The Champion

by H. P. Mallory

  “Well, we’ve picked a time which corresponds to the middle of the night for him,” Mathilda responded. “And if he’s not dreaming, then nothing will happen, and we try another time.”

  “Okay.” The words seemed to calm her.

  “Right. We’re ready to go,” announced Mercedes.

  She handed both Chevalier and Bryn a cup of specially concocted dream wine. You could say what you liked about the Prophetess, but there was no doubt that she knew what she was doing when it came to potions.

  Bryn’s eyes sought me out. She held out her hand to me, and I took it and settled on the edge of the bed. It was unlike her to exhibit a public display of affection, especially in front of the frog. Either she was scared witless or the pregnancy hormones were making her go soft.

  She downed the concoction, and I took the glass from her. In a few more minutes, I could see her eyelids growing heavy. Chevalier’s had closed already. The drink was designed to transport them rapidly to the REM stage of sleep, where dreams occur. I felt uncomfortably helpless as I watched my beloved yield to the magical potion. I dearly wanted to follow her, to ensure her safety, but I could not.

  As the sleepers’ eyes began to show the tell-tale signs of REM sleep, I could only comfort myself with the knowledge that my mate was one of the most formidable warriors I had ever met.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Bryn

  The first thing I saw, in the realm of dreams, was the now familiar flame that I’d come to expect. This had nothing to do with the Flame that lived inside me—that faery force of nature that only revealed itself once in every few generations. It was, instead, a physical touchstone. If Dureau and I wanted out of the dream, it would be vital for us to locate the flame because it represented the passageway home.

  “Can you remember where it is?” he asked me.

  “Yes,” I said, taking in my surroundings and committing any landmarks to memory.

  “Good. In case we get separated.”

  We were still holding hands, as we had been in the real world. I gripped his more tightly.

  “Let’s try not to get separated,” I said.

  “Agreed.” He smiled at me, and I noticed something strange. Dureau seemed more together, more “with it”, than he’d seemed in the real world for a long time. It seemed like he was fully present for a change.

  I didn’t know what to make of that, but it worried me. We needed to break this curse and we needed to break it soon.

  We moved out of the deep, dark forest where all these dream escapades usually began. Did the forest represent the subconscious mind, I wondered? Maybe so. We stepped away from the line of trees and into what could only be described as a swamp.

  “I know this place,” said Dureau. “We’re in Louisiana.”

  Birthplace and childhood home of Monsieur D.

  “So, you think we’re in his dreamworld, then?”

  “There’s a very good chance, yes.”

  We proceeded with caution, mindful of every step we took as we both fully remembered Monsieur D’s legion of undead soldiers—zombies.

  “You don’t think there are …”

  “Alligators?” Dureau finished for me. “Could be. We’re in a dream, so anything is possible. There might even be a sabre-toothed tiger, for all I know.”

  “I hope not!”

  Up ahead, as if to prove the point that anything was possible in dream time, Monsieur D himself sat at a fully set dining table on a tiny island in the center of the swamp.

  “Ah, my friends! I’ve been expecting you.” He raised his arms expansively as though to hug the air around us. “Do come and join me.”

  And just like that, we were seated at the table beside Monsieur D, being attended by his zombies, who served us dinner. A chandelier hung suspended in the air above our heads, seemingly attached to nothing.

  “Have you ever tried gumbo, my dear?” Monsieur D asked in his French-Cajun accent. It took me a second or so to realize he was speaking to me.

  “No. What is it?”

  “A traditional Creole specialty,” he answered with his wide smile. “I know Dureau has tried it before. His family was from around these parts.” He looked over at Dureau and gave him a friendly nod, before turning back to face me. “Did you know that, Princess Bryn?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  Monsieur D smiled his oily smile and signalled for one of the zombies to ladle a helping onto his plate. The gumbo appeared to be some kind of meaty stew. As the zombie replaced the ladle, I couldn’t help but notice its thumb fell off into the pot.

  Instantly, my stomach roiled, and nausea crawled up my throat.

