Visioness

by Lincoln Law

  And then he was gone.

  Adabelle shot up in bed, soaked in sweat, breathing heavy and ragged.

  He knows about Rhene! she thought. He isn’t safe.

  It was morning, sun falling through the window onto the blankets of a sleeping Charlotte. Adabelle glanced over at her cup of Slugleaf tea—the cup that had failed—and burst from her bed. She washed her face, dressed into the closest dress she could find, and marched out into the halls.

  She arrived at Berne Oakley’s office, still bleary eyed and tired. The hour was late in the morning, so students were up and about, and she was sure she’d find the Professor in his office.

  Sure enough she knocked, and his balding head appeared.

  “Miss Blaise,” he said, looking surprised. He glanced down at her cup and then up to her face. “You look…terrible. What’s happened.”

  “The tea failed,” Adabelle said. “It didn’t work. Therron found me in the Dream. He spoke to me. He knows…things. And he’s out to get me. I need to talk to someone about this. Lady Morphier, it seems, has taken her side in this war. Now I need to start making mine. No one’s mind is safe. But I trust you. Can I come in?”

  “Of course,” Berne said, stepping aside to allow her into his messy office.

  She took a seat, not waiting a moment longer to explain everything that had happened. It was nice to offload to another person, as if by sharing her troubles she was sharing a burden, and thereby lightening the load they weighed upon her. She spoke of her father framing her, of him appearing in her dreams, and also of his knowledge of Rhene.

  “He needs me to get him out of the Dream,” she said. “He needs me to release him, and only I can do it. He knows he can’t harm me—of that I’m sure—but he can get to those around me. That’s why he spoke of Rhene. Charlotte is, thankfully, safe, but I cannot protect Rhene. He’s just another person out there, yet somehow Therron has found out about him and has him targeted.” She sighed. “And now the tea isn’t working.”

  “It’s not that it’s not working,” the professor said. “It’s that you need a higher dose of it now. Your body will begin to build a resistance to it, like anything. Have an excess and you’ll only worsen matters. The best thing for you to do right now is to increase the potency.”

  She nodded. “You’re probably the only person I can ask about this. Why would he need me for his…task…whatever it is? Why is he trying to scare me into releasing him from his Dream. I’ve already spoken to Lady Morphier, and I am definitely not a Sturding. I can’t draw him out. We’d both fall into Oblivion together.”

  “Very true, very true,” Professor Berne replied. “You’re certain you’re not a Sturding?” he asked. “You’ve never drawn something from a Dream before, not even accidentally. It’s not unusual to blossom later in life, and you are the daughter of two of the most powerful Somnetii of all time.”

  “Not once ever,” she replied, taking only a moment to think back. If that had ever happened, she would have remembered.

  “Unless he’s mistaken,” Berne said, rubbing his chin. “He’s been stuck in the Dream for so long, one can only assume he might be unaware of certain matters. He might assume that you are a Sturding like he and your mother were. I’m honestly shocked you aren’t, but I suppose odder things have happened.”

  “This is true,” she replied, thinking on all of the aspects that made up these actions of her father’s. The sealing of his sister’s mind, the re-emergence of his presence, the fact that Lady Morphier was being entirely one-sided in her discussion. Adabelle had already decided by now that the lady was surely working for Therron, whether directly or indirectly.

  “While I’m here,” Adabelle continued, “I was just wondering, is it possible to break a mindlock without the key present?”

  “No, sadly,” Berne replied. “A single mind with a key, and a mind as the seal must be in a close vicinity to each other in order for a mind to unlock. The key is released without any control and the mindlock broken.”

  “So Therron would have made sure whoevers mind he placed the key in would not come into contact with Charlotte too easily.”

  “This is true,” Berne said. “Without that, you can bang and thump and smash against the mind with the seal over it as much as you want. You’d never break through.” He seemed to hesitate at that, as if he knew in his heart-of-hearts that wasn’t entirely true. There were exceptions to every rule; she supposed it was the same with Dreaming.

