying horse dream I’d stumbled into as a child and was the first I’d built from scratch rather than using pre-grown details, hoping the extra attention to detail would enhance the dream and make me more likely to win. I’d spent hours finding an assortment of colors and pairing them in unique combinations to create a complete fantasy environment, and the details had come together to form an impressive masterpiece.
I finished stitching the color green detail to the detail of the sky to add a bit of whimsy to the dream and trimmed my thread. “Finished.”
“Finally.” Darius snapped his book shut. “That only took forever.”
“Stop complaining, you could have given your nightmare anytime.” Although I was immensely relieved he hadn’t.
“There’s no thrill in winning unless there’s a dream to beat.” It provided a reason for his help, and although I was relieved for an explanation, I was still left disappointed by it. I scolded myself for my ridiculous feelings.
Our dreams seeped into Maci as we draped them over her. Darius pulled out his weaving mirror while I watched both dreams form halos of light above our Mortal, Darius’s his usual green, mine a swirl of bright tangerine. I shouldn’t be tempted to enter my dream—Darius was only getting more and more suspicious each time he caught me doing so—but this was a recreation of the first dream I’d ever viewed, and I was eager to see how my skills matched the dream I’d seen all those years ago.
Darius propped his mirror on his knee and eyed me warily when I didn’t do the same. “Don’t you want to watch your dream?”
That made my decision. I reluctantly pulled out my own mirror to watch, fervently hoping that this time my dream would be strong enough to give my mortal a pleasant night of sleep, but it wasn’t at all like the one I’d seen all those years ago. I’d tried to make the clouds multiple hues, but they were colorless, their colors instead splashed in random places on the sky. All the other details were rough and choppy. Halfway through I shoved my mirror away, unable to watch anymore. Darius frowned but didn’t comment.
It didn’t take long before Darius’s nightmare ended and dream dust seeped into his already bulging spiderweb-shaped locket. He clicked it shut. “I win again.” But despite having succeeded in obtaining yet another victory, he didn’t look at all happy about it.
I shoved my weaving supplies back into my bag so I could leave as soon as Stardust returned. “I know you’ve won. Big surprise. So much for your assistance.”
He frowned. “It appears this might take some time.” The look he gave me could almost pass for pity. “I know you’re disregarding it on principle, but you might not lose every night if you actually heeded the advice I shared during our first competition.”
I fingered my dream locket, which was becoming lighter with each Weaving—although I always somehow managed to maintain just enough magic. Still, if I didn’t beat Darius soon, I’d have to rely solely on my own minimal powers, which wouldn’t be near enough to create a dream, and then I’d never win.
I searched the sky for Stardust. Where was that slippery cloud? She could investigate for hours without realizing how much time had passed. I teetered in the air as I pulled my legs against myself to wait.
Darius finished packing his bag and glanced down at me, bemused. “Would you like some company?”
Not from him. “Stardust should be here any moment.”
“She probably thought you’d take much longer. You are a creature of habit.” But a frown tugged on his mouth as he stared out the window. I shifted restlessly. Even with her usual dawdling, Stardust didn’t usually take this long.
I fidgeted beneath Darius’s hovering. “Why are you still here?”
He hesitated before settling beside me. I stiffened.
“What are you doing?”
“Tormenting you,” he said, but despite his words, surprising concern lined his voice. He leaned back on his elbows and once more searched outside. “What’s taking Glitter Ball so long? Surely she wouldn’t abandon you.”
My stomach lurched. Stardust hadn’t chosen to vanish like Mother…had she? His ill-chosen words and all the stress from my failed dreams cumulated. I buried my face in my knees.
“Now you’ve done it,” Bolt said.
“Oh Eden, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” He trailed into silence.
I peeked up from my knees at his crimson-filled cheeks. “I’m doing my best.”
He avoided my eyes. “That’s the problem. You’re not that bad of a Weaver. You’re just trying too hard.”
“It’s not my fault you’re impossible to beat. Can’t you let me win, just once?”
“Like that would do you any good,” he said. “Besides, even if I wanted to, I don’t think I’m capable of losing on purpose.”
“Wouldn’t want your ego to suffer.”
Outside the sky grew lighter as night melted into daybreak, but Stardust was still nowhere to be seen. Where was she? Even she must know I couldn’t possibly take this long. Could whatever she was investigating possibly have to do with the tipping balance? Unease seeped over me at the thought.
I glanced sideways at Darius. As the Head Nightmare’s son, did he perhaps know something about the recent Nightmare events that could put my growing fears to rest?
He felt my staring. The corner of his mouth lifted as he met my gaze. “What is it? Do you find me as fascinating as I find you? Or perhaps it’s my good looks that have you so entranced.”
Heat swallowed my cheeks. “No, I—I was just wondering—” I couldn’t finish. His teasing immediately faded, replaced with a rather earnest, almost sweet look.
“What is it, Nemesis?”
I hesitated a moment, unsure how wise it’d be to get the information I sought from a man who was supposed to be my enemy, before my curiosity compelled me to speak. “Do you know anything about the tipping balance?”
