Dreamer's Melody

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Dreamer's Melody Page 1

by J E Mueller




  SHAUDREY: BOOK THREE

  DREAMER'S MELODY

  J.E. Mueller

  Published 2019 by J.E. Mueller

  Cover by Ravenborn

  Book formatting by Lia at Free Your Words

  Contents

  Title Page

  Publishing Info

  Dedication

  Dreamer’s Melody

  Bestiary

  Acknowledgements

  About The Author

  Books By J.E. Mueller

  This novel is dedicated to Sean. Thank you for inspiring the original Fire’s Song ages ago. Thank you to Elly who gave me the inspiration and drive to see this series done. And to the amazing alpha and beta team I had. Thank you Aud and Geetha for helping me refine this book, and rereading the end at least a dozen times. This novel wouldn’t be the same without you.

  Chapter 1

  The thunder was loud enough to shake me from my slumber. I shot upright as a bolt of lightning raced across the sky allowing me to see a bit of my room. Grumbling, I fell back onto my pillows. Exhaustion had seeped into my soul two days ago and hadn’t let go. No amount of sleep nor rest seemed to be enough. Nothing was ever enough anymore, but I shoved those thoughts aside. It would be okay. I had to be.

  As the storm continued, the thunder made it impossible to stay asleep. I sat back up and looked across the room to see my sister sleeping soundly. She could sleep through anything, and I envied her for that.

  With no reason to be concerned about waking her, I lit the candle at my bedside table and pulled out my journal. I had had that dream again. An estate of proportions I couldn’t realistically fathom. Magic and swords. Beasts and mysteries. People calling me by a nickname that only those closest to me knew.

  At first, I thought I was reading too much silly rubbish. Fantasy tales were just for silly headed girls, Stepfather had said. I did adore reading those, though. It was nice to be drawn away from this drab world without magic. I supposed I should be grateful for what reality did have for me, but I longed for more. I felt I was meant for so much more…

  I rolled my eyes at my thoughts and started to write about the dream. I had started in a room with what appeared to be a library. The only way out of the room though was to jump into this puddle, barely bigger than a man, and swim through a long tunnel up into another room. That room had a much bigger pond, with murky water and a demonic creature that took a woman’s form.

  She loved to drown those who came too close.

  For whatever reason, she never actually bothered me. Every time I encountered her in the dream, we would talk, though every time we did she sounded sad. She would introduce herself as Marella and say we had met before. Marella claimed I never remembered her anymore, and as I flipped through past entries, I saw this was true.

  What an odd dream…

  I continued. After talking with her for a bit, I left this odd room with a pond and saw it lead into a bigger house. Every twist and turn either revealed a human or creature. The creatures I first came upon were small but fierce. My brain seemed to remember them for some reason…

  That’s weird. Why would I remember facts about creatures but not any person there? I flipped back through my journal and saw similar notes and annoyances.

  There were stronger creatures on the higher floors of the estate but everyone who knew me had to reintroduce themselves. One entry stated this had been going on for several years. What a weird fact – I had only started dreaming of this place recently.

  Annoyed with that past entry, I shut the journal and noted the storm was starting to die down. With a sigh, maybe a bit too dramatic of one, I blew out the candle and snuggled back into bed. Tomorrow we had too much work to do and there was no way I’d be allowed out of it just because a storm kept me up. We were seafaring people. A little rain should be nothing. The gods of old had sent us worse things to endure than that.

  I pushed the thoughts from my mind. No need to remember the storm that swallowed up Father and many other sailors. We had all suffered then, and those nightmares were better off buried.

  The morning was a dark gray that made it hard to get up. My muscles were stiff and my lower back ached from tossing and turning that I did. Melody, darling sister that she was, seemed to be as bright as the sun despite the weather. She sang loudly as she made her bed and washed her face.

  “Melly, can’t I get another ten minutes of sleep?” I grumbled as I pulled myself from the bed.

