Dreamonologist

by Gregory Pettit

  “So, Master Brown. I had the strangest dream last night, which I was hoping to share with you.”

  Brown pursed his lips and nodded.

  “I dreamed that there was something in the cemetery. In Hanwell, not far from my house. It was a big, wax disk—it was glowing?” I had spent a fair amount of time coming up with this lie. I thought that I could get him talking about the Sigilum, then after he’d explained the background to me, I’d try to get him to explain the ritual. Once I had that, then I’d see about Mia’s information. It would be good to get the Sons on my side; taking down Sloane would be much easier with their help.

  “What have you done with the real Julian Adler?” Brown asked.

  Shit.

  Instead of coming up with a convincing dodge, my brain froze, and all I could think was, Won’t the real Julian Adler please stand up, please stand up…

  “Answer,” Brown demanded, his face an icy mask.

  I decided to ignore my original idiocy. “What are you talking about? I am Julian A…a…ACK!” I finished with a scream as every muscle in my body suddenly locked up and I toppled to the floor. Shag carpet. Nice.

  I was surprised that Brown had had enough extradimensional energy to blast me like that—as a sorcerer, he was all brains, no brawn when it came to the supernatural, but a moment later my question was answered as he held up a Taser and withdrew the prongs from my side. “Would you like to try telling me the truth this time?” Brown said, his face filling my vision as he leaned down to me.

  I had a few options at this point: I could keep trying to lie, I could try out the truth, or I could try using force. Lying hadn’t worked so far, as evidenced by my twitching limbs, and if I tried to tap into the Dreamscape to flee or overpower Brown, then I’d end up passing out, with or without the information I needed, and I might miss my theoretical return window. The truth it was, then. Or at least a version of the truth. If there was one thing I’d learned as a negotiator, it was that the best way to get someone to trust you is to tell them the truth they expect to hear.

  “You’re a dead man, Brown,” I growled through gritted teeth, only half for effect. Getting Tasered hurt.

  “Threats won’t get you anywhere,” Brown said, backing up and lifting the Taser again.

  I gritted my teeth and shook my head in negation, then spoke: “In my reality, that is. Mia didn’t let you sacrifice her. You taught her too well, and we succeeded in stopping you. Permanently,” I added as quickly as I could. Once again—Tasers hurt.

  Brown’s eyes widened in surprise for a few heartbeats, and he rocked back on his heels. Happily, he also put the Taser down. Then the sonofabitch kicked me right in the nuts. I’d love to be able to describe that pain, but thankfully I passed the fuck out at that point. When I came to a minute or two later, I was propped up in a metal folding chair, my nether regions sore, but not debilitatingly so.

  “What the hell…” I rasped.

  “I’d like to tell you that my actions were a well-established method for checking whether you were a shapeshifter or disguised by some kind of enchantment, but really it was just the reaction that I have to anyone who tells me that they helped kill me,” Brown said, sitting with a smile back behind his desk.

  “That happen a lot?” I snarked, apparently deciding I wasn’t in enough pain at the moment.

  “More than you’d expect,” Brown chuckled in reply. Smashing my testicles really had seemed to greatly improve his mood. I wasn’t surprised. It happened more than you’d expect. “While you were indisposed, I checked you for identifying marks. The only reason that I didn’t kill you is because you are most definitely within the same body as the Julian Adler that I know. However, beyond that, I know nothing about you. You could be any of half a hundred types of extradimensional entity. Why don’t you tell me how you got here?”

  Pain-sweat trickled into my eyes as my stomach throbbed, and I spoke without thinking of the consequences. “Henry. He swapped me in.” My guts turned to ice as I realized that I’d revealed information to Brown that would almost surely get this reality’s Henry into trouble.

  Brown’s eyes lit up. “Ahh…yes, I can see how that could be made to work. Especially with Mia’s help. That lends some credence to your story,” Brown said, glancing at a picture frame on his desk. “What can you tell me to convince me that I shouldn’t lock you up right now—or worse?”

