Dreamleaf Blues (The Book Wielder Saga)

by Sean Davies

  Seth gave him a stern look, and the angry Mage immediately backed down and folded his arms in a strop.

  “To business, then.” Seth slammed his hands down on the table and beckoned for Genie and Chloe to join them.

  On closer inspection, Genevieve saw that the old table had a finely carved and extremely detailed map of the continent of Rura, as it was in the ancient times. She also noticed that the map had been ‘modernised’ by the gang to include newer towns and cities by scratching and gouging into the polished surface of the antique table. There were different coloured wooden markers in the shapes of infantry, cavalry, caravans, and siege weapons, which Genie assumed had been repurposed to stand for the Golden Fang’s Supernatural rivals.

  Seth produced a plotting rod from beneath the table and tapped a nondescript location just northeast of Fort Dominia with the rod’s flattened edge.

  “Did you really need the stick for that?” Genevieve said, amused by the overdramatic display.

  Seth glared at her, his red eyes blazing with anger, and everyone in the room fell deathly silent. However, he simply turned his fierce attention to the Book Wielder instead.

  “The farm,” Seth said icily, breaking the awkward silence.

  “Aww, not the farm!” Chloe groaned.

  “Yes, the farm,” Seth replied unkindly. “Make sure you get a decent amount of Nightmare Nettle this time – Paul’s map says there’s tons on the other side of the farm, so you better come back loaded with the stuff. With our growing territory we need to keep our dealers supplied, so you’ll be working more… and you need to up your Dreamleaf output. We can’t have other people doing your Alchemy when they’ve got their own duties to handle.”

  Chloe sighed moodily. “You don’t want much, do you?”

  “You may find yourself with plenty more spare time after I let Chaz torch your room,” Seth retorted with a cruel smile. “Would you enjoy that, Chaz?”

  The Mage’s bad mood vanished instantly, and his purple eyes went wide with sadistic intent. “I’d burn each one of your precious pictures one by one – while you watched, of course.” He opened his hands and bright fire danced around his fingers.

  “Fine, whatever,” Chloe said trying to sound indifferent, but her voice was wobbly, and her eyes were filled with tears.

  As Seth and his friends roared with laughter, Genevieve reached for the hilt of her Katana, but Chloe yanked her arm back down.

  Archie caught the movement and stopped laughing. “Let’s go, girls, work to be done.” He shot Genevieve a warning look before barging past her and Chloe.

  Genie gave Seth and Chaz a filthy look before following along with the poor young Book Wielder.

  They left the fort in silence, out into the cold dark night, and as they passed through the keep’s rebuilt iron gates and into the walled-off courtyard, Genevieve got a good view of the Golden Fang’s headquarters for the first time.

  The ancient fort was an imposing rectangle of old stonework with patches of modern restorative work. Its sturdy battlements made the three-storey fort appear even taller, and Genie could see the bolt heads of imitation ballistae poking out from the gaps at regular intervals. The fort was lit up from multiple ground level spotlights placed beside the structure’s outer perimeter wall, which had been ravaged by the passing of time but still stood at least ten feet tall at its most intact sections, and the main gate had been fully restored and upgraded with huge reinforced steel doors that looked like they could stop a tank in its tracks. The Golden Fangs had hung their banner from several places in both the main keep and on crumbling walls, and Genie wondered if the other gangs were so quick to advertise their key structures.

  Chloe and Genevieve followed Archie to an assemblage of parked cars beside the main gate. There were dozens of loud obnoxious Supernaturals in the courtyard, mostly macho men in tight tops wearing too much gold jewellery, but there were also a few women with an evil gleam in their sexy sly eyes who wore a sense of superiority and entitlement with natural ease. They all reminded Genevieve of Seth and Scythe, and she assumed they were all living up to their superiors’ poor examples. Genie also noticed a few smartly dressed solitary figures in the shadows, and where the other members of the gang were playing around foolishly, they were going about their business quietly and methodically. She assumed the disciplined Supernaturals either belonged to or aspired to be like Gaius.

  Archie came to a halt, looking up and down the line of impressive automobiles and bikes. “You better give it a zap. Let’s see what the boss has given ya.”