  “No,” she sang happily to me.

  I threw my pillow at her, missing by a mile. Snickering, she nabbed it off the floor a foot away from her as I started to sloppily fix up my bed.

  “Rough night Rem-Rem?” Melly asked as she dropped the pillow onto my bed.

  “Storm woke me up,” I grumbled part at the fact, part at the annoying nickname.

  “Oh, gray skies and a bitter night. That’s bad luck,” she stated matter-of-factly.

  Everything was bad luck when the sea was involved. “If you say so.” I started to get ready for my day.

  “But it is!” Melly mused. “Seafarers beware when your sister is a grouch.”

  I threw my pillow at her, smacking her in the face as she laughed at her own joke. “Thanks.”

  As we headed outside, I could already smell the rain in the air. We wouldn’t have much time to get outdoor chores done before the storm set in. As we walked to the barn, I saw Stepfather arguing with Rusty and Grant from down the road. I was surprised to see they weren’t out on the boats trying to get some fishing in before the storm.

  Once we were nearly within earshot we were waved over by Stepfather. “We need to check the crab pots,” he declared as we arrived. “Benson broke his arm, darn drunkards can’t be trusted.”

  Rusty and Grant murmured agreements about their idiot of a crewmate adding in Kale’s injury from two weeks ago.

  Melly frowned. “Water is getting choppy, best wait until the storm is over.”

  I nodded but before I could get a word in Stepfather was already nearly yelling, his face red. “Ungrateful gits,” he started to ramble, his sentences falling apart as the anger built. “Never not need food, but never want to work!”

  Mother married the fool seven years ago. It took a while to get used to his anger storms, and even longer to understand what he meant in those heated moments.

  “If you want us all to break bones and die, then let’s get moving,” I stated, walking by the group and down toward the shore where the boats rocked steadily at the dock.

  The stormy sea didn’t scare me. It took Mother, but only because she had tried to save a fool. The lad survived the wreck, though barely. Her sacrifice set him on the path straight to farming, taking the fishing from his hands and his soul.

  Stepfather had only been married to Mother for a few months then. Mother always said she loved his smile and his humor. We never saw it, but if she was happy again, we wanted it for her. Now she was gone and we were left with the vilest of parental figures.

  Soon it wouldn’t matter. I nearly had enough for my own fishing boat. I knew the waves and sails better than him, and with Melly by my side, I was sure we would do well enough in no time. I knew it would be rocky to start. Stepfather wouldn’t let us stay in our childhood home unless we worked for him. Luckily for me, I had a plan.

  Several years ago, really longer than that, maybe when I was four, a new inn was built in town. The owner had lived for years in a bustling landlocked city and wanted to open a place away from where she grew up. Sometimes I didn’t think her story lined up, but I loved visiting Keagan. She knew just what to do to set one on their course. As long as I was willing to work, she’d see that I had a room, and Melly would be more than welcome too.

  I almost felt bad for Melly. She
didn’t know the full scope of my plan just yet, but she did have enough pieces to put it all together. Soon we’d be free from his temper tantrums. Until then, I had a date with the sea.

  The spray of saltwater caressed my face as I started to ready the boat. If we moved quickly, we would easily beat the storm. Melly was quickly at my side and wordlessly began to work around me. Having done this since we were little girls, there was no need for words.

  The men took their time catching up and I caught fragments of what they were saying. It seemed my words did strike them and they were concerned about the weather. Too late to back out now; men did not back down from work and leave it all to the women.

  Fools and cowards. The three hadn’t actually grown up here, though Rusty and Grant both had been here at least a decade. Long enough to know better. If you were going to tackle waves, you needed to respect the water and go in without fear.

  Once on the boat and out in the salty water, I felt free. We quickly made our way to the lines and pulled the pots out, dumping everything into the tub in the center of where we worked. Melly would toss back any crabs clearly with eggs and any unwanted fish as I did my part to reset the pots.

