Then We Fly

by Rebecca Salas

  Oran swam down to a dark doorway and stopped, looking back at me for the first time. I couldn’t read his face in the dark. He turned back again and swam into the dark room, cautiously I followed him in. The room was small and dark, but a warm glow issued from the pocket of air above me. I swam up and into the air. Oran was standing on a platform out of the water, he reached his hand out to me, and as I took it, he pulled me up onto the platform with him. Why had I agreed to follow him to this strange secluded place? What was I thinking? The reality was that I hadn’t been thinking, just obsessing about sparkly blonde hair and perfectly toned arms.

  The room’s warm light came from an antique lamp that sat on a small end table in the corner next to a plush couch. Oran pulled a towel off of a pile that sat on another low table next to the edge of the platform and handed it to me. I began drying my hair and clothes and he picked up another towel for himself and began rubbing his hair dry.

  A door at the back of the room opened and through it came a small elderly woman with waist length, pure white hair. Her crinkled eyes smiled as she looked at me, and she turned to Oran.

  “Shame on you Oran. You should have brought her sooner.” She chided him. “I’ve been waiting ages.”

  “Forgive me.” Oran kept up his stiff formality, and she waved her hand at him dismissively, he set the towel down on the couch and sat on it.

  “I guess it’s not entirely your fault.” She turned to face me. “If you weren’t being such a baby you would have come here on your own.”

  “Sorry?” I was confused. She turned back toward Oran.

  “Haven’t you told her anything?” She asked. Oran only shrugged in response, abandoning his formality. He picked up another towel and set it on the back of the couch so he could lean back. “Of course you haven’t, always avoiding anything that might be unpleasant.”

  Oran locked eyes with me, but she walked in front of him, blocking me from his gaze with her small body as she faced him. “It is going to get harder you know. Things are moving again. Things aren’t going to be easy for you for a long time. Depending on how the pieces move…” She paused, and began speaking even more slowly, “they may never get easy for you again, Oran. You had better toughen up. But this isn’t about you.” She turned back to me. “Where to start? My name is Ophelia.” She extended a wrinkled hand toward me and I took it.

  “Hello, Ophelia. My name is Cora.”

  “I know. I know a lot about you Cora Reed. I know why you dream and what you fear, and I know about the wars that rage in your head. I know,” she drew closer and spoke in a hushed tone, “I know what can happen and what will happen.” She let go of my hand and stepped back speaking louder this time. “Unfortunately, what can and what will happen often get themselves mixed up.”

  I looked at Oran trying to decide if the sweet old woman was serious or simply crazy. He looked at her with something that looked like awe on his face, so I could only assume that he took her seriously. I looked back at Ophelia and she was turned to Oran.

  “You can go now. This will work best if she and I have some privacy. Thank you for bringing her.” The wrinkled woman smiled, and Oran rose from the couch. He walked over to her and then leaned down, kissing her in the top of her head.

  “Thank you, Ophelia.” He said, and he turned to me. A hint of a smile passed his lips and he turned away and walked past me, stepping feet first into the water.

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  Chapter Three

  “I really wish you would have come sooner. Things are getting extremely dangerous for you. You need every advantage you can find.” Ophelia paused looking me over from head to toe and then she appeared to stare into the distance behind me, her eyes glazing over. She blinked three times and looked at me again, like she just remembered I was in the room. “I’m sorry I get so focused sometimes. Cora, let’s get you something dry to wear. You won’t be able to focus if you are in a shivering fit.”

  As she said the words, I realized how cold I was. My wet jeans hung heavy on my legs and my t-shirt chilled me at every point of contact. I felt a shiver rising in my stomach.

  “I am a little chilly. I wasn’t planning on diving into the ocean fully clothed.”

  “Of course not, but you should have been able to see it coming. You have neglected your abilities Cora, but we’ll get to that soon enough. Follow me.” The small woman moved slowly as she walked through the door that she had come in by earlier at the back of the room. The back room was a kitchen in an old farmhouse style that was cozy and completely out of place here amid the mermaids and their usual penchant for the ornate and elegant, not to mention the fact that we were underwater. Only the round glass portholes betrayed the fact that we were under water.

  A few of the mer homes I had seen had air filled spaces instead of water, but those had all followed a similar pattern which was nothing like Ophelia’s home. The homes used steam vents from the boiling hot water coming out of cracks in the ocean floor to heat them, and to warm their food. Ophelia had an antique looking gas stove in her kitchen. I wondered if it was just for looks, or if they had somehow rigged it to work down here.

  Through the kitchen I followed her into another room, off to one side. Her bedroom was in the same old farmhouse style as the other rooms. A warm fire crackled in the small stone fireplace across from her bed. I stared at it, amazed, wondering how the room wasn’t filled with smoke. Ophelia saw my stare.

  “It was specially set up for me; the chimney reaches all the way up to the surface, alongside my air vent. It is impressive.” Ophelia answered my unasked question.

  “I haven’t seen anything like it before.”

