“They must be here somewhere,” Daniel replied. “We all may have entered this realm in a different place at a different ‘time,’” he used air quotes, “but Daralek said we’d follow the Dreamland sequence the same way, and that means we’re all going from Enigma to Sweet Dreams to the Wanderers’ Void. We just need to keep going. And we need to pick up the pace. Fifteen Book nights have already elapsed. We’re running out of time.”
I nodded, and we both turned to follow our Dream Compasses. Regrettably, they soon led us to the edge of a cliff. The devices indicated that we needed to go down again, but the landscape below was several miles from where we stood.
Suddenly a strong wind blew my hair. As I tucked it behind my ears, I noted two things: long red licorice vines dangling over the brink of the cliff, and a massive dandelion seed floating below a couple dozen yards away. It was probably even taller than I was—a greenish brown base long and cylindrical like the pole of a beach umbrella with its white fringe sticking out on top like a propeller. I swiftly spotted another seed in the air, and another, and another.
“Daniel, look.” A gargantuan dying dandelion weed stood to our left below, reaching to where the licorice vines ended. Its fluffy, white, round head was the size of a castle and kept shedding more seeds with each gust of wind that floated down gracefully to the valley.
“That stem looks smooth and must be miles long,” Daniel said, marveling at the green pillar base of the plant. “I don’t know how we can possibly climb down. It doesn’t seem like a doable Jack & the Beanstalk situation.”
“Not the stem, Daniel,” I said. “The seeds. We can float down.”
Daniel released an amused huff. “You can’t be serious?”
“You’re afraid of cats, Daniel, not heights. Come on, we’ve done way worse.”
“You’re either getting braver or crazier, you know that?”
“Tomato, toma-toe,” I replied. “Now follow me.”
“Apparently I can’t help it,” Daniel said, shaking his head.
Using the licorice vines like climbing rope, we descended to within a few feet of the dandelion’s fluffy cluster of seeds. We let go of our vines at the same time and dropped onto two seeds, which bent from our weight nicely to deposit us, as planned, on the head of the dying flower. What I hadn’t planned for was one of the seed’s white extending fringes sliding between my dress and jacket. Just as I touched down, it started to bend back up—taking me with it.
Yikes! I struggled to hastily unzip my jacket. My arms slid out of the sleeves and the jacket and seed snapped backward while I dropped the remaining way into a face plant. Literally and figuratively I guess.
Ow.
That was going to leave a bruise. Or several. Fortunately, the Dream Compass in my dress pocket and the Dream Catcher on my arm remained undamaged.
Daniel came over and helped me up. “You okay?”
“I’ll live. Probably. Now we only need to find a seed that’s ready to let go.” I glanced around. “Like that one.” I gestured at a seed whose clumpy brown base was more than halfway free of the dandelion’s head. I went over to it with Daniel. “This should be big enough for both of us.”
“We need to hurry,” Daniel said, sounding slightly worried.
“Why?”
“Since you’ve been here, have you encountered any counting sheep?”
“Yeah . . .”
Daniel pointed behind me. Peering around the side of a distant seed was a blue sheep. I kept turning and spotted eight more demon creatures, stalking us.
“There’s too many of them to shoot if they attack all at once,” I whispered. “You keep their attention, I’ll get us going. I’m going to pull your sword since my wand doesn’t work here.”
Carefully I drew Daniel’s sword from the sheath on his back. I furrowed my brow with a bit of distaste when I held the cursed blade. We’d had a lot going on recently, but once we saved Mauvrey and Mark and returned home, I’d dedicate more of my time to this issue—push Merlin to dig deeper for a solution. Kai may have had mixed feelings about my existence, but Daniel still loved her. I wasn’t about to let anything happen to the girl, even if she did bother me.
I backed up toward our chosen seed as Daniel stepped out a bit in order to draw the sheep’s attention. Several of the creatures started taking gradual steps forward, eyeing my friend. Daniel slowly raised his Dream Catcher, which he’d strapped over his sleeve.