  “Well I must go, then,” Adabelle said. “I’ve got a lot of thinking to do.”

  He seemed taken aback by the swiftness of her visit. He soon recovered from his confusion, and smiled at her.

  “Good day,” Berne said, sinking into his chair. “And good luck.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Fire on the Horizon

  Rhene sent flowers to Adabelle three days following their date at the carnival. They were yellow ones, chosen specially for the colour of the dress she had worn on their first night together. She replied in kind with a telegram thanking him for them, and also for Charlotte’s stag.

  The thank you letter brought a great smile to his face, and made it difficult for him to fault anything for the rest of the day.

  That night, though, while he slept, he slipped into the dream and found the familiar music and scent warning of Therron’s coming. Heart racing, suddenly panicked, the world around him shifted and he was at the centre of a long, thin hall. A single, flickering light hung above him, golden in its glow, yet so narrow in its reach. His eyes pierced through the darkness, yet all he saw were more shadows, more darkness.

  The scent intensified, choking him from the blackness. Then, the music screamed, and Rhene knew he could not run.

  Sure enough, he appeared, calmly, stepping out of the shadows of Rhene’s own mind.

  “Good evening, Rhene,” he said, his tone jovial.

  “Therron,” Rhene replied, calming his breathing, assuaging those thoughts that seemed so content to remind him that the man held a knife.

  “How are you?” Therron asked.

  “I’m fine, thank you,” Rhene replied, bracing himself. “And you?”

  “Well I’m quite exhausted actually,” he replied. Rhene then realised the man was puffing. Smoke tinted the odour of cologne. Rhene thought he was only imagining the smell, but as he sniffed, he found that choking smell growing worse as it mixed with the cologne. Therron’s trousers appeared stained with ash. “Been quite busy tonight.”

  “Causing trouble, no doubt,” Rhene replied. The Dreamer’s Lullaby seemed to have calmed a little, but replacing it was another sound. This wasn’t music, though, but noise. Rhene couldn’t quite make it out, yet, but he kept his mind open, hoping to decode its meaning before long.

  “As always, my dear boy,” he replied, smiling. “That’s all done, now. I’ve come to speak to you.”

  Rhene stepped back, surprised. “What for?”

  “To thank you, my boy,” he replied, stepping forward. He did not hold a knife anymore. It just disappeared. But Rhene knew it was there somewhere. He resisted recoiling.

  Be strong, he reminded himself.

  “You were able to get the information I needed out of your master, Dreamless Matthon! I know what I need now. You’ve done a brilliant job!”

  Rhene couldn’t help but smile. He felt a strangely freeing sensation, as if a weight on his heart had released itself.

  “So I’m free now?” he asked. “You won’t bother me?”

  “Oh, God, no!” Therron replied. “Our little…partnership has only just begun. You are far too useful to me to simply use and toss aside. No, no, no, I have my uses for you. I know a vague time for the battle, but no specifics yet. You did well recognising my presence in your master’s mind, and also concealing it. I thank you for that. The results would have been catastrophic had you revealed my hiding place. Very catastrophic indeed.”

  Rhene’s muscles tensed. “Then what use do you have for me now?”


  He smiled broadly. Therron’s grin, like an alligator, seemed to show far too many teeth and unveiled a kind of malevolence hidden below. Rhene’s heart stopped.

  “Well from my understanding, you know my daughter, Adabelle, quite well.”

  Rhene could not hide his shock.

  “Ah, you do. Excellent. Now she is currently in a tiny spot of trouble at the University.”

  Rhene’s eyes narrowed. “What sort of trouble?”

  “Oh, lots of trouble, really. Trouble with the police. They think she killed her cousin, when in fact it was me, and I was able to frame her.”

  He spoke so casually. So carelessly.

  “She’s in trouble with me, of course, but specifically she is in a rather dangerous situation right now. I think she might need some help, and I cannot personally be of assistance. You see, I put her into this trouble, but she might need some help getting out. Think of this…as a test. I have to insure you’re good enough for her.” He laughed at his own jest, the humour apparently lost on Rhene.