  “And you won’t see it anywhere else, mine is the only one. It helps me in my work. They pamper me a little bit in here.” Ophelia smiled and opened a closet door disappearing inside. She was back out in a moment carrying a small pile of clothes.

  “I almost forgot about these. This has been a long time coming. I’ve been holding onto them for a while.” She handed me the pile of clothes. “I’ll leave you too it then.” Ophelia left the room shutting the door behind her. I was wet and cold and a little confused, but I decided to go with it.

  In the pile were a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a slouchy cut-off hoody, as well as underwear and a bra, all with the tags on. They all fit perfectly. I walked back out through the kitchen and into the living room and found Ophelia quietly gathering the wet towels into a basket.

  “You look adorable,” She said without looking up.

  “Thanks. They fit perfectly too.”

  “Of course they do.” Ophelia looked up and gestured for me to follow her while she carried the basket back into the kitchen and then opened another door to a small laundry room and she began loading the towels in the wash machine.

  “You have a washer and dryer?” I asked.

  “Of course. How else am I going to wash my laundry? By hand? Not at my age.” She scoffed. Leading me back into the living room, she paused in the kitchen to grab a tray and brought that with her. She set the tray down on the coffee table. On it were two pots and two cups, and some cookies on a plate. Out of one pot she poured a cup and handed it to me, out of the other, she poured something else for herself. I sniffed my cup.

  “Hot cocoa? I love hot cocoa, thank you.”

  “I know,” she smiled. “I made it for you, I prefer tea.” She gestured to her own cup. “Now that we have all of the niceties out of the way, let’s get down to business. Have you sorted this all out yet?” She sipped from her cup and looked at me intently.

  “Are you like me then? You have dreams?” I asked cautiously.

  “I am not exactly like you, but I am similar. Here, I am seen as an oracle. My abilities were once similar to yours. I would dream, strange dreams that made no sense to me. I would wake up in the morning thinking about how silly they were, and then I would forget about them, until years later, when they would happen, and I would remember a vagu
e muddled memory of the dream from years previous. But that was years ago, I have moved beyond that.” She paused again sipping her tea. “Why are you here Cora?” Her brown eyes watched me intently.

  “Oran brought me.”

  “And why did he do that?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know what motivates Oran nowadays.” I stared at my cup.

  “If you can’t see that we have more work than I realized. More likely, you don’t want to see.”

  “There is a lot that I don’t want to see.” I smirked.

  “You are wasting so much energy not seeing, just because you think it’s easier. Blinding yourself is never easier. It doesn’t stop the challenges from coming; it just stops you from being prepared, and ensures that the outcome will be beyond your control.” She looked at me intently. “There are those who have done so much more, with so much less. Don’t waste what you have.” Her words were hard, but her manner was so loving and gentle I couldn’t take offense.

  “I have tried to pay attention lately, but I don’t like what I see.”

  “Then you will simply have to change it.” She smiled.

  “But what I am seeing isn’t going to be easy to change.” I looked down into my cup.

  “If you don’t get more information, it’s going to be impossible to change. And that’s what you are here for, to get more information.” She set down her cup. “Shall we get started?”

  “Sure.” I still wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but more information sounded like a good start.

  “First thing, we need to see where you are. You see things in your dreams. Can you differentiate between an aimless dream and when you are seeing something?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Can you bring others into your dreams?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Can you get into other people’s dreams?”

  “Maybe.” She smiled patiently, but an eyebrow rose.

  “Can you switch between observing and participating in those dreams?”

  “No. Not really.” It wasn’t something I had even considered.

  “Can you influence the dreams?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Can you change the location, change the mood, or affect the feelings and opinions of the other players in your dreams?”

  “I’ve never tried.” I answered honestly.

  “Do you have any feel for the time frame of your dreams? If they are in the past or the future, or how far out they are?”

  “Sometimes, maybe.” I was starting to feel hopeless with how many unsure answers I was giving.

  “Is there anything that you feel you are good at?”

  “Waking up.” I said it as a joke, but she didn’t smile.

  “That is good.” She stared off in the distance through me. The room was quiet for a long moment. Her eyes moved to the ground and back to my face, but she saw me this time.

  “There’s so much, but let’s start at the beginning. I should explain a few things to you, some of it you will never be able to control. The future and the past, they will come when they will, all you can do is be observant, you cannot affect them, you can only observe, and remember, and use what you can. But your ability to affect dreams, of yourself and others, that can be controlled, if you learn how. And you have a lot to learn.”

  “And do you think you can teach me?”

  “Yes, if given enough time. Time will be our only problem.” Her face was serious.

  “Well then, where do we start?”

  “With one more question. Can you get into dreams without falling asleep?”

  “I think I did once.” I thought back to the time I lay stabbed under the water calling out for help.

  “Recently?”

  “No.”

  “Alright. Lie down on the couch and go to sleep. I’ll see you when you get there.” She stood up and moved to the armchair so that I could stretch out. I lay down on the couch wide awake, not a hint of sleep in my mind.

  “Um…” I began after a moment had passed.

  “Did you finish you hot cocoa?” She asked.

  “No.”

