by Jaymin Eve
I looked at Lucy. She had the same ‘oh shit’ expression as I had. Longevity of inhabitants – unknown. But one thing confirmed. Despite my feeling, I knew for certain we were no longer on Earth. Dreamland was Grandier, with the apparent nickname of First World.
Deralick straightened, his features creased in worry.
I distracted him with a subject change. “I’m Abby and this is Lucy.”
Lucy waved, her blond hair sticking out in all directions, some type of dirt caked along her forehead, along with a light scrape on her right cheek. But she still had that sweet trusting face. Her deceptive looks were handy.
I shoved the tray back to the end of the bed. As I rubbed the bridge of my nose to release some sinus pressure, I realized the pounding head pain was back again.
Attempting to gather my woolly thoughts, I spoke without thinking. “I’m here to find dreamland. And my mother.”
Did I just say dreamland? I shook my head in an attempt to clear it.
Deralick stood and retrieved the tray from where it was haphazardly flung at the end of the bed.
I sank back into the pillows.
“Something is happening – ” Lucy words were slightly slurred, then without warning she collapsed into the pillow.
He stopped in the doorway. “I hope you can understand. I have a job and I take it seriously. Whether I believe you or not, I have no choice but to report all intruders for assessment.”
I waited for panic – or any emotion – but nothing.
“You’ll be interrogated by the royal council. If they find you innocent, you’ll be free to go.”
I was slipping further into unconsciousness.
With my last functioning neurons came a flash of realization: the stew had been drugged. Well, that was rude – if you can’t trust strangers bearing food, who can you trust?
“It’s only laven juice. It won’t harm you. In fact, you’ll have a restful, healing sleep,” he said as he exited the room.
Well, at least we weren’t dying – a faint shimmer of relief before I drifted off.
The dreams hit me fast. I was standing in the throne room of a castle. People were collapsing all around me, crying, begging and clinging to one another. I walked through the white marble hall unnoticed, seeing nothing to cause such chaos. I made my way up to the large chairs and stopped at the centre pedestal. Resting on top was a purple pillow cushioning a pair of intertwined stones. One was my blue stone with a smaller red one sitting perfectly in its large side indent.
The royal pair.
The room disappeared. I found myself standing at the base of a black mountain. It took me a few minutes to figure out why everything looked so dark. It was all dead. Withered black plant tendrils curled around my boots. I shuddered; even in the dream, an oily darkness coated the air. My instincts were telling me to run, to leave, and never return. The world started to move in fast-forward, swirling before me. Backing up, I tried to escape, moving and falling ...
At that moment, I regained control of my consciousness. As I sat up, my eyes flew open. A low light threaded the room.
Lucy was still asleep, or passed out.
But I knew, instinctively, we needed to escape from here now.
Reaching over, I shook Lucy a few times, with the same result as the night before: there was no movement, just deep breathing.
I looked left and right. A large opaque jug sat on top of a small nightstand. Reaching over, I grabbed the vessel. Water splashed over the side, onto my hand. Feeling a little desperate, I flicked some drops at Lucy. She didn’t stir. Looking down at the jug, I sighed, before dumping the lot over her head.
“What ... where ... what the hell?” she muttered, sitting up quickly.
Her eyes were wide, but with the haze of sleep. She wrinkled her nose before sneezing loudly, and then she fell straight back into the pillows.
Oh, for the love of ... “Get up, Lucy. We need to get out of here before Mr. ‘Drug-pimp’ hands us over to the guards.”
One eye squinted as she shook her head a few times, water droplets flying off in all directions. Pulling herself up to sit, she eventually opened both eyes. It took a moment before she turned to me calmly.
“Abby ... there’d better be an outrageously good reason for why I’m wet?”
I shrugged, trying to nudge the jug off the bed. “I have no idea why; you were like that when I woke.”
Lucy closed her eyes. “Do not kill Abby ... she’s your only friend.”
I laughed in a loud rasp, almost choking on that unexpected comment.
She opened her eyes. Her answering smile was not nice.
“So, speaking of killing ... Deralick ... I’m going to kill him when he comes back to the room.” I decided reminding her of our common enemy was a good distraction.
“I’ll help you hide the body.” Lucy attempted to run her hands through her wet, ragged curls.
I laughed again.
One of her hands was completely entangled. It took many attempts and a few torn chunks of blond strands before it was freed.
I snorted at her second attempt to tame the mane. “My recommendation – shave your head.”
“I probably wouldn’t give ‘recommendations’ until you check your own reflection,” she said smugly.
Her hair was so tousled now it stuck completely out on the right side.
“So, quick question – did you have some whacked-out dreams last night?” Her eyes widened in horror. “I was locked in this freaky old-fashioned cell. There were people everywhere – some dead – dying. It was grisly.”
I shook my head. “That’s comforting; bet you can’t wait to sleep tonight.” Jumping off the bed, I stretched my limbs. Despite the drugging, I felt great. I had no aches or pains from yesterday. “I did have some pretty vivid dreams, but nothing like that.”
I pushed the black mountains from my thoughts. They were wrong and it would take many therapy sessions to delve into that one.