“Any time now, Knight.”
“I’m ready,” I said, preparing to strike the base of our seed. “Just say when.”
Three sheep were much closer than the others. Daniel took aim at the nearest one. “Now!”
I hacked at the bottom of the dandelion seed, setting it free from the head of the flower. At the same time, Daniel launched his first net, sizzling a sheep. The others began running at us. The dandelion seed dragged on the flower’s head as the wind pulled at it. I dashed after the seed; Daniel fired two more nets before joining me. I passed Daniel his sword as we ran. He stowed the weapon while I raised my own Dream Catcher and took out a sheep about to tackle us.
The wind drew the seed toward the brink. Daniel jumped onto it, and I followed a split-second later right before its base left the flower and floated off into the sky.
Whoo!
Daniel and I had our feet on the base of the seed and our arms around the tall, cylindrical stem as the wind pushed us into the open. After a moment the counting sheep were no longer visible through the seeds, and my heart rate calmed as I took in the stellar view.
We floated in a sky soaked in pinks and oranges. Their soft light reflected off my genie cuffs in the most radiant way, and the white fringes branching off the top of the dandelion seed formed a lovely canopy overhead.
Beneath us passed mountains crested with snow, rivers of pure liquid gold, galloping herds of white deer with silver horns. And then Daniel shifted and I looked at him.
The whole clinging-to-the-seed thing meant my shoulder was pressed against his, our faces close. It caused me to think about the last portal I’d seen in The Hypotheticals. I didn’t want to—I wanted to block that out—but I couldn’t.
The realm of Sweet Dreams was all about innermost hopes. The other things I’d seen in The Hypotheticals certainly reflected some aspect of how I’d like my life to turn out—they reflected the kindest, most wonderful versions of my fate. So . . . did that mean that somewhere, deep down, I had feelings for Daniel that went beyond friendship? That I wanted . . . that.
“Daniel,” I said. “I take it that you got caught in some visions while journeying across this realm?”
Daniel nodded, eyes still on the view. “A few. The best and worst of it was when my parents appeared out of nowhere and came to hug me. Even though I knew it was impossible, a part of me got sucked in for a second.”
Daniel’s parents had died in a fire when he was a kid, along with his younger sister. I couldn’t image how gut-wrenching a dream like that must’ve been to break free of.
“What about you?” he asked, meeting my gaze.
“Nothing quite so profound,” I admitted. “Someone I’ve been arguing with asked for my forgiveness. And Javier named me captain of our Twenty-Three Skidd team.”
“Nervous about my leadership already?” Daniel joked.
“No.” I smiled softly. “I think a part of me has always felt sad that magic and antagonists got in the way of Twenty-Three Skidd. Maybe in another life I could have committed to it more and excelled.”
“I get why you would dream about that.”
A silent beat passed between us as the wind pushed our seed closer to the ground. We steadily approached a forest on the horizon of the valley. I should’ve been focusing on our inbound landing, but that vision of Daniel nagged at my mind. I had to address it, at least indirectly.
“Hey, Daniel,” I said. “You know how you love Kai?”
“Yeah?”
“How do you know for sure that she is the right person f
or you?”
Daniel made a face of distaste like he wanted to gag. “Please don’t tell me you’re asking because of your situation with Chance? I’m sorry, but we’re not close enough friends to have that conversation.”
I grimaced. “No, Daniel. I was just asking if you’re sure she is the only girl for you out of general curiosity. It’s a big world and people change—they grow closer, but also further apart. How can you be positive she is your one-and-only forever person? How does anyone ever know that?”
Daniel thought for a moment. “She’s my forever because I can’t imagine life without her. No version of it, no version of me, seems right. Also, I feel like I am at my best when I am with her. I guess that’s how I know. It’s probably how anyone would know.”
Our seed was seconds away from impacting a plush carpet of grass and wildflowers.
“Together?” Daniel asked.