  Genie fished out the keys and noticed that it had two buttons on it; one with a closed lock symbol, and the other with an opened one. She gasped, realising whatever car she’d been gifted with had remote central locking, a feature that only the flashiest of motors had. With a sense of eagerness that surprised her, Genie quickly pressed the unlock button on one of the keys and saw the lights of a sporty dark-blue jeep flash on and off. Genevieve’s eyes went wide with surprise. The jeep looked as though it had been rolled straight out of a posh dealership.

  “A priceless sword and an expensive set of wheels in one night,” Archie sighed “Goddesses above, I wish I’d been born with a pair of tits and a twat….”

  “You’d still be just as ugly,” Chloe muttered under her breath, before covering it with a loud whistle. “The boss must really like you, Genie!”

  “It’s only ‘cos she reminds him of someone,” Archie said, walking off towards Genie’s new car.

  Genevieve quickly caught up. “Who do I remind him of?”

  “Someone we used to know a lifetime ago,” Archie explained flatly before gesturing for her to get in. “Enough jibber-jabber, its work time.”

  Genie wanted to press for a better explanation, but the stern look in Archie’s red eyes and the scowl on his face told her what answer she could expect if she did. She decided to wait for the right moment before digging further.

  She climbed into the white leather driver’s seat and took in the marvellous interior. There was even a radio with a CD player, and Genie wondered if she’d ever earn enough with the Golden Fangs to buy the new and expensive compact discs.

  Archie settled himself into the passenger’s side while Chloe threw her duffel bag into the back and climbed in after it. Genevieve put the key in the ignition, flicked on the headlights, and turned the key. She exhaled as the engine roared with power and she slowly pulled away, very conscious of the fact that she was surrounded by the gang’s collection of expensive vehicles. She pulled up to the massive iron gates and waited patiently, until Archie let out a pained sigh and leaned over, smacking the horn repeatedly. Almost immediately a muscly Vampire and Werewolf began pulling the heavy slabs of iron open.

  “You gotta throw your weight around to get ahead here,” Archie advised as they drove through the gate.

  “Sorry, I was raised to be polite,” Genie grumbled back.

  “So was I,” Archie replied in a bored tone, “but it doesn’t get you anywhere, in the human society or in ours.”

  Genevieve said nothing in reply as they travelled across a solid concrete bridge, over the shallow remnants of a moat that would have once been Fort Dominia’s wooden drawbridge.

  Genie looked back at the structure from her rear-view mirror and studied the wobbly outer wall. “Are you planning on repairing the ramparts? They’d still be thick enough to man people on.”

  “Why? As if our enemies would be dumb enough to try attacking us here,” Archie chuckled.

  “Well, what if they are dumb enough?” she replied, unimpressed.

  He shrugged. “I dunno, Gaius handles that kinda stuff.”

  Genevieve shook her head in disbelief and spent the rest of the short journey taking directions from the burly Vampire.

  They twisted and turned down sharp country lanes, until Archie directed them down a long dirt road that eventually led them completely off-road and onto bumpy grass fields. After a few minutes of uncomfortable driving, Ge
nevieve spotted a farm in the distance amidst fields of half-grown crops, and their progress was soon halted by a thick wooden fence. A husky old farmer stood beside a wooden gate with a shotgun resting casually in his hands.

  “Mad old fuck,” Archie grinned. “What does he actually think he can do with that shotgun?”

  “Erm… shoot us?” Chloe answered mockingly.

  He scoffed. “Takes more than lead to stop an Ironfang,” he said, smacking his fist against his chest.

  Both Chloe and Genevieve tutted and rolled their eyes at the idiotic gesture.

  Archie made a face and left the vehicle. He pulled out a wad of Imperial Credits and thrust them into the old farmer’s hands before returning to the vehicle. The farmer opened the gate and waved Genie through.

  Archie once again directed her, and they made their way down the outside of the farm until they came to a shed, opposite a patch of densely packed forest.

  Genie parked up beside the wooden building as instructed, and they all left the car and headed inside.