He immediately sobered. “Ah.” He readjusted his position to pull his leg up towards his chest. “I don’t know as much as I’d like; the entire Council is trying to keep it hushed so as not to start a panic, and despite my relationship with the Head Nightmare, I’m no exception. But I do know that it’s tipping more than it has in over seven centuries, and not in the Dream Realm’s favor. The dream dust thefts are only one example, a rather large one considering such an event is unprecedented.”
His words did little to combat my unease. I startled when he gave me a gentle, almost friendly nudge with his shoulder.
“Don’t worry. Though the balance has occasionally become unstable, it has never fully tipped. All will be well with your new home.”
My tense shoulders relaxed and I released the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. I offered him a small smile, which he returned. He was being so…sweet, not at all what I’d expected from not only a Nightmare, but my direct competitor.
But I’d no sooner thought this than his expression returned to his usual suspicion. “And now I have a question for you.”
My smile faded as my apprehension returned. “What is it?”
He grew serious. “Why do you often zone out during Weavings?”
I snorted. “Like I’d explain my quirks to you.”
“I figured it wouldn’t be that easy.” Darius fiddled with his bag strap. “I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ve spent hours researching a reason, but I can’t find any plausible explanation. There’s much more to you than I initially suspected.”
“Which is why you don’t trust me.”
He neither confirmed nor denied that statement. “It’s rather unsettling; you look as if you’re staring at something only you can see. You don’t even react when I call your name; it’s as if you’re not even there.”
“You call my name?”
&n
bsp; He glanced sideways at me. “You don’t hear me?”
He was certainly fishing, but I refused to humor him. “Why are you so determined to supposedly help me?” I asked.
He hesitated. “Because I want to. I know that weaving partnerships don’t normally develop into friendships, but…I’m hoping ours will be different.” Despite his words he still seemed uncertain, as if unsure that was what he really wanted.
Surely he wasn’t in earnest, yet the look in his eyes was friendly. Once more I marveled at his change in behavior now that we were alone, as well as—despite the tension of our partnership and how much I pretended otherwise—the fact that I secretly enjoyed being around him.
But surely I shouldn’t feel that way; if I really wanted to be a proper Dreamer, I needed to dislike Darius on principle, not only because he was a Nightmare, but because it was expected not to get along with one’s weaving partner. But I couldn’t help what I felt, feelings I was beginning to fear were becoming dangerous.
Luckily, I was spared working out this puzzle when Stardust finally arrived. She skidded to a stop when she spotted us sitting together.
“What’s going on?” she asked, her shifty gaze narrowed at the space between us, as if measuring it. Too late I shifted over a few inches to create more distance. “What’s Spiderweb still doing here, and why are you sitting with him?”
Darius stood and stretched “No need to sound accusatory. I was merely entertaining your bored owner you abandoned.”
Stardust gasped. “I did not abandon—” But before she could finish, he held up his hand, silencing her.
“I’m afraid I don’t have time to hear your excuses; I need to look into something.”
“A mirror?” Stardust asked dryly.
“No, the dream dust thefts.” Darius’s expression became stony. “There’s been one almost every day around dawn, and the victims are always Dreamers who’ve won the previous Weaving. The Investigations Team has concluded the magic being stolen is the Weaving winner’s earnings.”
Stardust scribbled frantically into her notebook. “This seems to indicate these thefts are a Nightmare’s doing.”
Darius pursed his lips. “That’s the problem.”
I raised my eyebrows at the dark flash in his eyes. “Why do you care? You’re a Nightmare.”
“Nightmare or not, I don’t want the balance to tip,” Darius said. “It’s far too important. We must protect it at all costs.”
I was startled by his passion, but perhaps with what I was coming to learn about him, it wasn’t so surprising after all.
The moment he left, Stardust gave me a rather sulky look. “You know I didn’t abandon you, right? I really did have something important to do.”
“Of course,” I said hurriedly to assure her. I stood and hooked my bag on my shoulder. “Are you going to tell me what you found out?”
Chapter 17
As we soared through the dawn-shrouded sky, Stardust frowned at my dream locket. “You lost again, didn’t you?”
I sighed. “Are you going to torture me with another post-Weaving lecture?”
“Why waste my breath? You never listen.”
“I do listen and can even recite all your main points: create less-complicated dreams, use fewer flowers, practice my stitches.”
“Yet you ignore me because you’re convinced you know better,” she said. “Perhaps I shouldn’t tell you what I discovered during my investigations, considering you don’t value my opinion.”
It’s not as if I hadn’t valued it…I’d just been so determined to prove myself my own way that I hadn’t wanted to listen to anybody—and that pride had only caused me to lose. I sighed. “I’ve admittedly been going about my Weavings the entirely wrong way. I will do my best to better listen in the future. Now will you tell me what you’ve discovered?”
Despite my attempt at humility, she remained silent, which only escalated my curiosity.
“Are you looking for a bribe?” I asked. “Will a bag of moonbits be sufficient?”
Stardust’s lips twitched at the offer and she softened. “After Spiderweb mentioned reading about you in the weaving files, I decided to check them out myself.” She paused mid-flight to pull out a parchment folder. “Not every Dreamer has one, and I wanted to know what information they had about you.”