  “Won’t you have a taste, Bryn?”

  “No, thank you, Monsieur D. I’ve… already eaten.”

  Was it even possible to eat in a dream?

  I noticed he didn’t offer food to Dureau, who seemed unconcerned by the fact.

  “To what do I owe the honor of your visit, my fine young friends? And, by the way,” he laid a hand on my arm, a gesture which made me shiver, “I believe congratulations are in order.”

  “How did you...?” I started before I remembered Mathilda’s belief that my pregnancy was owing to the loophole in my contract with Monsieur D. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

  He threw back his head and laughed. The sound was hollow.

  “I believe I can take some credit, yes,” he finished as he faced me again. “I suppose you’re going to make me the godfather, oui ? Or, at the very least, name the child after me.”

  “You mean call the child Dureau?”

  If Monsieur D was surprised by my question, he didn’t show it. Instead, he laughed again, this time sounding like a cartoon villain.

  “So, our little secret is out, I see,” he said as he looked at Dureau. His laughter had most definitely not reached his eyes.

  “Yes,” Dureau replied. “Bryn knows everything.”

  “Does she indeed?”

  Monsieur D took a sip from a wine glass containing a deep, red vintage that looked uncomfortably like blood. I put this out of my mind as I began my attempts to convince him to reverse Dureau’s curse.

  “What happened to your ancestors was awful,” I started as I speared him with a narrowed expression. “Especially your poor mother.”

  “Yes,” he answered, his gaze settling on the wine in his hand.

  “But why should Dureau continue to pay for crimes he didn’t commit?”

  “The sins of the father must be atoned for,” Monsieur D answered, and his voice was loud and booming as it echoed eerily through the swamp. It caused a flock of crows to rise upward. They filled the sky with their ragged black wings and cried discordantly. What little light there was was almost blocked out.

  “I have atoned, as has my sister before me,” Dureau said in a low voice. “When will it ever be enough?” he finished, shouting against the beating of the wings.

  “It will never be enough.”

  Clearly, we weren’t going to convince him. Time for plan B.

  “We bring with us a message from the Queen of the Underworld.”

  The expression on Monsieur D’s face changed very slightly. I might have missed it if I hadn’t been watching him so closely.

  “Then all of you are aware of your curse?” he asked Dureau.

  “Not everyone,” Dureau responded. “But our queen is aware.”

  “And she believes it to be a heinous curse you’ve burdened Dureau with.”

  “No more than he deserves,” Monsieur D responded.

  “It’s way more than he deserves,” I argued. “Those who should atone for their sins are long gone and, who knows? They’re probably atoning for them now,” I continued. “But Dureau is guilty of nothing. What you are doing in cursing him, Monsieur D, is something you’ll have to atone for.”

  Monsieur D’s face betrayed no emotion.

  “Queen Jolie also knows you’ve passed on details of this curse to Luce, causing our tribe to be vulnerable to him,” Durea
u continued. “She has decreed that unless you lift the curse with immediate effect, you will be banished from the magical realms and never allowed to return.”

  I nodded. “The alliance you’ve been seeking will no longer be possible. You’ll be cast out. Forever.”

  “Do you have proof of this?” he asked me.

  “You have my word,” I answered. “As Jolie’s twin and the princess of her court.”

  “It was she who sent us here to discuss this with you,” Dureau added.

  “Then what is it, exactly, that you are asking me for?” Monsieur D asked as he turned to face Dureau with a pronounced frown.

  “I’m asking that my ability to enter the dreams of others not be taken away. But my inevitable descent into madness should be. And I shall be the one to decide when I enter the dream realm and when I return.” He took a deep breath. “I want total control of this… gift .”

  Monsieur D chewed methodically on what I imagined was a tough piece of meat in his gumbo. Alligator, maybe? He kept his eyes on his plate.

  “It shall be done,” he said quietly.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “You heard me,” he said as he lifted his face and gave me an expression of anger. “Now, leave this place!”