“On my mark this time,” I said. “Ready, set, go!”
Daniel and I hopped off the seed, avoiding the crashing and tumbling to the ground that would have occurred if we’d stayed on when the seed plowed into the grass and collapsed on its side moments later.
“If you have any particularly big wishes, now would be the time,” Daniel joked, gesturing at the fallen dandelion seed.
I huffed in amusement then glanced back at the gigantic dying dandelion weed that stretched to the cliff. Many seeds continued to float off its fluffy, white head and drift across the sky in the most breathtaking fashion.
I wish I hadn’t seen that vision of Daniel and me in The Hypotheticals.
Daniel obviously didn’t see me that way. We were best friends, but he loved Kai more than anyone. I’d known that for a while, which meant if any scrap of me was fantasizing about us being together, it was not a rational part. It was more like some overly hormonal teenage girl part drunk on too much chocolate milk and chick lit novels.
Dreams, even Sweet Dreams, didn’t always make sense. This was one of those times. The best thing I could do was log it away with other nonsensical dreams, like typewriters with frog legs and flower petal pizza slices.
Daniel and I strode ahead, following my Dream Compass. We moved beneath trees that grew taller as we delved deeper. They had black bark and branches full of fire-truck–red leaves. Falcons like those at Lord Channing’s perched in the trees. Occasionally one of the birds would fly down to our level and hop alongside us for a few moments before taking off again. As we got farther into the woods, we spotted a number of small shops and houses sprouting up between the trees.
“Cute buildings,” I mused.
“I recognize them,” Daniel said in a bit of awe. “They’re from the street I grew up on before I lost my family. This realm must be drawing from my good memories to create dream mirages.” He pointed at a quaint yellow dwelling. “That looks like the house of the guy who gave me my first sword fighting lesson when I was five. And that one there is the office building where my mom used to be a secretary.” He gestured to a tall gray building sandwiched between two tall oak trees.
Then Daniel stopped when he spotted a reddish cottage on our right.
“That’s . . . my house,” he said. He drifted toward it.
“Daniel,” I said softly, catching his arm. “The moon.”
Our big beacon in the sky had nearly reached half capacity.
“You don’t want to get stuck in another dream,” I warned.
“I know,” he said. “But I just need a minute. This place doesn’t exist anymore. It may be my only chance to see it again.”
I sighed and let him go. I couldn’t argue with his reasoning. Even with the time crunch, who was I to take away a chance for him to revisit his past? If I came across something or someone I’d lost, I’d be no better. I followed Daniel inside the house.
The front door—wooden and modest—opened to a living room where a family portrait hung above a maroon couch. Daniel was so little in the picture. Even at that age his smile was smug in an endearing way.
At the back of the room the fireplace was lit, making the space feel extra cozy. A small basket, like a cat bed, sat in the corner. That must’ve been the part of this dream that wasn’t right—like how Javier and Kai had slight inconsistencies with their appearances when I dreamed about them. Daniel was afraid of cats.
“It’s not an illusion,” Daniel said, following my gaze to the basket. He stared at the object resentfully. “We had a gray cat named Doug. I found him when I was four and insisted that we keep him. I had him as a pet until I was nine. The day of the fire, I forgot to close the front door and he got out. I searched the city all afternoon, but didn’t find him. When I started making my way back home at dusk, I saw the smoke.”
“That’s why you weren’t here when it happened . . .” I said slowly and full of reverence for the truth he was sharing. “That’s why you hate cats . . .”
“I should have been here,” Daniel stated angrily, shamefaced. “I’ve never stopped feeling guilty about it. Maybe I could’ve done something. This place is a reminder of that.”
I glanced around the house. Although it was empty, the cottage still felt full of life and warmth.
“Being here must also make you happy though, right?” I conjectured carefully. “Otherwise the cottage wouldn’t appear in Sweet Dreams. Despite how things turned out . . . your mind must remember it as a good place.”
