Alterverse

by Keith B Darrell

  “That’s so sad,” Ursula said. “Poor Alaric.”

  Quinn’s eyes darted about the glade. “Where’s Karoly?”

  “Karoly?” Luna repeated.

  “Lupe said he was helping you collect firewood but I don’t see him. I can’t even hear him nearby.”

  Luna smirked and winked at Lupe. “Collecting firewood? Is that what they’re calling it now?”

  “I needed an excuse. We were with your mother and the others were within earshot. You know how conservative Romulus is. Why cause trouble for Karoly?”

  Quinn looked up at Lupe, puzzled. “Is Karoly in trouble?”

  “No, dear.” Lupe gave him a reassuring smile. “He went off to meet his gaje boyfriend. But don’t mention it to anyone back at the camp. Some of the older wolves aren’t as progressive as we are.”

  Ursula cocked her head. “Why does Karoly like boys?”

  “You like boys, don’t you?”

  Ursula frowned. “Yeah, some of them, but it’s different because I’m a girl.”

  “Shouldn’t you like someone based on who they are, not on what you are?”

  Ursula pondered her aunt’s remark. “I guess so. Is that why Karoly’s dating a gaje instead of a Rom?”

  Lupe nodded.

  “But Romulus says all gaje are marime,” Quinn said.

  “Romulus believes anyone without Roma blood is impure. He believes in racial purity and doesn’t like outsiders. He was furious when your father left the clan to live with a gaje, and a vampire at that. But you can’t help whom you fall in love with and, even if it turns out to be a mistake, everyone should be allowed that choice.”

  Quinn grinned at his sister. “Ursula likes Alaric.”

  “Stop saying that,” Ursula replied. “We’re just friends.”

  Cody frowned. “Alaric is a lot older than you.”

  “He’s only four years older,” Ursula said defensively.

  “That’s a big difference when you’re fourteen. I think you should date boys your own age.”

  Ursula let out an exasperated sigh. “Dad! I’m not dating Alaric; I can’t even find him, remember?”

  “Well, be careful when you do find him. His parents made a lot of enemies over the years so there’s no telling what he could be involved in.”

  Ursula nodded. “Mom said the same thing.” She took Quinn aside, as the others went back to gathering firewood. “Now I’m more convinced than ever Alaric is in trouble.”

  “Me too,” Quinn said. “But what can we do? We have no idea where he is. He could be anywhere.” He looked about to make sure no one else was close enough to hear. “What Dad told us about Alaric’s parents ties in with what Professor Eligos said in class that day. Alaric must be seeking retribution in the Dark Goddess Nemesis’ name for the Dark Gods having taken his parents.”

  Ursula gave her brother a worried look. “That means, excepting Nemesis, Alaric plans to take on the Dark Gods themselves.”

  “If we’re right, at least he’ll have one Dark God on his side.”

  “Nemesis may be the goddess of retribution, but do you really think she would side against her own siblings? Even if she did, the Dark Gods are omnipotent. He’ll end up just like his parents; Alaric is doomed.”

  The gray-streaked wolf trotted through the woods, a picnic basket firmly lodged in the jaw of her snout. She followed the long-familiar path yet remained alert for any eyes in the forest that might spot her on her furtive mission. When she arrived at the cave entrance, Katarina looked behind her to ensure she had not been followed and then morphed into human form. The older Gypsy woman took the basket from her mouth and carried it into the cave.

  As she walked deeper through the interconnecting caliginous caverns, Katarina could feel the temperature drop. She felt the cold more intensely without her fur. It’s too cold for the little ones, she thought, making a mental note to bring blankets on her next trip. She rounded a bend and saw flickering light. She stepped into a larger, subterranean cul-de-sac.

  A dozen children were huddled by the fire. An older girl approached Katarina. “Aunt Beast! We didn’t expect you tonight.”

  “Obviously,” Katarina replied, looking at the fire.

  “Please don’t be angry. I only cast the spell because they were so cold they were shivering.” She glanced at the younger children behind her. “No one will see it from outside the cave.”

  “I hope not.” She knew discovery would mean the forfeiture of their lives, and yet had she their powers Katarina would have done the same. “Probably not. You did the right thing, Emma. But you must be careful; if the younger ones emulate you and start using their witchcraft—”

  “I know. That much witchcraft in such close proximity could easily serve as a beacon for the Dark Gods to home in on us.”

