by Raven Dark
“What’s happening to me?” I squeaked. My eyes stung. It was the dream, my mind answered mercilessly. It was the dream, I know it.
“Doc, what’s wrong with her?” Pretty Boy demanded from beside Sheriff. “Is she going to be okay? And did I hear someone say ‘seizure’? What would make her seize?”
“Pretty Boy, calm down,” Doc said over his shoulder. “Let me examine her.” He flashed his biolight again, looking into each of my eyes, checking my head for injuries, feeling my pulse.
“All right.” Sheriff looked around at the group. “Pretty Boy, Steel, you two can stay. Everyone else, out. Give Doc space to work.”
T-Man and Crash left, and behind them, Emmy and Diamond, who I hadn’t even noticed before, followed, expressions of concern on their faces as they departed.
“There’s no sign of head injury, General,” Doc said, but his voice sounded confused. “Except for the bleeding and an elevated pulse rate—which is probably just a reaction to her fear—I don’t see anything wrong.”
Doc focused on me.
“Were you having a nightmare again, Setora?”
“I’m sorry, what, sir?” Nothing seemed to be sinking in. My head pounded.
“Hawk told me about your nightmares. Were you having another one just now?”
Images flashed through my mind, but the nightmare was already fading. Except for one thing, the faceless man in white with the lyrical voice. That beautiful, angelic, terrible voice.
I shuddered.
“Yes, sir. It was a nightmare.” I glanced at all of them. “I’m so sorry I woke all of you up.”
Doc waved his hand, deflecting my apology. “Do you remember what it was about?”
I blinked, trying to clear the confused fog. I latched onto the fear that floated just beneath the surface, allowing it to give me clarity. “He was in my head.”
“He who?” Steel asked.
I blinked again. “What?” It dawned on me slowly, there was something I needed to tell them. Something they needed to know. But the memory wouldn’t form, and I shook my head.
“He did this. Somehow.”
Doc looked over his shoulder. “Pretty Boy, where’s Hawk?”
“He’s on watch, doing rounds out there.”
“Get him. Now.”
But Pretty Boy was already headed for the cave entrance, out into the still pouring rain. Outside the cave, it was dark, but not the black of night. The storm made it impossible to tell what time it was.
“What you’re saying doesn’t make any sense, Setora.” Sheriff’s voice was gruff. “Who is this person? What did he do to you?”
I couldn’t read the anger in his voice. It could have been protectiveness or accusation.
Self-consciousness and a fresh wave of fear filled me. Something was terribly wrong with me. Something that would make these men not want me.
“Doc.” Pretty Boy touched his shoulder.
Doc turned, nodding to Hawk, who strode across the cave from behind him.
Hawk’s amber eyes zeroed in on me. On the blood Doc was wiping from my nose and ears with a wet cloth. Though his face retained that stoic, unreadable look, I could feel his worry, see it in the tension in his body, the way fine lines crinkled at the edges of his eyes and around his mouth.
“Hawk,” Doc said, “she had another one. Like the dream you told us about.
Hawk nodded and scooped me up in his arms. He laid me on the bed of furs and Steel moved in behind, resting my head on his knees. His fingers stroked my forehead.
“Doc, would you grab my medicine bag?” Hawk nodded to a backpack against one wall. “I’d like Doc and Steel to stay.” He looked back at the others.
“All right.” Sheriff ran his palm down his face. “Looks like we’re staying the night. The fucking rain’s destroyed the roads. No one’s going out in this storm.” He clapped Pretty Boy on the back. “Pretty Boy, let’s go sit with the others. Hawk’s got this.”
Pretty Boy glanced at me, about to open his mouth to speak.
“She’s fine now, Pretty Boy. We’ve got her.” Hawk’s voice was tender and patient.
Pretty Boy reluctantly let Sheriff lead him out of the cave.
I hadn’t noticed that Doc had left my side until he walked back with a medicine bag from Hawk’s pack and handed it to him, kneeling at my shoulder again.