  Brown’s words made me think of Mia’s request. I had been nervous about discussing the geas on the basis that it might give me away, but as that bird had definitely flown the coop, I might be able to turn it to my advantage. “Mia gave me a message for you,” I said. Brown steepled his fingers and leaned forward fractionally. “I was to tell you ‘The threads binding Peter are fraying, and your little bunny is in trouble, the wolf is at the door.’” I stared at John Brown expectantly. He didn’t move a muscle, but his face went whiter than an albino in a bleach factory.

  “Tell her that the control phrase is ‘Olani hoath ol,’” he replied, sinking back into his seat, looking like he’d aged ten years in the last ten minutes. “I don’t think she’d tell you that under duress, so I’m forced to accept that at the very least you know her. I don’t know if you’re Julian Adler, but that isn’t really important. What is important is whether or not I answer your question. But first, I want to hear the whole story of how I died and why you need the artifact.”

  I knew the clock was ticking; I didn’t have time to humor Brown. “If I don’t get the Sigilum soon, over four dozen vampires are going to turn London into a bloodbath in a few hours.”

  “In that case, I suggest that you speak quickly.”

  Okay, so he had me over a barrel. I spent the next twenty minutes sweating at the delay and telling Brown the most abridged possible version of our antagonistic escapades last fall. In keeping with my previous plan, I played up Mia’s part, but maybe I didn’t do it well enough.

  “You, Mr. Adler—and I am convinced now that you are a Julian Adler—are much, much more capable than your erstwhile counterpart in this reality. He came crawling to my agent, Father O’Hanrahan, at the first sign of the puca, and we used him as bait. Thirty people died in the head-on assault before we could slay the foul creature. When I dispatched Mammon, he accompanied me immediately when Father O. suggested it. He babysat Olivia while I used her as a magical battery to help fuel the ritual in which I sacrificed my daughter. You, on the other hand, weren’t passive. You tried to conceal your skill while you were telling your story, but it didn’t work,” Brown said, a strange light dancing behind his eyes.

  I wasn’t sure where this was going, so I used a favorite negotiating skill and just nodded, letting the other person ramble and reveal information.

  “I’m not sure I can believe everything you said, but if what you claim about your current abilities is true, then you are an incredibly versatile young man. I could use someone like you. I will make you a deal. If you consider staying here, I will tell you about the ritual. Half now, half after you have considered,” he said.

  “Okay,” I said, and then paused. “Considered. Not staying.”

  “We both know that that isn’t what I meant. I’ll tell you the first part of the ritual now, and then I’ll take you home to see Dana and Olivia. Decide after you’ve seen them,” he said. I breathed in sharply. I’d known that my wife and daughter were likely whole and well here, but I’d tried to ignore that prospect on the basis that time was of the essence. Brown was forcing me to face that sweet, sweet temptation head on. I swallowed and nodded. The deal was done. I just wasn’t sure which one.

  Brown smiled like the cat that had gotten the cream. “Excellent. Now, you may be wondering why no one else had been able to identify the location of the artifact, and I’ll start by giving you that. The thing is, I included everyone involved in the ritual—Cooper, my apprentice, a couple of attuned—in a little side spell. None of us can say the name of the item, nor can we remember where it is or even what it looks like. It was
a superlatively delicate working, lasting almost ten hours. As long as the item isn’t moved, the spell stays in place.” I nodded my understanding (stretching that word a bit), and Brown added, “The good news for you is that reestablishing the ritual in the same spot will only take a few minutes. The bad news is that your cack-handed removal of the artifact from there will have damaged it. The item will be destroyed if it is ever moved again after the ritual.”

  “Why did you put it in Kensington and Chelsea Cemetery originally?” I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me, knowing that no version of John Brown could resist the opportunity to tell someone how clever he was.