  This time his voice shook the mossy trees and the sodden ground. And out of that ground, out of the oozing mud, scores of zombies began to emerge.

  “Run!” I yelled as I pushed back from the table and stood.

  Dureau grabbed me by the hand, and we headed in the direction of the dark forest. We ran with all the speed and strength at our disposal, but still, the ground appeared to be dragging us down, as though it were quicksand. After another few seconds, I realized it wasn’t the ground at all, but the zombies.

  The undead reached up and out of the swamp, grabbing feverishly at our ankles. I was forced to stab some of them with my dagger. I saw Dureau punching a few of their heads that rose up after their hands, wet flesh falling away from the bones of their faces. All around us, the sound of Monsieur D’s laughter mocked us and relished our plight.

  Seconds later, we were out and away from the zombies, the swamp, and Monsieur D. We had done it. I stopped running and bent over to catch my breath, Dureau beside me. When I looked up, I spotted the flame where it burned mid-air, just to my right.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  I looked at him and nodded.

  Sinjin

  “Where is he? What have you done with my brother!?”

  Audrey burst into the room, looking even angrier than the last time I had seen her—and that was saying a considerable amount. Mercedes approached her rapidly and grabbed her by the upper arms.

  “Keep your voice down! If you wake them at this crucial moment, it could be fatal!”

  Audrey twisted free and made towards the bed. Quick as lightening, I extended an arm and apprehended her before she arrived.

  “And, you can go to hell, too!” She whisper-shouted, struggling fiercely against me, her face contorted with fury.

  Mathilda rushed over to her.

  “Hush, child. We mustn’t wake them now. We’re trying to help your brother, to lift the curse.”

  “The curse?” Audrey started as her anger dropped and she shook her head in confusion. “But how …”

  “Dureau and Bryn have entered Monsieur D’s dream. They are negotiating an end to the curse,” Mercedes explained.

  “They’ve done what? But that’s madness!” Audrey railed back at her. “Do you have any idea what kind of man Monsieur D is? He hates our family! He will stop at nothing …”

  “I have sanctioned it,” Jolie spoke calmly and firmly, her tone suggesting she would tolerate no argument. The contorted muscles in Audrey’s body relaxed as she released any remaining resistance. I, in turn, released her.

  “It was the only way, my dear,” continued Mathilda in her soothing, sing-song voice. “You saw for yourself how much Dureau had deteriorated of late. The curse was becoming far too heavy a burden for the poor boy. It was only a matter of time before he …”

  Audrey stared wide eyed at the supine body of her brother on the bed, her face paler than I had ever seen it.

  “Why didn’t he tell me?” Her words were barely audible.

  “Because he knew you would overreact,” I said bluntly.

  “Sinjin!” Mathilda gave me a stern look, before directing a far softer gaze at Audrey. “He didn’t tell you, dear, because he didn’t want to worry you.”

  “He’s the only family I have,” Audrey said in a haunted tone before her expression crumpled and she began to weep.

  “Women,” I murmured, but only under my breath, lest I receive another barbed look from Mathilda. Then, I deftly whipped my ever-ready handkerchief from my shirt pocket and handed it to Audrey. She glared at me momentarily, but then she took it, blowing her nose in quite an un-ladylike manner before handing said hanky back to me.

  “That is quite all right. You may keep the handkerchief,” I said with a pronounced smile.

  She nodded and continued to dab at her eyes and sniff.

  The spectacle did make me wonder. Would any woman cry for me if they should fear I was at death’s door? I looked about the room and concluded that every woman present, with the exceptions of Audrey and Mercedes, would most likely shed a few tears.

  Audrey may well throw a party in the event of my imminent demise. And Mercedes? Well, I doubted the prophetess was capable of producing tears. Mathilda? I knew she loved me. As did my queen, as I was her friend and loyal protector. Rachel would cry for me, for the part I played in rescuing her from Luce’s camp.