  The shed was filled with all kinds of farming, gardening, and DIY tools – some of which Chloe stuffed into her bag – and a few dusty tables, chairs, and workbenches. Archie lit a few oil lamps to brighten the place up, while Chloe put her duffel bag onto a table and fished out a small white notebook covered in cute pink cartoon cats.

  “Why you gotta make it look so lame?” Archie groaned in disgust. “Partying Paul always disguised his book as a big-booty porn mag…” he added, reminiscing dreamily.

  “I like cats,” Chloe sneered back. “What’s it to you, anyway?”

  The big Vampire chuckled moronically. “That’s funny, Genie likes pussy too.”

  Both girls let out a pained sigh as Archie continued to laugh at his own joke.

  Chloe placed the notebook onto the centre of the table beside her bag, and it grew and changed colour and shape until it finally resembled a large, leather-bound archaic tome that had endured the ages. The Book Wielder opened it down the middle and gripped the straps of the duffel bag.

  “Remember,” Archie began in a firm voice, “if the Freaks come for you-”

  “Grab the goods before I make a run for it,” Chloe finished in a manner that suggested that she’d had the conversation a dozen times before.

  “What’s a Freak?” Genevieve asked, feeling out of the loop.

  “The humanoid occupants of the Gloom,” Chloe explained. “You saw my pics of them. The creepy puppets and psychotic axe-wielding maniacs.”

  Genevieve couldn’t help but admire the fourteen-year old’s bravery as she spoke about the horrors of the dark dimension, as though facing them was just a part of everyday life. The bravest thing Genie had done at that age was pretending to be older in off-licences so that she could buy light liquor for her and Annabelle’s sleepovers.

  “Oh, well… good luck, then,” Genevieve said, unsure of what to say in the current circumstances.

  “Thanks!” The redhead beamed before she reached for her open book.

  “Remember what I said!” Archie yelled.

  “Go fuck yourself,” Chloe muttered as she hastily placed her hands on the pages.

  Before Archie could retaliate, the girl disappeared into thin air, leaving only a faintly glowing tome behind.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The world around Chloe O’Kelly span until it was an incomprehensible blur of shapes and colours. Then, with a gut-cramping jolt, everything was still again as she materialised in the Gloom, and she fell to her knees and retched on the old rotten wooden flooring. She quickly picked herself off the ground and wiped her mouth clean as she checked for any immediate dangers.

  The shed had been transformed into a neglected, barely stable, creaking shack. It was incredibly dark, but her immobile book radiated a faint golden light from the filthy old table it rested upon and allowed her to make out the contents without using another light source. Chloe had learnt the hard way that the creatures of the Gloom homed in on foreign lights like moths to a flame. The few windows were intact but covered in so much black mould that she couldn’t see out of them, the air was thick with dust and the smell of decay, and the selection of tools now resembled something out of a murderer’s play-pen. Chloe took one glance at the stained instruments of torture and shuddered, for she knew there were Freaks nearby who were wielding much worse.

  It wasn’t the first time Chloe had crossed over at the farm, so she knew the only way to see what awaited her was by peeking out of the door. Batting away a few harmless fluttering green Blightmoths, she crossed the room as lightly as she could with her duffel bag hanging from one of her shoulders. When she reached the moist old door, Chloe reached into the bag and pulled out a big can of hairspray and a disposable lighter. She’d accidentally discovered that things in the Gloom were affected by natural elements more than magical ones, a discovery that was also backed up in Partying Paul’s scribbled journal notes, and it worked out well for her as she was currently terrible at magic.

  Her head poked around the creaking door, and she could hear squawking and screeching. She looked around rapidly; there was nothing threatening in her immediate vicinity, and the dark trees with their multi-coloured leaves were still, so she stepped out into the patchy purple grass and skirted around the edge of the building.

  Fields of black and white crops came into view, along with their demented scarecrow guardians. Their plump fabric heads reminded Chloe of pumpkins, as did their menacingly jovial facial expressions and triangular red eyes, but their dirty material hands ended in scythed fingers and made it clear that they were no laughing matter. They also had a nasty habit of moving silently when they weren’t being watched. Luckily for the young Book Wielder, the creatures were too busy fighting off swarms of skull-faced rotten crows to pay her any attention.