  We were nearly back when the boat started to hit the waves hard. Stepfather, the fool of a man, tried to call out orders and the men looked to me for nods before moving. Ah, there would be yelling about that later, but first, we had to get back. This was hardly a storm to worry about as long as the fool didn’t try and force bad calls.

  My thoughts came too soon.

  The wind started to blow harder, bringing in the storm faster, and with it, Melly’s false warning came to mind. She should have let me sleep so we’d be late. Maybe the fools would have second-guessed their work before I accidentally challenged them to the task.

  The waves rose and broke harshly around us and I watched as Melly held on tightly to the side, the sea slowly trying to pry her grip. I could see the sea winning and I grabbed a hold of her just as she lost her grip. A wave sent us crashing against the side of the boat and another sent us over the edge.

  Nearly to shore, I saw the rocks in time to push Melly away from crashing into them, but left no time for myself. Cursing, I felt a sharp impact along my side and felt the sharp sting of salt seep into cuts as I was tossed onto another rock. After one more wave, one more sharp pain, all went black.

  My head was throbbing when I finally started to come to. The ground under me was flat and cold and I wondered where I could possibly be. Slowly, I allowed my eyes to open and take in the immediate area around me. There was some form of smooth stone flooring under me. It was gray, reminding me of the rocks along the pier near my home.

  Carefully, I pushed myself up, my head protesting mildly as I sat upright. I appeared to be in a kitchen of sorts. It reminded me of the one at the inn, only a bit larger. As I slowly looked around the room I noticed two doorways, one on either side of me. Through the one to the right I could see a long wooden dining table. While the table itself wasn’t special, I could see cups, plates, and food scattered everywhere, some even on the chairs and floor. Whatever caused everyone to flee in such a manner must have been terrible.

  I eyed it for a moment longer before looking the other way. It appeared to lead to a hallway and I couldn’t see anything significant from my position.

  Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to my feet. My head throbbed, but I didn’t seem any worse for wear, which truly surprised me. For the first time, I realized I wasn’t dressed the same way I had been when I left the house this morning. Instead of my skirts, I wore well-fitted leather pants and a simple tunic.

  Was this a dream? I did hit my head pretty hard—and my legs! I moved my hands along my body where I knew I hit the rocks hardest, but there was no additional pain. It was as if the only injury my body kept was to the head…

  But there was no pain in dreams.

  Where the hell was I?

  Truly scared now, my eyes darted from one open doorway to the next. I couldn’t hear anything coming from either.

  Carefully, I forced myself to take one step after another into the dining room. Something clearly had happened there, and maybe, just maybe, there would be a clue as to what I had gotten myself into.

  I placed my hand on the doorway to steady myself before fully looking in. The only new piece of information I could see was a giant claw mark on the table closest to me. On the far side of the room was another entranceway, which if I had to guess, was where everyone ran off to. Whatever left that mark likely followed them that way.

  I turned toward the other doorway and debated what to do. The creature came from one way and left the other… Pretty easy to rationalize, but were there more? I needed an exit.

  Looking back into the kitchen, I could see several windows. Moving to them, I saw that outside there wasn’t too much nearby. No signs of buildings or anything that looked like home. Just a garden along the windows and then in the distance plenty of forest.

  Did someone bring me here to heal and I got knocked out again? That did seem to be the most likely thing, but where were all my memories between then and now? Amnesia didn’t work like that. Did it?

  I gave the latch on the window a tug and tried to open one. Nothing. I moved to the next, and then the final one, and still nothing. What kind of rubbish place didn’t have working windows? This whole situation made my skin crawl.

  “In here,” I heard a deep, gravelly voice say from down the hall.

  Something inside me made me freeze. I didn’t know that voice.

  “Hide,” I heard a different voice call inside my head.

  I don’t know what made me listen, but I moved. I saw a pantry and shoved myself inside. The smell of grains filled my nose and I wished I had taken a better look before shutting the door.