  And my dear Lady Bryn … she would cry, for I was the father of her babe. I must say, the thought pleased me greatly. There had been a time when not a living soul would have mourned the demise of Sinjin Sinclair. But I had found a family here at Kinloch Kirk, something I had never imagined I would ever possess. And now, I was soon to become a father … Wonders would never cease.

  “They’re waking up.”

  The voice was Jolie’s.

  We all crowded around the bed and peered at the two sleepers. Their expressions had become more animated somehow, and their bodies were twitching. Then the frog’s eyes flew open, followed by Bryn’s.

  “Dureau!” Audrey ran to her brother and this time, no one attempted to stop her.

  I sat back down at the edge of the bed beside Bryn. She blinked a few times, as if trying to work out where she was, looking all about her with those mesmerising blue eyes. I must say, she looked most fetching, with her honey hair all fanned out on the pillow about her head, her voluptuous lips parted, and her cheeks flushed. And do not even get me started on her sublime body … I would have taken her then and there had there not been an audience.

  Her gaze finally fixed on my own, and she smiled in what I believed to be relief. “Sinjin,” she breathed.

  I grinned back at her. “Welcome home, darling.”

  Chevalier sat up and ran his hands through his ridiculous hair.

  “Well?” Mercedes demanded. “Did you find Monsieur D?”

  “We did.” The fop smiled a smile that I imagined he thought of as winning . “And he agreed to lift the curse.”

  “Really!? He agreed to lift the curse?” Audrey all but shoved an outraged-looking Mercedes out of the way and flung her arms about her brother’s neck. Then she immediately drew back again.

  “But how can we know he’s not lying?” she asked.

  “The queen threatened to banish him from the magical realm forever if he did not lift the curse,” Chevalier responded.

  Audrey looked up at Jolie and smiled. “You have my eternal gratitude and loyalty, Queen Jolie.” She turned back to her brother. “But how can we test this? To be certain the curse is lifted?”

  “I already know,” said Chevalier. “I can feel it. I haven’t felt this clear-headed in months. I am fully present, at last.”

  The Chevaliers hugged each other, laughing intermitt
ently. I must say, it would have been quite a heart-warming scene, had one of the players been anyone other than Dureau Chevalier.

  I turned my attention to Bryn, who was grinning at the spectacle that the Chevaliers made of themselves.

  “Are you unharmed, my tempest?” I asked in a whisper tone.

  She turned her smile upon me, and it was quite dazzling.

  “Totally unharmed,” she answered with a nod. “It went smoothly enough. Well, apart from the bit at the end when Monsieur D unleashed his horde of zombies on us, but we were able to get ahead of them.”

  “He unleashed his zombies?” I asked, aghast.

  “Calm down, Sinjin,” Bryn said as she patted my hand. “I’m fine. The baby’s fine.”

  I felt inordinately proud of my indomitable little warrior. And there was more: I was proud she had chosen me as her mate. But even as my chest swelled with pride, the fop turned to face my woman and pulled her into an embrace. Which she returned. I had to restrain myself from dragging him away from her. But thankfully, they separated soon enough, and shortly after, they were both out of their respective sides of the bed. The consensus seemed to be that the mission had been a resounding success. Three cheers for the frog!

  Bryn came up alongside me and linked her arm through mine. I was quite taken aback, as I was still unused to these new public displays of affection. But I had to admit, I very much liked them.

  “You know what this means?” she asked.

  “Do enlighten me.”

  “That now we’ll be able to safely infiltrate the dreams of Luce’s tribespeople.”

  “There is nothing safe about that plan, Bete Noir, ” I explained. “However, if you insist on going ahead, with it, I insist on being intimately involved in the planning.”

  “Okay.”

  I looked at her in surprise. “You are not annoyed?”

  “Why would I be?”

  I shrugged. “Usually you are quite put out whenever I impose my will upon you.”

  She laughed. “Well, this time, I’d be very glad for your help. Especially since you’ve been inside the camp, which means you know the setup and the layout almost as well as I do.”

  I nodded. I did agree that I was in possession of vital knowledge, as was often the case.