  “Ahh…is that where it is? No matter, I’ll forget soon enough, but I’d have thought that would be obvious, after your studies. Perhaps Mia needs to work on her teaching abilities. Well, that’s simple enough thaumaturgically. The artifact needed to be in an old cemetery to have a connection to the place where the vampires are interred. The artifact also needed to be hidden, and the cemetery that I used is not where it is supposed to be. It is in Hanwell, nearly ten miles from its home borough. Therefore, if you want to hide something, put it where it shouldn’t be,” he finished with a smug little smile. He proceeded to show me a series of runes necessary to contain the Sigilum’s power until the ritual was complete. When I was able to reproduce them half a dozen times without mistake, Brown patted me on the back. “Do you have any more questions? I can answer them on our way to your house.”

  “Of course,” I echoed. “Why did you leave Cooper to rot for so long?”

  “Simple—I failed. I tried a hundred different ways to free his colleagues, but none of them worked. There were many pressing matters in the real world, and I only had so much time to devote to any one cause, no matter how good.” Great, shoddy evil—my favorite kind.

  A few minutes later, Brown climbed into the driver’s seat of a big, black Mercedes-Benz and swept us through the City, passing empty buildings, garbage-strewn streets, and Big Issue sellers. This was what I’d saved London from. In my world, Mammon had been banished from the area, but he wasn’t dead, and it looked like the fallout had been much more severe here. “Was it worth it? You killed Mammon, didn’t you? Is it everything that you hoped it would be? Are people happier now?” I asked, looking at the suffering that Brown’s actions had caused; anger at his callousness burned in my chest, making me grit my teeth.

  “They’re free. I thought an American like you would agree with me. Wasn’t it one of your founding fathers who said ‘Those who would give up essential Liberty, to purchase a little temporary Safety deserve neither Liberty nor Safety.’”

  I shook my head. “Have you ever seen a skinny picture of Benjamin Franklin? Shit, they put the guy on the hundred-dollar bill,” I snapped.

  “Touché,” Brown said, sneering. “What I did needed to be done. The world is balanced on a knife’s edge. There is a very narrow path leading to safety, and Mammon’s presence blocked that path. Cauterizing a wound hurts but can be necessary to stop the rot.”

  We both sat in silence for the next several minutes. I tried to keep my anger under control by thinking about what I was about to see. We pulled onto Windmill Lane in Greenford just before seven thirty in the evening. The sun was still shining high in the sky this close to the solstice, but all of the houses were bustling with the motions of families settling in for the evening: tables being laid, televisions being switched on, and work clothes being shed. Including at my house. Brown parked just outside of the building that, in my reality, I’d called my own until it had “mysteriously” burned down while I’d tried to stop the puca. I thought for a moment about asking Brown what had happened to the witches from OMG in this world, but then they walked in front of the big picture window that faced the street from the living room.

  A woman with long, brown hair carried a smiling three-year-old on her hip. The little girl had a stuffed pink cartoon pony in her hand, and her blond pigtails bounced as she tried to climb her mother. The sight of Dana and Olivia together slammed into me like a punch from the Incredible Hulk, making my head spin and lights flash in front of my eyes. I couldn’t breathe.

  “This could be yours. You could have all of this. Your house, your family. You’ve walked a difficult path. Don’t you deserve this? There’s so much good you could do here, Julian,” Brown said, his voice even and calm, like he tried to convince reality-hopping visitors to sign up for Team Brown every day. It was tempting—until Dana turned side on, and I saw her stomach. Her flat stomach.

  “No.”

  “Is that your final answer?” Brown asked, a tone of regret tinging his voice.

  “It sure is, Regis,” I replied, looking away from the source of my temptation. I had something in my eye.

  “Very well. Tell Mia that no matter what, I always loved her, and tell her that I’m sure that she can fix my mistake with the geas.” He then explained the rest of the ritual to rebind the vampires: “…and when the artifact is glowing like a coal in a forge, you need a blood sacrifice.”

  “What?” I exclaimed.