  “I know I heard something here,” I heard the voice say once more. The sound of heavy footsteps made their way from the hall into the kitchen.

  A few moments passed slowly as I heard the footsteps go from the doorway to the windows, back to the doorway once more. “Someone has been here!” the voice declared.

  “No kidding,” another voice said. I hadn’t heard anyone else enter the kitchen and was surprised by his presence and bored tone.

  “Don’t ya mock me,” the first voice stated, going from annoyed to angry in an instant.

  The other man gave a tired sigh. “We had Aalis and Noll lure that hell beast into here and you really think someone just stuck by? Of course someone was just in here, but they’re gone now or dead.”

  “‘Course I know that Benz, I know all ‘bout that,” Gravel for voice replied, annoyed. “There’s been a warp in.” What did that mean?

  “We’ve no cause to worry about Dreamers. They’re gone too soon.” Benz’s voice dripped with disinterest.

  “This one smells tainted.” Does he mean me? How in the seven hells am I tainted?

  “How so?” Benz finally sounded intrigued. Yes, do explain.

  There was a pause as Gravel tried to gather his words. I could picture his gesturing as he struggled to figure out what he wanted to say. He settled on, “They be nearly dead, but not dead.”

  “So they are likely knocked out. Maybe a coma. They are still a Dreamer and will likely be fine. Medicine in most places saves people. There’s very few areas where they’d just be left for dead,” Benz replied, sounding once more unimpressed.

  None of that information helped me.

  I considered this information while the two men argued. Were they implying this wasn’t really my home world or just a dream? But they seemed to agree I was a ‘dreamer’ so what was going on? It was clear at least that this odd pair was trouble for me.

  “I can still smell ’em!” I heard Gravel shout.

  “Oh no, the little Dreamer is hiding from the two scary men.” Benz yawned. “And what is your plan? Find them and then what? What time-waster do you intend to go with?”

  “Well… we could…” Gravely Mc-I-think-I’m-cle
ver voice stumbled over his words. “Capture ’em and maybe use ’em as bait?”

  “Why would they want to save a Dreamer who could likely wake up before anything were to go on?” Benz asked simply. “They know their kind just as we know ours.”

  Kind? Was no one human here? I really didn’t like the sound of this place.

  Angry gravely voice man grumbled, swore several times, and seemed to stomp off. His steps could be heard getting further and further away.

  I didn’t take this to mean I was safe by any means. I wasn’t sure if the other guy, the one I never heard enter in the first place, left the room. Part of me wondered if the voice would come back and tell me if I was safe or not.

  Chapter 2

  Instead of wondering for much longer, I heard the sound of things being moved around the kitchen. Slowly, the activity seemed to get closer and closer to my hiding place before stopping altogether. My breath caught in my chest. Was this Benz still? Or another unheard person? I wondered if he could hear my heart beating as it threatened to break my ribs. Could it do such a thing in whatever world this was? I really hoped not.

  “Now, Canton is an idiot,” I heard Benz say, much too close for comfort. “But he is our best tracker. So, that means someone is here and near enough to hear me. I won’t waste my time finding you, but you might be interested in our alliance. If you’ve been here before you probably know there’s a bit of a squabble going on. Silverwell versus Steel Oath are of course the main factions but there’s also The Creators and their allies. For the most part, that last group leaves things be. Or they did until we broke the group up.”

  I could hear the smile in his voice as well as something sinister in the way he said it. The names of the factions did ring a bell but I was having trouble placing where I could have possibly heard them from.

  “Slowly our alliance has started to win. But what could there be to win in this world? Well, I’ll tell you, little Dreamer. There is power. A power you have never experienced. A magic that is real and gone from most of our once living lands. I can easily show you that magic and give you the aid you need to become a strong member of our group. Since you’ve stayed so well-hidden even from our Tracker, I bet you’ll do very, very well with just a little training.” Benz paused.

 

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