  “What have you done to her?”

  Therron remained calm. “Might I suggest you head to the rooftop and look for yourself. Shouldn’t be too hard to see really, given the hour.”

  Rhene leapt from within the Dream, emerging out into his room. He shot through the door, running like a bullet up the hallway and ascended the nearest flight of stairs he could find.

  What has he done? he thought as he ran. What has he got planned?

  He burst onto the rooftop, rushing to the edge facing the University.

  Fire on the horizon, burning like a great halo of scarlet above a city in darkness.

  How has he managed that? he thought as he stared in horror, heart racing, mind reeling as he searched for a way to get there. If he ran, he wouldn’t get there in time, and he doubted there would be taxis at this hour.

  I have to Dream my way there, he thought. You’re a Sturding. You’ve got these powers for a reason. Now use them!

  He searched for the nearest mind he could leap into. It was across the courtyard before him. A woman, sleeping peaceably, dreaming deeply. He pushed himself towards her mind, yet could not reach.

  She’s the nearest and she’s too far away. He swore loudly, eyes passing between the woman’s open window and the growing blaze. The whole city began to ring clamorously as the fire brigade commenced their response. And yet the entire University burned as if it had been alight for hours. Surely it hadn’t taken that long to respond.

  Therron has his ways, he thought, and left it at that. The pressing issue now was reaching that window. Or at least close enough to enter the woman’s mind. She mustn’t have taken her Slugleaf tea that night. He could fold in on his own mind if he was sleeping, but that would take too long.

  I have to do this, he thought. I have to make it, for Adabelle.

  He drew backwards, away from the ceiling, breathing deeply in and out. The gap between him and the window was probably ten metres or so. Surely taking into account a run up, and the leap from a higher point, he would get close enough to the window to throw himself, body and all, into the Dream Frequencies.

  Adabelle, he kept reminding himself. Adabelle. Yet a more logical part of his mind told him he was an idiot for trying.

  The stupid things we do for love, he thought. He breathed out, and then sprinted for the ceiling’s edge. The edge ran up to meet him, and with a grunt and a yelp, he pushed off the roof and into the open air above the courtyard. For a second, he hung there, believing for a moment that he’d made a huge mistake. He was going to fall to his death, or at the very least end up with another set of broken bones.

  But he felt his mind reach out, tendrils of thought grabbing for the mind of the woman he relied on. At first, those links were only weak, furtive and hesitant. But then they recognised the mortal peril, and their reaches became grasps, their caresses outright embraces.

  For a moment, it seemed he would strike the wall. He threw out his hands to protect his face, closing his eyes, accepting the fact that he was going to die.

  And then the mental links snapped together, like a padlock into place, and he was connected. He felt his body hang in the air for a moment, a sudden bout of whiplash sending a mighty snap of pain up his body. But then it was gone and he was in the Dream.

  A field of poppies flew up to meet him, and he collapsed into the soft earth, the scent of the flowers carried on the wind. He felt a sudden bout of energy, the adrenaline of the leap coursing through him. He forgot the whiplash, forgot the pain of his face planting itself into the ground, and got up.

  The dreaming woman looked at him, confused at the appearance of this man who’d come crashing from the sky. All the precursors in the world wouldn’t prepare anyone for that.

  Adabelle, he reminded himself. I have to find Adabelle.

  He ran.

  Dreamer to dreamer, he leapt, crossing minds, the thoughts of others. He felt the direction in which he needed to run, sensing a mass where no one slept. It was a great dark patch in his consciousness, and it drew him.

  Be safe, he thought, extending his mind towards that dark hole. I’m coming. Just wait.

  Adabelle forgot to take the Slugleaf tea before bed and found herself Dreaming.

  Her father was waiting for her when she arrived.

  “Good evening, Adabelle,” he said, nodding, tipping his hat at her.

  “Father,” she replied, taking an uncertain glance about the place. It was indeed her own mind she stood in now, her room a familiar sight. She attempted to leap out of the dream, but found herself stuck.