  The Gloom version of the farm house could be seen over the crops and the brutal war between the crows and scarecrows, and the foreboding building’s windows radiated sickly green light from within. Chloe knew that it was either witchlight or witchfire, a common form of magic used by the Freaks, and hoped they were busy on the other side of the farm.

  In the distance she could just about make out the Demon’s tower poking out from the blackened landscape where Fort Dominia would be in the real world. Chloe could just about see the faint orange glow from the building’s barred windows.

  A shiver run through the Book Wielder’s body and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched, which wasn’t uncommon in the Gloom, but the sensation was so intense that Chloe felt as though the air itself was pushing her down. Her gaze lifted above the tip of the tower, up at the curdled hazy purple clouds that made up the Gloom’s sky, and let out a fearful sigh. The clouds had thinned just enough to reveal the black silhouette of a massive floating structure, and for a moment she swore she could see winged creatures diving in and out of the cloud line. Then the clouds quickly thickened, and the overwhelming sensation abated. Chloe exhaled quietly in relief, as the unknown evil force that stirred above the clouds had chosen to disregard her presence, and she was extremely grateful.

  Without wasting any more time, she left the killer scarecrows to sever their avian foes and headed quickly into the dense woodland. Chloe trod carefully to avoid any poisonous mushrooms or snake-like roots, and kept well away from any oversized creepy-crawlies, as they could be just as fatal as the bigger beasts and monsters that dwelled within the weird dimension. She peered upwards at the jagged branches with their assortment of dark-coloured leaves, and looked out for the giant green spiders that often roamed the forest treetops waiting for prey.

  It wasn’t long before Chloe spotted patches of large blue Nightmare Nettles poking out from the dank undergrowth, and she proceeded deeper into the Gloom forest until she found a small clearing that was filled with them.

  She unshouldered her bag, knelt on the floor, and pulled out a pair of thick rubber gloves that reached up to her elbows. She then took out three metal cases to beg
in with, along with the gardening tools she’d borrowed. Chloe had her own snips and scissors, but she thought that the farmer’s equipment would get the job done quicker. She unlatched the cases and attacked the Nightmare Nettle bushes with a pair of gardening shears, always taking great care not to expose her skin to the blue leaves.

  Like the regular nettles in the real world, Nightmare Nettles were covered in tiny barbs that could easily pierce the skin; however, the Gloom equivalent left behind a more extreme rash, and induced violent hallucinations and stomach-emptying sickness. Using Alchemy, the effects of the Nightmare Nettle’s poison could be reversed to create mood-enhancing highs, enjoyable visions, and a craving for snack food, in the form of the widely enjoyed Dreamleaf.

  She stuffed the severed nettles ungracefully into the first case, and had almost filled the second when she heard snapping twigs nearby. Chloe quickly stuffed everything back into the duffel bag and looked around for some place to hide. She spotted a wide crack in a large dead tree and squeezed herself into its empty trunk. Bright red and yellow centipedes the length of her arm scurried around her and out of the opening, and Chloe gave the few that lingered a back-handed slap to get them to crawl away from her. Then she waited in silence to see what was heading her way.

  Within moments a sack-headed humanoid, with pale skin marred with blotchy patches of black decay, marched through the clearing. It held a huge rusty axe in one hand and a green witchfire torch in the other. A large, six-legged dog or wolf with fungi-encrusted, sticky blue fur walked faithfully beside its master, sniffing the air and ground eagerly.

  Chloe cursed her luck, and stopped breathing all together until the Freak and its dog were long gone. When she was satisfied that they were out of earshot, she took a massive gulp of air and carefully left her hiding space.

  She wanted to carry on gathering and leave as soon as possible, but she felt faint, and her muscles were tired and aching. The Gloom had a diminishing effect on human physiology, and those that lingered in the dark dimension too long were never heard of again. The draining effect was supposed to be opposite for Book Wielders that had chosen to become Vampires, Werewolves, or Mages, giving them energy rather than leeching it, but the disappearance rate was strangely even higher than that of their weaker human counterparts.