  “Sit up and finish it now, and then lay back down, and you shouldn’t have any trouble.” I finished the cocoa quickly and was asleep almost as soon as I lay back down. For a moment my mind wandered in sleep thinking about poisoned hot cocoa.

  I felt a tugging sensation and with it came clarity. I sat on Ophelia’s couch and she was next to me. A vague feeling of confusion settled over me.

  “Let’s start with something basic. I want you to do something impossible.”

  “Wait, what?” I asked.

  “I want you to fly.” She smiled the wrinkles around her eyes deepened.

  “Ok, I should try and get to sleep first. I know I can’t fly when I’m awake.”

  “Cora,” she looked disappointed, “You are asleep.” She let out a little sigh.

  I looked around myself concerned, when had I fallen asleep? I looked at the empty cup of cocoa. I looked back at Ophelia to see her hovering in the air two feet above the couch, her feet crossed at the ankles, her cup of tea in her lap as if she were still sitting there on the couch.

  “Right,” I said. Clearly dreaming. I sat a little taller, stretching myself up to my full height, trying to pull myself off the couch by my head, clenching my buttocks sporadically hoping it might help. I placed my hands on the couch at my sides, pushing up to no avail. I looked up at Ophelia whose head was nearly touching the ceiling as she smiled wider than ever. I felt a touch annoyed. “Any suggestions?”

  “Have you ever flown before? In your dreams,” she clarified.

  “Yes.”

  “Well…” She gestured vaguely in my direction. “Do that.” She continued to smile.

  I stood up and began jumping. The room wasn’t large, but I tried to get a running start. I ran a few steps and jumped up and into the wall. Ophelia remained quiet. I turned to look at her and saw her smiling, wide as ever as she lay on her stomach, floating five feet over the pool of water, propping her head up on her hands, which were held up by nothing at all. I huffed and jumped again. I felt like maybe I had fallen slower than before, my crash was ever so slightly less abrupt than the last time. I tried again, and again, paying more attention to not crashing as I fell.

  I looked over at Ophelia again, she wasn’t hovering anymore, now she simply stood, on the surface of the water. I narrowed my eyes on her as she walked across the water and helped me up off the floor. She was unnaturally strong and as she picked me up. I continued to rise until she held me three inches above the floor. I smiled awkwardly when she abruptly let me go. I didn’t fall an inch. Looking down at the floor I extended my toe. When I touched it the rest of my body followed, and I landed in a heap on the floor. Ophelia shook her head and picked me up again.

  “Now stay there.” She said forcefully. She took a little hop and flew nearly to the ceiling. “now that we have a start, lets switch things up a little.” She furrowed her brow for a minute and I blinked, and we weren’t in her house anymore. We stood miles above the surface of the ocean, billowing clouds surrounding us. I looked down and began to fall, terror building in my stomach. I wanted to scream but could hardly breathe with the wind blowing in my face.

  “No, you don’t,” Ophelia said calmly by my side, “this isn’t that kind of dream.” She took my hand and I was instantly still, no longer falling. “It’s just a dream, you can do anything.”

  The thought left me hopeful and excited. I let go of her hand. Leaning forward and looking down again and I spread my arms out wide. And with a thought I took off, falling a little and then pulling up, soaring back up to meet Ophelia. I reached her and in a blink we were sitting on her couch again.

  “You need to practice doing impossible things,” She said. “It’s important; it will help you differentiate between dreams and reality.” She turned her head to the side like she was listening to someone I couldn’t see. “For now, you
need to be going. For your first chore, practice changing the path of your dreams, make impossible things happen, give yourself magical powers, make yourself fly, and pay attention, be observant. You’ve closed your eyes to far too much.”

  I opened my eyes to a cold hand on my arm. I was lying on the couch in Ophelia’s living room and she was leaning over me.

  “Good, good.” She smiled. “Now change back into your other clothes. They’re in the dryer. Leave these here for next time. I have some business to attend to, I’m sure you can see yourself out.” With that she patted me on the top of my head and walked through the back door into the kitchen. When I walked back into the kitchen to get my change of clothes, Ophelia was nowhere to be seen.

  When I arrived back on the surface, the sky was brighter than I had expected. Hadn’t it been dark I went down to her home? Walking through the castle I could smell pancakes cooking and I realized the truth. I had been there all night. And now I was starving. I had barely sat down with more pancakes than I could possibly eat when Fynn rushed to my side.

  “Good morning.” I smiled, completely forgetting our argument from the day before.

  “I look away for ten minutes and you disappear.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes.

  “Breaking into my room again?”

  “I needed to talk to you. What happened?” Fynn’s eyebrows drew together as he tapped his fingers impatiently on the table.

  “Last night I went to dinner with Shea and Zoya, and they seemed like they could use a little alone time, so when Oran asked me to go with him I did, and then, well the rest is a little hard to explain.” I looked up and saw Fynn’s eyes were wide. “Oh, no, so Oran took me to see a woman to help me with some problems.” I spoke the sentence in a rush, not wanting Fynn to get the wrong impression. “Actually, he left me there and I spent the night at Ophelia’s. Which was a little unexpected.”