  “No, no, don’t run,” he said, holding out an open hand. She didn’t know why, but she stopped herself. “I only wish to see you.”

  “How do you know Rhene?” she asked.

  “I have my connections here and there,” he replied. “He just happened to pop up one night while dreaming. He’s been far more useful than I think he realises.”

  “In what way has he been useful?” asked Adabelle. “What have you done with him?”

  “Oh I’ve done nothing with him,” he replied. “He’s done a few tasks for me. He’s a good boy, that one. Be sure to stay in touch, you have my approval.” He smiled.

  “I don’t need your approval,” she replied. “You’re hardly what I’d consider a good father.”

  Therron grimaced. “You hurt me! I have done all I can from my prison in the Dream. Besides, I have come with gifts.”

  Adabelle tensed, eyes narrowing. She had to be ready.

  “What gifts?” she asked.

  “These,” he replied.

  From behind him burst three shadows, shapeless and bodiless for a time. Then, when they landed on the ground before Therron, they took the form of her father. Three of them before her, all staring with gazes as malevolently gleeful as each other.

  Adabelle screamed, taking a step backward. Nhyxes, she thought.

  “Strike, Nhyxes,” Therron said.

  The nightmares leapt at Adabelle like a cat to their prey. As they shifted, they returned to their shadowy forms, not fully able to hold a material shape. Another two emerged from within the Dream, throwing themselves at Adabelle. She turned to run, and found another one. Six Nhyxes, all before her, all holding her in place.

  “Be safe,” her father said, turning away. As he did so, the Nhyxes caught aflame. It seemed none of them could feel it, though, for they did not scream. They also didn’t retain their forms as her father. They returned to their shadow forms, their limbs like branches, their bodies pointed like arrows, their heads spiked with black. A thin mist of darkness swirled around them, mixing with the gold and orange flames.

  She finally found the strength within her to return to the physical world. She pulled herself from the dream, yet as she did, the Nhyxes gripped her limbs and travelled with her.

  She smacked onto her bed, surrounded by six flaming beasts. They roared, their voices a high-pitched wail, like nails down a board. And then there were the fla
mes that ripped at the sheets of her bed tore at the wood of the wall. The Nhyxes leapt about the small room, spreading fire throughout.

  Charlotte screamed, and in the confusion, Adabelle lost track of where she was. She wasn’t in her bed, for that now blazed. Where was she? The room filled with smoke, obscuring the darkness. She heard a door burst open, and watched as five of the six Nhyxes charged down the hall, throwing fire upon the carpet, up the walls. The shadows of their bodies turned golden, glowing with the heat of the inferno, and then they were gone. The sixth one leapt out the window, smashing glass. Like molten stone, their bodies shimmered and crackled with a brilliant heat.

  “Charlotte! Run!” Adabelle roared.

  As it leapt, though, its arm struck Adabelle in the head, throwing her back into darkness, the flames forever burning about her.

  Screams echoed up the halls, as people emerged from their bedrooms, awoken by the fire. It spread so quickly, moving from one part of the university to the next, carried by the Nhyxes.

  Rhene stepped out of a person’s mind and into the chaos of the burning University.

  “Adabelle!” he screamed, stepping out into the blazing hallway. People ran all around him, running through flames as if they felt no pain. Their clothes burned, their hair burned, their bodies reddening from the heat. The sounds of screaming blasted him, a crushing wave of human terror.

  It washed upon him in blasts, heat pushing against him, throwing him backwards.

  “Adabelle!” he roared again, running up the hallway, attempting to avoid the fires. But they were everywhere; impossible to avoid.

  “Help!” came a familiar voice, a short way further up the hall. The door was open, the flames high, yet from behind it he could make out a small girl’s face.

  “Charlotte!” he screamed, running ahead, through the flames and into the room.

  Charlotte was crying, her hands shaking, her legs bent with weakness.

  “Adabelle’s there,” she said, pointing to the floor, where her sister lay. No flames touched her yet, but she was out cold, her eyes closed.