Hawk opened the pouch, a small brown leather bag with a drawstring, and took out a tiny tea bag filled with red and black flecks.
“I should have pushed you to do the exercises before, but I thought you were too tired.” He stroked my hair, brushing it back from my face.
“It’s not your fault, Master.”
His mouth turned down like he didn’t agree. “It’s going to be okay, Setora. We may not know what’s going on now, but we’ll figure it out.”
I nodded, taking strength from his words.
Hawk held up the miniature tea bag for me to see. “This will keep the dreams away until we can deal with them.”
“Yes, Master.”
No dreams. Relief flooded me.
Hawk handed Doc the miniature tea bag. Doc nodded and went to the fire to prepare the tea.
Hawk straightened my legs so that they laid flat, then did the same with my arms, running soothing palms along them and down the rest of my body. I felt myself sinking into the blankets, growing sleepier with his touch.
“You comfortable, Petal?” Steel rumbled above me. His fingers still made slow, relaxing lines across my forehead.
“I am, Master.”
“We’re gonna get you all better, Petal.”
What had I ever done to deserve these men, this family?
Doc returned with the mug of steaming tea. Hawk took it, closing my hands around the metal. The warmth seeped into my palms, driving away the lingering chill of fear. The tea smelled faintly of some kind of spice and honey.
“The medicine won’t fix what’s happening to you, Kitten, but it will allow you to rest.”
I nodded and drank the tea slowly. Bitterness mixed with the pleasant taste of honey. I shuddered at the taste. Without the honey, it would probably have been intolerable.
“The drug is only a suppressant, not a cure,” Hawk added, “which means we will still have to deal with the nightmares. But that will come later.”
I swallowed hard, pushing down the icy bolt of panic and hid whatever showed on my face by drinking down the rest of the tea. “When, Master?”
“Tomorrow.” Hawk laid his hand on my forehead. “When you’re rested.”
I was already starting to feel drowsy, the tea evidently taking effect.
“Sleep now, Kitten. Steel and I will stay with you. No one will hurt you here.”
I closed my eyes, and felt Steel lay down beside me, folding me in the comfort of his arms.
If only I could have slept like this forever. If the Maker had chosen to send a lightning bolt through the roof of the cave to smite me then and there, I wouldn’t have complained. Anything to avoid dealing with the faceless man who haunted my thoughts.
Chapter 12
A Fortress Within
Men’s voices and pale morning light pulled me from a deep sleep.
I blinked open my eyes. I was lying on my side, warm furs surrounding me. No one held me like most times when I woke up, so I turned over and looked at the blankets beside me where Steel had been the night before.
The blankets were empty.
“Steel?” I glanced around until I saw Crash sitting by the fire a few feet away. He sat alone, stoking the dying flames.
“Morning, sunshine. Steel’s outside doing his exercises. And grumbling as usual.”
I smiled at the thought and pushed the blankets off, pulling on my pants and frock. “I have to relieve myself, sir.”
It felt odd calling him sir, the same as it would have been calling Cherry Mistress all the time, something I’d stopped doing after the first week of knowing her.
He nodded and stood, slipp
ing my leash around his wrist. “Yep, come on.”
Outside the cave, there was a second fire going with a pot hanging over it and large pan on a grill laid across it. Fish fried merrily in the pan, and the smell of fish stew with spices filled the air, making my stomach rumble.
Sheriff and Doc sat on logs by the campfire, Doc rolling bandages and restocking his medical kit while he and the General talked.
About twenty feet away, Steel was stripped to his waist, pulling himself up into chin-ups on the thick branch of a tree. At the river, a little downstream, I could see Hawk and Pretty Boy standing in the water almost up to their knees, but I couldn’t tell what they were doing from here. They had their leather pants rolled up above their knees, and both men were shirtless, giving me glorious views of rippling muscles and tattoos. I didn’t see T-Man, but I guessed he was doing security rounds. He seemed to like to take long walks around the grounds by himself, puffing his pipe.