  Katarina noticed an unfamiliar face. She perused the little boy’s features. “Who is this?” The demure boy backed into the shadows.

  “His name is Jonas Braxton. Our families belong to the same coven. His father and uncles are helping my oldest sister flee to sanctuary but they realized being accompanied by a child would jeopardize their chances. My sister prevailed on me to take him in.”

  “You’ve been meeting with your sister? You know you’re not supposed to leave the cave. You could have been seen.”

  She shook her head. “Drusilla and I can communicate telepathically as long as we’re not too far apart. It’s how we speak to each other whenever we merge into a single entity. But she’d never reveal the location of the cave and I only left briefly to collect Jonas.”

  “You should have waited for me to fetch the boy.”

  “There was no time. He’d be dead had I waited.”

  Katarina nodded. “And your other sister? Does she know anything of the cave?”

  Emma shook her head. “I haven’t been able to contact Samantha. She must be too far away or… No, I would have felt it if she’d died. You haven’t heard anything about her, have you, Aunt Beast?”

  “No; though I understand her son may be missing, as well.”

  Emma gasped. “Alaric! I must find him.”

  “You must not leave this cave. Do you have a death wish?”

  “But he’s my nephew.”

  “Stop being selfish. You may be little more than a child yourself but you’re still the eldest here. How long do you think the others would survive without your guidance?”

  Emma glanced at the young faces illuminated by the flickering flames. Cold, dirty, and frightened faces stared back at her. “I know you’re right, Aunt Beast, but—”

  “Alaric’s friends are looking for him. If they find him, I’ll bring him here. But you must promise me you will not leave the cave again, under any circumstances.”

  The young girl gazed down contritely. “I promise, Aunt Beast.”

  Katarina handed her the basket. “It was all I could manage without bringing suspicion on myself. I’ll bring more next time, along with some blankets. Now I must go before I’m missed and people start asking questions.”

  Emma hugged the older Gypsy woman. “Goodbye, Aunt Beast.” A chorus of young voices repeated the refrain. “Goodbye, Aunt Beast.”

  Katarina turned and trekked back through the tenebrific cavern, embarking on her return to the gypsy campsite.

  Jonas looked up at Emma. “Why does everyone call her Aunt Beast? That’s a funny name.”

  “When the Dark Gods began hunting down witches and warlocks years ago they turned to lycanthropes to track us because of their enhanced senses and familiarity with the forests.”

  “What’s a lycanthrope?”

  “People who can turn into savage wolves or ferocious werewolves. We simply call them the beasts. Some are true beasts that enjoy killing and others merely do as the Dark Gods command, but a few like Aunt Beast rescue and shelter as many children as they can. We don’t know her true name nor would we wish to, for that knowledge would endanger her life. She’s like a guardian aunt looking after us in o
ur parents’ stead. Without Aunt Beast, we would all have perished by now.”

  Jonas gulped. He stepped meekly toward the bend in the cavern Katarina had disappeared into minutes before, and whispered tremulously, “Goodbye, Aunt Beast.”

  Chapter Five

  Alaric and Morgan Summers followed the fox through the street that bisected the medieval marketplace of the Dreamscape. “Do you think the shaman and Nitrate will still be in the tavern when we return?” Alaric asked.

  “The shaman said he would wait and if we can’t trust his word then we shouldn’t be placing our lives in his hands. As for that reprobate Nitrate, he doesn’t have anywhere else to go. Besides, we left Asabi and Kunoichi with them.”

  Alaric gazed at the wooden stalls to his left and his right as they passed. “It all looks so real; and yet, this is all a dream?”

  “Not a dream – the Dreamscape. This is where people go to have dreams. It’s a realm as are all the others, but with its own chaotic rules beyond our notions of physics and reality. As the Dark Gods can so readily attest, what we humans perceive of as reality is… Quaint.” Morgan gestured to a stall. “That’s it, up ahead on the right.”