Daniel looked around too and took a deep breath. “Yeah. I guess it does. This was where my family and heart were before I found you and the others at school. It was home in every sense of the word.”
He walked across the living room to an open door. I followed. We stepped into the cottage’s kitchen. Daniel cracked a smile when he saw the table strewn with cards—not playing cards, the collectable kind with athletes on them.
“My mom was always nagging me to clean these up,” he said. “Here, you’ll appreciate this.” He went to the table and waved me forward. The cards featured notable Twenty-Three Skidd players from teams across the realm. He picked up a few and handed them to me.
I smiled. “You collected these?”
“Still do. I have a box under my bed in my room at Lord Channing’s. There’s one card left from this place.” He gestured at the house. “This one.” He held up a card that featured Jefferson Brady, a player from my kingdom’s team actually, the Midveil Patriots. The guy retired a few years ago, but in this picture he looked in his prime.
“The Patriots were always my favorite pro team,” Daniel said. “Funny, considering that now I’m on a team with Midveil’s future queen. After the fire, I found this card half burned in the wreckage. It’s probably the most important thing I own.”
“I’d love to see it sometime.” I took in the cards thoroughly before my eyes fell upon Daniel again. He gazed at the kitchen with such longing and sadness.
“Daniel.” I pivoted and took a step to stand in front of him. “It’s not your fault you weren’t here. You have nothing to feel guilty about. They’re your family, so I get it. But there may not have been anything you could have done. You probably would have gotten killed too.”
“I would have tried to help either way,” Daniel said. “You would do the same.”
“I would,” I said. “Because the people we love matter more than our own self-preservation. But I think those people would want us to forgive ourselves.” I put my hand on his shoulder. “You’re a hero, Daniel, even if you haven’t always been able to save everyone. Your family—the one you lost and the one you have now—doesn’t see it any other way.”
We stood there for a moment before he placed the playing cards down on the table.
“Come on, Knight. We’re wasting moonlight.” He turned abruptly and headed for the front door. Once we reached it, he held it open for me, but then held up a hand before I walked through. “I appreciate you, you know.”
I met his eyes—hard by nature but softened for me.
“I know,” I said. “And the feeling is mutual.”
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We didn’t say anything more. Daniel took one last look at his house then shut the door.
Outside, the surroundings had morphed. The trees remained, but now cotton candy bushes grew from a sandy ground. Turtles with tiny wings flew near the branches. Most notably, there was a tragedy in the sky. The moon had changed in the time we’d been inside the house.
I checked my Dream Compass—it had been fourteen nights since we left Book. That meant our moon would be full again in twelve more.
“Blue, will you just stop for a minute.”
Daniel and I turned our heads in the direction the voice had come from, then looked at each other.
“That was Jason,” Daniel said.
“Talking to Blue,” I added.
We dashed in the direction of Jason’s voice until our friends appeared through a break in the trees. However, we stopped before we reached them. Even from a distance, it was obvious they were having an argument. It would’ve been awkward charging in so we ducked behind a cotton candy bush to wait it out. I peeked over the bush and recognized the landscape that stretched out past where the forest ended ahead—lavender sky, three bright yellow suns whose golden essence ran down the mountains like runny egg yolks, a snail the size of a house with a shimmering silver shell and powder blue body trudging along in the background. The setting was exactly how I recalled it from my dream.
“What does it matter what my Hypotheticals were?” Blue paced around the area as Jason dogged her.
“Because I have a feeling that at least one of them matched mine,” Jason said. “And if you’re not going to admit yours, then I’m going to have to go out on a limb and hope I don’t look like an idiot.”
Blue held up a hand, a slight cringe in her expression. “Jason, whatever you’re going to say, this isn’t the time or the place.”
“Blue . . .” Jason sighed. “When is the time and place?”
Blue didn’t meet Jason’s gaze.
Daniel was gripped watching the scene. “Oh, man. He’s going to tell her he likes her,” he whispered.
My eyebrows raised in surprise. “You know Jason likes Blue?”
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