  “Oh, the sacrifice doesn’t have to die, it just has to be blood. Also, the sacrifice has to have a reasonable thaumaturgic connection to the being or beings that you are trying to affect. Once that is all done, you issue your commands and break the circle, and the ritual is complete. You’ll have control of whatever entity you’ve specified,” Brown finished.

  I wasn’t sure whether or not I could trust Brown, but I didn’t have any choice, and if I didn’t get back to my world in the next hour or so, then this whole gambit would have been a waste. “Can you take me back to Highgate Cemetery?” I asked. Brown nodded and pulled the car out into traffic. I craned my neck for one last look at Olivia, remembering a time in my life when I’d been able to fix all of her problems just by holding her in my arms and stroking her little blond head. This little girl was fine. I needed to make mine safe again.

  “I will be interested to speak to the other Mr. Adler when he comes back. I wonder if he will take any learnings away from his little visit. What were you planning to do with him?” Brown asked. I wasn’t sure what information he was fishing for, but I stonewalled the murderous kidnapping psychopath on principle.

  “I brought him a Harry Potter book,” I replied. Rebuffed, Brown fished for more information.

  “Have you discovered why Sloane wants to let the vampires out?”

  “No. I’ve just seen it in my dreams. He has something against Cooper. Maybe he’s trying to hurt him,” I replied.

  A knowing smile touched Brown’s lips. “Ahh…I’m sure it’s something like that.”

  I shivered. The sun was starting to dip toward the horizon as we pulled into a parking space near the grand graveyard. That didn’t make me shiver. Draw your own conclusions about John Brown from that.

  “I’ll be coming with you,” Brown said. “To help the other you deal with the impact of being abducted. If I knew of a way to do it without punishing him, you’d be spending a good, long while as my personal guest. But I owe Julian, so getting you out of here is my way of paying him back.”

  I once again didn’t have a choice, so instead I found a low spot in the wall and made my way into the cemetery. We’d chosen an area of the east cemetery near the entrance, so it only took me a couple of minutes to find the right spot, which was good since I only had about twenty minutes left until my allies tried to open the return portal. It felt like I should expect GLaDOS to pop up any moment. Brown attempted to engage me in more conversation, but I got the feeling that he was trying to wheedle some specific information out of me, and I didn’t trust him. It’s one of my guiding principles to distrust anyone who tries to sacrifice my kid.

  Finally, as the clock read 20:55, Brown said something that I couldn’t ignore. “I’ve told you how to use the artifact to reestablish the spell to contain Mr. Cooper’s colleagues. But aren’t you curious about how you can use it to help your unborn child?” His words made my heart race, and my
head snapped up. I had avoided mentioning anything about the problems with Dana’s scans. “Your story had gaps. You wouldn’t be willing to take these risks without a personal stake. Then I saw how you looked at Dana when she turned side on. You immediately decided you weren’t staying. One doesn’t become a sorcerer of my power without keen powers of observation.”

  “Yeah, you did a great job of observing things when you sprouted a few extra eyes in my reality,” I said, needling him but also thinking of the fact that he hadn’t been observant enough to know that my mother was still alive.

  “Ah, yes. I can see that this world will be losing a great wit when you depart. But I’ll cut to the chase: if you want this information that will benefit only you, then I’ll need something from you in return,” Brown said.

  I thought of my mental jab of a moment before. “I have information about one of your enemies,” I said, glancing down at the phone. I only had two minutes.

  Brown knew he had me, and he spent at least thirty seconds pondering. “Yes. If you give me information of value, then I will make the trade. I swear it.”

  “My mother is alive.”

  “Liar!” Brown’s shout echoed, bouncing off the nearby grave markers in a monumental cacophony.

  “She was instrumental in your death, and not just because her experiment was successful,” I goaded, gesturing down at my black-clad form like Vanna White showing off a prize.

  Brown took a deep breath and mastered himself. “Fine. You can help your child using the same ritual. You just need a few drops of Dana’s blood, and then call the name of the child. Order the child to be well and whole. Oh—and don’t forget, you only get one use of the artifact.”