I eagerly took the folder from her. “How did you get this?”
“That’s not important,” Stardust said, confirming my suspicions that she’d stolen it. “Look at what’s inside.”
The file contained three pieces of parchment. The first was the weaving record Darius had mentioned, which listed the names of the six pairs of Weavers who’d been assigned to me over the years, the length of their assignment—most had only lasted a few nights—and their rank, the last three sets being classified as advanced. Scrawled at the bottom were the words: “Deemed incapable of dreaming; terminate all future assignments,” dated five years ago and signed by both the Head Dreamer and Head Nightmare.
“Darius actually told the truth. I never considered the possibility that I’d ever had any Weavers.”
“I’m not surprised,” Stardust said. “Every Mortal is assigned a Weaving partnership, so you’d have been no exception if the Council believed you to be Mortal. I’m surprised the Council didn’t investigate the reason why you were the only Mortal incapable of dreaming. Look at the next page.”
The second parchment, dated only a few weeks ago, contained a record of my recent activity on Earth—the precise amount of magic detected around me when the dream I’d tried to capture had shattered, the length of time I was in a trance while dream watching, how long I slept, and small interactions between me and the villagers that made it clear I could be seen by them. It was all here, ready to be perused by anyone curious.
“Who recorded all of this?”
Stardust tapped the bottom: Submitted by Nightmare Darius. My fists tightened and crumpled the edges of the file. “Him!” His recent friendliness had made me hope that perhaps he was no longer investigating me, but I’d clearly been mistaken.
“Careful, don’t wrinkle it; we need to leave it exactly the way it was when I borrowed it.” Stardust snatched the file back and smoothed out the crinkled edges. “I hadn’t realized Spiderweb had dug up so much dirt on you. He even included his successful Weaving.”
She pointed to the last item on Darius’s list chronicling my suspicious behavior, which described the nightmare he’d given me in detail and the amount of dream dust it had yielded. “Luckily, he appears to be the only Nightmare investigating you.”
I gritted my teeth to muffle the curses fighting to escape. “One is bad enough.” I reread every bullet point, each worse than the last. Darius had even included the supposedly empty jar he was investigating. Thankfully, he made no mention of my ability to see dreams, or that a broken dream had caused the huge burst of magic he’d detected on Earth. For now those secrets were safe, but for how much longer?
Stardust motioned back to the folder. “Check the last page, it’s the most important.”
This one was also submitted by Darius, but rather than containing his findings and observations, it was a page torn from a book, one sentence underlined: “Although Mortals are incapable of possessing magic, legends hypothesize that a child born from a union between a Weaver and a Mortal could possess unusual powers, though outside of legend, there have been no verified instances of such a feat, due to Mortals’ inability to see Weavers.”
My name was written in all caps at the top of the page, and beneath the legend Darius had scribbled: Half-Mortal, Half-Dreamer? Requires additional research.
I stroked Half-Mortal, Half-Dreamer over and over. “Is this what I am?” I expected to be more affected by this revelation, but I only felt empty.
Stardust eyed my indifferent expression. “Aren’t you surprised?”
“Not really,” I said. “Somehow, I think a part of me already knew.”
“If you examine all the cl
ues surrounding you, his conclusions make sense. I just can’t believe Spiderweb is the one who realized it first.” She pouted.
“He often reads a book of legends while waiting for me to finish weaving; he probably stumbled upon this one by chance and connected the dots.”
Stardust’s pout only deepened. “What bothers me the most about all of this is not the fact that several groups of advanced Weavers couldn’t create a dream for you, but that Spiderweb could. Half-Mortal or not, magical beings of any kind can’t receive dreams. Are you sure it was your dream you saw?”
The memory of every creepy detail from Darius’s nightmare bombarded my mind. I shivered. “Positive.”
Stardust frowned. “I snuck a peek at Spiderweb’s file while borrowing yours. He only graduated from the Academy a few years ago, but already he’s ranked in the top ten percentile of all Weavers. His talent is undeniable, and I suspect he’ll only get better as he gets more practice.”
“Thanks for the great news,” I muttered.
“Still, talented or not, he shouldn’t be able to achieve the impossible by giving you a dream. So how did he manage it? This mystery sure is perplexing.” But rather than seeming daunted by such an unusual case, she only quivered with excitement.
She took flight again, rising higher until we were swallowed by swirls of clouds. We entered the Dream World next to the Rosewood Forest, whose sweet perfume washed over us in the gentle spring breeze. Stardust flew past the path leading to Angel and Iris’s home.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
She paused. “I need to visit the Dream Library to research possibilities for how Spiderweb gave you that nightmare, in addition to reading more about this Half-Mortal, Half-Dreamer legend to see if I can fill in some missing pieces. While I sleuth, you should study. It’s ridiculous how much you’re losing, and your streak is starting to affect more than you; I have a reputation to maintain amongst the other clouds, so I can’t have you continuing to lose Weavings or receive unsolicited help from Nightmares.”
Dreamer (The Dream World Chronicles Book 1) Page 20