Lucy shuddered. “It barely felt like dreaming. I was there; the emotions were real and raw. I could smell the sweat and that salty tang of blood.”
I gagged at her graphic words.
She shook it off, her pixie features relaxing back into their usual cheeky grin. “Never mind, it was just a dream.” She hopped off the bed. “So what’s the plan? I’m not waiting around to be handed over like common criminals. Firstly, I’m anything but common. And, secondly, I need to brush my teeth. Urgently.”
I ran my tongue around my mouth. Deralick’s drug had left a powdery residue like a skin over my teeth.
I nodded my agreement. “Let’s get out of here. We’ll just have to forget our packs. If we can make a break for it, just go.”
The only important thing I had was the stone, and either it had already been confiscated or Deralick, with all his rules, would send it back to the castle.
I moved toward the space where I remembered the doorway had been. There was just a blank wall.
“Where the hell is the door?” Lucy was next to me, running her hands along the wall.
“It was open last night.” I squinted, but there wasn’t even a join to indicate a doorway ever existed.
I hesitated at a low whirring sound. A split second later, the wall disappeared, like a panel sliding out of the way.
An automatic door that vanished somewhere into the wall cavity.
Expecting to see Deralick, I gasped at the person filling the space.
Lucy stepped close to whisper in my ear. “Oh. My. Hotness.”
I spun around, stunned at the burst of rage flooding me.
He is not yours, Abby. Step back, Miss Bitch.
Someone needed to slap me.
Brace, his expression serious, stood with his arms crossed across his broad chest. Even in my astonishment, I still found a moment to revel in his fallen-angel beauty. What was he doing here?
From the corner of my mouth, I mumbled, “Brace.”
Lucy’s mouth dropped open and, stepping back
, she craned her head for a better look. She was incorrigible.
“I figured that one of the two ‘unusually’ accented females my father found wandering the forest was probably you.” His features softened slightly as he smiled.
“Deralick’s your father?” There was absolutely no family resemblance.
He nodded.
Lucy smiled. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you.” She looked at me. “Abby told me about colliding with you in the forest.”
“Did Abby also tell you that she disappeared? Into nothing.”
He was glaring at me – locking me in the intense stare of his amazing eyes. It was always like this, whether in dreams or weird alley teleportations. The chemistry between us just about brought me to my knees. And it always took my breath away.
Lucy interrupted our intense stare-off, allowing me a few ragged breaths.
“Been there, done that. Abby will give you gray hair. Trust me.” She flicked her blond hair, as if to prove her point.
Striving for a pretence of normality, I kept my eyes off his gorgeous face, and away from his stupidly captivating eyes. That way I could speak and breathe.
“Alright, if you two can resist the Abby-bashing, maybe we should get out of here.”
“Why are you here, Brace?” Lucy asked before I could step around her.
He turned to answer Lucy, and once again I was drawn in. Despite Quarn’s warning, it was hard to defy the magnetic pull.
I ran my eyes over him. He was dressed for the outdoors: a short-sleeved, fitted shirt and army-style pants. In shades of black and dark green, the material looked expensive.
I shook my head.
You don’t know him.
Brace could be as stupid and shallow as he was breathtaking.
He was still speaking, so with effort I stopped perving and focused on the conversation.
“... from patrolling last night, and talked to Father,” Brace explained to Lucy.
His eyes flicked in my direction as he smiled knowingly.
I rolled my eyes. No way could he know I hadn’t been paying attention.
“He does believe your story of being lost, but he’s responsible; he’ll hand you over to the royal guards.” He sighed, running his hand through his dark hair.
It looked slightly longer than he generally wore it. As if he was due for a cut, but hadn’t gotten around to it yet. I liked it much better than the military style he sometimes sported during our dreams.
He turned a bothered gaze toward me. “I’m not confident of the royal guard at this time. So I’m about to cause some real trouble.”
“Forgive us if we don’t exactly trust you or your father.” I shrugged, reminding my traitorous heart – he’s a stranger. “Probably something to do with being drugged last night.”
Lucy nodded. “Exactly! Just because you’re standing there stupidly tall and unnaturally gorgeous, flashing those dimples and muscles, doesn’t mean we’re going to fall at your feet –”
I put my hand over Lucy’s mouth, muffling the last few words.
“Sorry, Lucy’s missing an essential filter between brain and mouth. I try to stand within arm’s reach, because there’s no ‘off’ switch.”
He smiled. “Reminds me of Lucas. Someone should look into an off switch for them both.”
He peered out the door.
His voice was now slightly muffled. “So we need to leave. Father was out on patrol but he’ll be back soon.” He shrugged, facing us. “I’ll accompany you to town. I might be breaking you out, but I better make sure you don’t cause any trouble.”
I sighed; someone save me from bossy control freaks.
I looked at Lucy. “I say we trust him for now. We can ditch him later.”
“You know I’m standing right here.” His brow furrowed over the velvety brown of his eyes.
Lucy ignored him. “Tell me you’re using your brain for this decision, Abbs. Remember what Quarn said.”
Brace reacted minutely at the mention of this. Or I may have imagined it. Either way, it felt like it was time to remind him who he was dealing with.