By the position of the weak sun in the soft-grey sky, I guessed it was early morning, eight or so.
“How long have I been asleep?” I asked Crash. “I’m starving.”
He led me over to a copse of trees and I did my business, he with his back turned. “You were out for over twelve hours. Dead to the world. Are you feeling better? You gave us a hell of a scare last night.”
More than twelve hours. Hawk must have given me a doozy of a drug.
When I was finished and ready, I answered him. “I feel fine, but drained.”
Crash nodded, then turned, shouting, “Pretty Boy! Hurry it up, gorgeous, everyone’s hungry!”
“Hey! Pipe down!” But I could hear his smile. “Hawk and I are the ones catching breakfast. You want it to go faster, get your ass over here and help.”
Crash shook his head, raking his hand through his hair. It was a measure of how long we’d been away from the relaxed atmosphere of the Grotto that his once almost shaved head now sported full, thick black hair, almost as dark as Hawk’s but cut close to the scalp.
“I could wring Pretty Boy’s neck,” he said. “For the last hour and a half, he’s been over there fishing. He keeps throwing back the little ones, insisting that we have only the nicest, most perfect fish.”
I chuckled. With Pretty Boy, everything had to be perfect and beautiful, a glorious show.
We stopped at the fire, and Doc looked up at me, closing his kit. “Oh, good, you’re awake. Sit yourself down here, Setora, and let me have a look at you.”
I sat down beside Doc on the log, and he looked me over, checking my pulse and listening to my heart, checking my forehead for a fever with the back of his hand.
“Any nausea or stomach upset? Dizziness?”
“No, sir.”
“Good. When Hawk gets back, you’re good to go. Everyone can eat, and then he can do those exercises with you.”
Meditation. My stomach clenched. The dreams. I had to deal with this mess sooner or later.
After Hawk and Pretty Boy returned, we had a quick breakfast. Steel glowered at the bowl of mushy fish stew I gave him, but gobbled the food down in several bites. Everyone else, including myself, feasted on peppered and salted fish fried with butter.
I got up to clean the dishes, but Sheriff stopped me, nodding to the Captain of the Guard. “Diamond, Emmy, clean up. Setora, go with Hawk. We need to be on the road soon.”
Hawk took my leash from Crash and slipped it around his wrist, winding up the slack. I followed him, wishing I could stop the butterflies in my belly.
We found a large rock not too far down the river, still in view of the group, but far enough away that the laughing and banter of the others weren’t disruptive. Hawk guided me over to the rock and sat cross-legged on it, instructing me to do the same.
“What I’m about to teach you is a practice the Yantu have implemented for over two hundred years. It’s simple in concept, but hard to master. You need no special abilities or skills for this, but you do need to focus.”
First, while we sat in the same meditative position we had used the day he and Pretty Boy fought, Hawk showed me how to breathe. Slow breaths, in and out, relaxing every part of my body. However worried I’d been about going through meditation with him, thus far, it was turning out to be a pleasant experience, cleansing and peaceful.
With my eyes kept closed, he had me focus only on his voice.
“Now that you are completely relaxed, I want you to think of a word,” Hawk said evenly. “The first word that comes to mind when you think of how relaxed you are.”
“Rain,” I said without having to think.
“Good. Now slowly open your eyes.”
When I did, he inclined his head.
“From now on, when we do these exercises, when you or I say the word rain, your body will immediately start to go into that same relaxed state.”
“Sounds easy enough.” It almost sounded too easy.
“So, now let’s talk about the dreams you’ve been having. First thing. You mentioned the garden as the place where these dreams always start. This is the place you feel safe. Tell me everything you can about the garden.”
I drew a deep breath. The hard part had to happen sooner or later.
I told Hawk about the garden, the bench I always sat on, the fountain with the stone woman, the sky always starting out that perfect blue, the meadow with the rainbow of flowers. He had me describe the smells, and I detailed the smell of cut grass, and the scent of horse that sometimes intermingled with it. The fragrance of the flowers. He nodded as I spoke, asking guiding questions when necessary.