  Kita slowed her pace, waiting for them to catch up. Together, they entered the stall. A lone tall man stood behind a table. Dressed meticulously in a three-piece suit, he wore dark sunglasses and a pair of gloves. A solitary briefcase sat on the tabletop before him in the otherwise empty and nondescript stall. “Pleasant dreams,” he bid them as they entered.

  “Pleasant dreams,” Morgan replied in kind. “We look forward to transacting some business with you today.”

  The dream merchant offered a perfunctory smile. “Certainly.” He opened his briefcase, positioning the lid at a right angle, revealing two rows of glass vials strapped inside. “The top row are pleasant dreams and the bottom row are horrific nightmares.” He smiled again. It was the agreeable yet insincere smile of a salesman. “There’s always a strong demand for one or the other. Usually, people seek pleasant dreams for themselves and nightmares for their enemies. Which are you in the market for?”

  Alaric glanced around the empty stall. “We’d like to speak with all of the dream merchants regarding a proposition.”

  “My brethren are going about their business, collecting and dispensing dreams in the waking realms. You may deal with me, for the Guild of Dream Merchants works in concert: to deal with one is to deal with all.”

  “As long as you have the authority to enter into binding contracts on behalf of the Guild—” Morgan began.

  The dream merchant looked askance at Kita. “However, we would not be interested if she’s part of your deal.”

  “What have you got against Kita?” Alaric asked. “Do you even know her?”

  “I know all I need to know,” the dream merchant said. “She’s a kitsune – a trickster spirit. They’re perfidious creatures. Only a gullible fool would enter into a business transaction with a beguiling trickster.”

  “She’s with us,” Morgan replied forcefully, “and we’re not tricksters.”

  “And I’m not a gullible fool. Good day.” He shut his briefcase.

  “Wait,” Alaric said. “You and your brethren – your entire business revolves around one product: dreams. Most vendors offer a wide array of merchandise yet you trade only in dreams. Why? What makes dreams so uniquely valuable?”

  The dream merchant spread his gloved hands. “What does one have without dreams? Dreams embody one’s hopes and aspirations; one’s happy memories; and one’s desires.”

  “Then what of a dream that embodies man’s greatest hopes and aspirations, and his ultimate desire? How much would such a dream be worth?”

  “Humans are unique individuals; each has his or her own desires, hopes, and aspirations. They have no single ultimate desire. If they did, it would be priceless.”

  “But they do,” Alaric said. “There’s a dream so powerful, so compelling, that it’s shared by almost every human. It’s a dream so strong it strikes fear into the hearts of the Dark Gods. It’s the most powerful dream you’ll ever see.” Alaric turned and walked a few steps toward the entrance to the stall. “But obviously, there’s no point in dealing with a man who has already expressed his lack of interest. Pleasant dreams.” He motioned to the others to join him.

  The dream merchant leaned across the table. “Wait. I would hear more of this dream of which you speak.”

  Alaric turned, and stared into his eyes. “Outside the Dreamscape, we live in a world without hope, in a land of darkness and despair, where chaos has replaced order, and omnipotent forces rule our lives according to their arbitrary and capricious whims. Among the oppressed there is but one deep-rooted dream: freedom. It’s a dream that will grow stronger as it proliferates. It’ll spread like wildfire in the Dreamscape but you dream merchants, with your ability to transcend this realm and venture into the material realms, will be able to carry it forth into the waking world too.”

  Morgan nodded. “All men desire to be free. Everyone wishes to be in control of his own destiny. And the desire is greatest when it is being thwarted.”

  “You of all people know the content of dreams,” Kita said to the dream merchant as she morphed into a fox. “Dreams represent man’s ultimate freedom to imagine, for the Dreamscape has no boundaries beyond the limit of each dreamer’s imagination. All men desire freedom both in their dreams and in the reality of the waking world, just as no animal wishes to be caged.” The kitsune transformed from a fox back into a woman.

  The dream merchant ruminated. “You may be a trickster spirit, yet your words bear a certain verisimilitude.”

  “Humanity is choking under the reign of the Dark Gods,” Alaric said. “The Guild of Dream Merchants is uniquely positioned to help us spread the dream of freedom here in the Dreamscape through men’s dreams as well as in the waking world.” He pointed to the briefcase. “How large is your guild? How many dream merchants are there, traversing the waking world with briefcases like that one? Imagine them filled with vials of dreams of resistance and freedom. The strongest, most passionate dreams the human mind can conceive. Your product, redesigned and reconfigured for the ultimate product launch.”