I stood to my full height, hands firmly on my hips. “Don’t mess with us, Brace. Lucy is super talented with a razor and glue gun.”
Lucy nodded. “That’s right; your eyebrows will never be the same again.” She smiled. “And with that threat hanging over your head, let’s go, gorgeous.” And she sauntered past him out the door.
As I watched him follow her I realized something. Which, if asked, I’d deny until the ends of time – I wanted him around.
Also, I was determined to figure out his secret. And why he, of all people, ended up in my dreams.
Shaking his head, Brace paused in the hall. He nodded toward two familiar packs on the floor.
“I retrieved your bags. Father said he didn’t go through them, so everything should be there.”
Dropping beside my pack, I furtively checked for the stone. Everything was in its place.
“Thank god he didn’t touch my shoes.” Lucy had a pair in each hand, her favorite vintage pink chucks in the right and purple wedges in the left, which I personally found too ugly to exist.
“That would have not ended well for anyone,” she finished, shoving them back into the bag.
“Were you actually worried that Deralick would have a use for your size five pink and purple shoes?” I pursed my lips as she rained glares on me. Guess she had.
“Let’s go.” Brace paused. “Do you need any help with your packs? It’s quite a walk to town.”
We both shook our heads; this was my second attempt at protecting the stone. And apparently Lucy trusted no one with her clothes.
Shouldering her pack, Lucy had a new distraction as she hopped on the spot. “Tell me the bathroom is close?”
Slight confusion crossed his features, but he answered. “It’s just down the hall.”
We followed him along the plain white hallway. He paused at an intersection; frosted glass doors were the only break in the endless white. Once again there were no latches, handles, hinges or any indication a door existed. The panel just slid into the wall.
With his right hand, Brace gestured for us to enter.
“Five minutes,” were the last words he said as we stepped inside and the door slid closed.
I moved quickly into the small room. It was stark and clean, with zero character. Large white tiles lined the floor and walls. A glass-walled cube sat in the corner – beside it was the toilet.
Lucy sprinted in that direction, dropping her pack on the ground. My own discomfort growing, I distracted myself by walking to the large mirror running along the wall.
“What. The. Hell.” I gasped at my reflection.
Half of my hair was still braided, the other half was teased into curly tendrils all around my head. Damn, I let Brace see me like this? I smirked at my reflection; there goes any chance of him returning my attraction.
Lucy snorted behind me. “I told you. Good luck fixing that.”
Dropping my pack, I scrabbled around until I found my hairbrush. It was tied together with gel paste and toothbrush. Under the mirror rested a small clear bench. A glass bowl perched on top. As I reached into the bowl, cool water flowed from under the glass.
No faucet. Apparently we were lucky enough to have magic doors and magic water. Shrugging, I plunged my toothbrush in and coated it high with paste. I hated an unclean mouth; I had a slight obsession with minty freshness.
Finishing quickly, I spat before rinsing clean. Then I attempted to tame my red mane. Untangling my braid, I attacked with my brush. It stuck at first stroke. Struggling to free it, I groaned as strands tore free.
A flush sounded. Lucy moved to wash her hands next to me.
I moaned my frustration at her. “I’d say two days from dreadlocks.”
“Word.” She again attempted to run her hands through her own snarled curls, which again ended in failure.
“It’s not really fair, Abbs. I have bruises ev
erywhere, and this awesome scrape.” She gestured to the pink graze on her cheek. “But besides messy hair you look perfect, and too gorgeous as usual.” She glared in mock annoyance. “What’s your secret? Do you have a hidden fountain of hotness?”
I stuck my tongue out at her in the reflection. “You’re insane Lucy.” I would kill for her curves and blond beauty.
She shrugged, but didn’t comment further. It was a circular argument we’d been having for years.
I worked hard and eventually my thick hair caved to the vigorous attack. Braiding the shiny curls off my face, I smiled. It was stupid, but my braid gave me a sense of normalcy. Lucy grabbed my arm as I moved to the toilet.
“There’s no tissue. You’ll have to use a few from my stash.”
I looked down at the two small pieces she was waving at me.
“Your generosity knows no bounds,” I said drily.
She smiled sweetly. “It’s that or your hand. We’re on rations – I will not be using leaves, thank you very much.”
Shaking my head, I moved to the toilet. It looked ultra high-tech, buttons and gadgets running along the right-hand side. The exact type of thing I would have broken in minutes. Ignoring the buttons, I was going with the hope it worked on the same basic principles as back home. Finishing quickly, I stood. Without any assistance from me, a loud flush sounded. Well, that was a nice change from the drop pits which had replaced flushable toilets in New York. Not enough running water for that little luxury.
Moving back to the sink, I washed my hands. Lucy was finished, dressed in fresh clothes, her two layers of mascara applied and everything. Grabbing my pack, I unearthed a new shirt and underwear before dressing quickly. This was one of my favorite black vintage band tees, last year’s birthday present from Lucy.
Shouldering my pack, I followed her over to the door.
“How do they open? It’s not a sensor. We’re standing right here.” Lucy jumped up and down, waving her hands.
Her bag just about toppled her backwards. She grabbed my arm to rebalance.