When I finished, he remained silent, deep in thought.
“Have you heard of anyone having a dream like that?” I asked. “A recurring dream about a garden?”
“Not that, specifically, no. But I think I know what it is.”
“What is it?”
A slight smile touched his lips. I thought I saw respect in his eyes. “It’s your Fortress.”
“My what, Master?”
He picked up a small pebble beside him on the rock and drew a slow circle in front of him on the surface of the rock. “The Yantu have a technique they use to shut out emotions when in battle, or when facing anything that requires total focus. A man constructs a walled structure in his mind, one that locks out all emotions. Nothing and no one he wishes to keep out may enter while the structure is in place. The Yantu call the structure a Fortress. The garden in your dream is your safe haven. Your Fortress.”
I tried to process the implications of what he was saying, but it almost seemed too big to fit in my head. The concept of the Fortress sounded intriguing, but I wasn’t a Yantu.
“So, the garden is a thing I made? I created it?”
“Yes. If you think about it, it’s rather remarkable. You’ve done something by instinct that Yantu often must train for years to even come close to creating.”
I frowned.
“This is not a bad thing, Kitten.” He touched my knee with his fingertips. “It’ll make it easier to help you learn to protect yourself from the dreams. I only have to teach you to use it properly.”
That was all well and good, but my mind whirled with a question. If the garden was a safe place that I made, why or how was someone getting into that space?
“What is it?” Hawk asked softly when I didn’t speak for a while.
I opened my mouth to reply but didn’t get the chance to speak.
“Sorry, you two,” Sheriff called over from the campfire. “Come on, it’s time to get going, you’ll have to finish up later.”
I couldn’t decide if having to stop was a good thing or not.
“Don’t worry, Kitten, we’ll talk more about this in the next couple of days. I want you to understand all you can before we go into the Don-shi for the first time.”
“The what?”
“Don-shi. It’s the Yantu word for the meditative state. It means The Tranquil Mind.”
We would only be talking. He made it so easy to trust him. I loved that h
e was taking this slow, but what would happen when the meditation started?
Over the next two days, traveling came easily with little to interrupt our journey. We stopped for food or supplies, to fuel up at stations, and for T-Man to do the occasional repairs. The trip was uneventful, but we were working the bikes hard, going for eight hour stretches, sleeping less between stops.
Steel recovered at a surprising rate. By the second day after leaving the river, Doc allowed him to eat the same food as everyone else. No more ‘vile’ protein drinks.
The weather stayed pleasant and cool, the nights quiet and peaceful. We camped out in the open around the fire, in secluded, hard to reach areas. Sheriff and Doc camped in tents, since they were the only two who hadn’t lost theirs in the Dreg attack.
Every chance he got, Hawk pulled me aside, and we talked more about meditation, until he began taking me through the exercise itself.
Entering what he called Don-shi was easy; the more I practiced with him, the easier it became. He let me do the exercises on my own, so that by the second afternoon, while the crew stopped at another fueling station and I used the hour to meditate, it felt almost natural.
It seemed to be working, too. I hadn’t had a nightmare since the storm at South End. My sleep was restful and without dreams for the first time in what felt like months.
Until they weren’t.
One night after leaving South End, I woke up screaming and convulsing just like last time. Doc and Hawk rushed into the tent I shared with Sheriff, and Hawk pulled me to him, rocking me until I calmed down.
When my breathing turned even, Hawk released me to make a relaxing tea and Sheriff pulled me into his lap.
“Come here, sweetheart. Put your arms around me.”
I didn’t even hesitate. My arms slid around him of their own accord. He crushed me to him, all warmth and protection. He was like a different man, the ruthless pirate nowhere to be seen.
“This has to stop now.” He looked at Doc beside him who was already checking my vitals, and then Hawk who squatted by the fire outside the tent, stirring tea. “One of you, give her something to make it stop.”