  The dream merchant stroked his chin and contemplated. “Unleashing such powerful dreams would strengthen our realm, which would undoubtedly please Hypnos and the Oneiroi, but it would enrage the other Dark Gods.”

  “They will not enter the Dreamscape,” Kita said. “Nor can their servants, the vampires. You have nothing to fear from the other Dark Gods.”

  “My brethren would still be vulnerable while in the waking world.”

  “But they have the power to return instantly to the Dreamscape,” Kita said. “The risk is minimal and the rewards vast.”

  The dream merchant eyed the kitsune warily. “I still don’t trust you, trickster spirit, but as a businessman I cannot ignore the risk/reward analysis.” He pondered for a moment before turning to Alaric. “Very well, you have a deal.”

  “How did it go?” Nitrate asked, as Alaric, Morgan, and Kita entered the tavern.

  Alaric grinned. “We struck a bargain with the Guild of Dream Merchants. Now all we have to do is get consent from this realm’s rulers to go forward with our plans.”

  Morgan arched an eyebrow. “I doubt it will be as easy as swaying the dream merchants. We’ll be asking them to betray their own siblings.”

  “Siblings have been betraying each other since Cain killed Abel; or at least that’s how it happened in my reality,” Asabi said.

  “Still…” Morgan stopped, as his body faded. “I’m being pulled from the Dreamscape. I must be awakening in the waking world.” Then he disappeared completely.

  “How inconvenient,” Nitrate said insincerely. “He must find it terribly annoying to be yanked back into his own realm unexpectedly.”

  “I, too, must depart soon,” the shaman said.

  “But you promised to get us to the palace,” Alaric said.

&nb
sp; “A promise I may keep if we leave now.”

  Alaric nodded. “We can’t wait for Morgan Summers to reappear.”

  “I won’t be able to accompany you but I can transport you to the palace.”

  “How do we return?” Kunoichi asked.

  The shaman laughed. “You’re embarking on an impossible mission, infiltrating the home of the most powerful beings in this realm, and daring to seek their blessing to overthrow their siblings. Returning should be least of your concerns.” The shaman pulled out a pouch and sprinkled mushrooms onto the table. As soon as the mushrooms touched the tabletop they incinerated, leaving only vapor. “Quickly, inhale the vapors.”

  Alaric, Asabi, Nitrate, Kita, and Kunoichi did as they were instructed. Alaric felt drowsy and closed his eyes; when he opened them, the tavern was gone. The others opened their eyes, as well. Alaric perused their new surroundings. It was definitely not a tavern. The structure was huge with large tapestries hanging from the walls, each displaying a story woven into its intricate artwork. Piles of diamonds and emeralds and rubies were scattered across the floor, and a golden glow shone through row after row of stained-glass windows casting a rainbow of distorted shadows.

  Nitrate wandered among the piles of precious gems. “I’ve heard stories of the palace but I never imagined it would be like this.”

  “Do not become distracted,” Kunoichi said. “We are on a mission.”

  “This is your realm, Nitrate,” Alaric said. “Make yourself useful: how do we find Hypnos and the Oneiroi?”

  Nitrate gazed about nervously. “I did warn you they might not be home when we called. It’s rather a large place; even if they are, they could be anywhere.”

  Kita frowned. “This is the Dreamscape. We may meld reality here to our wishes. Now that we’re in the palace, all we need do is imagine summoning Hypnos and he should appear.” The kitsune concentrated and their surroundings shifted yet again.

  “Everything’s changed,” Alaric said.

  “That’s the chaotic nature of the Dreamscape,” Asabi explained. “Just as in your dreams, the environment may fluctuate. But look!” She pointed to a golden throne with red velvet cushions occupied by a heavyset, somnolent man. To his side was a rustling brook, and the sound of the water cascading over the pebbles atop its bed evoked a sense of tranquility that almost lulled them to sleep. Lush poppies grew on the sandy bank of the brook, occasionally popping open and spraying the air with sleep-inducing pollen. Asabi, though drowsy, resisted the urge to sleep.