Dream On

by M. Kircher

  * * * *

  "Wow," I breathe.

  "Wow is right," Gabe agrees, his eyes plastered on the gleaming cave wall. The wall has got to be at least a mile high and about as long. I'm used to crazy stuff in dreams, but this is just plain breathtaking.

  The workers pass us by, unperturbed by our presence. They push their wheelbarrows right up to the glistening diamond wall and each man takes a pickaxe from the bottom of his empty cart. They start chipping away at the wall, swinging their axes again and again. Diamonds the size of my head — shoot, maybe even my entire body — tumble out of the wall and crash into the wheelbarrows waiting below. When their vessels are full, the workers silently return to the line, which slowly winds back out of the cave.

  "The book doesn't do it justice," murmurs Gabe.

  "Yeah, no way. This is way, way cooler than what Mom described."

  Gabe turns his head to the left and right, and I can guess who he's searching for — I've been keeping an eye out for the guy, myself. But I'm starting to doubt if he's even here, and I think I'm actually okay if he's not. The hero of this story — er, dream — is a handsome prince who rides a giant diamond down out of the sky and rescues a princess who's trapped in a hidden garden. The prince is my father, of course. Not that Gabe would know it.

  The dream echoes the real story about how my father rescued my mother by loving her. He never cared she was a dreamwalker and gave her a chance at everlasting happiness. At least, that was how Mom told the story, when she shared her dream with me. I didn't know about the everlasting happiness part, but it made a bestselling children's story, at the very least.

  "I don't think the prince is going to show up this time," I tell Gabe and place my hand on is arm. I don't want to go into the particulars with him right now. I buried my father five years ago, and I'm content to let him rest in peace.

  Gabe's shoulders droop like a disappointed little boy. The gesture is endearing, especially coming from a dark leather-clad teenager with metal hoops sticking out all over his face.

  I smile at him. I'm guessing he'd been hoping to see the prince, but there are more pressing things to worry about right now. Like saving his life.

  "Let's go," I tell him. "We've got to get moving and find the garden. There might not be much time left for you."

  "Yeah, all right," Gabe agrees reluctantly, and though he allows me to tug him away from the magnificent wall of treasure, his eyes still linger behind.

  Together we jog back out of the cave and emerge into the sun-dappled forest, shielding our eyes as they adjust to the light.

  "Follow the men, right?" I ask Gabe.

  He nods yes. "The prince trailed them out of the cave of diamonds and into the forest." So together Gabe and I dash into the shadow of two giant pine trees, following the trail of silent workers as they wind noiselessly into the darkened woods. The soft pine needles crunch under my feet, and I let myself feel hopeful. Maybe, just maybe, we might actually all get out of this in one piece.

  The forest begins to thin up ahead, and the trees spread farther and farther apart. They finally stop all together, and Gabe, the workers, and I emerge out of the forest and into a wide clearing.

  We've made it to the slides.

  I gulp. Heights are not my thing, kind of like how snakes and bees are not my thing. It's amazing how these fears and phobias tend to show up in dreams.

  I can feel a cool breeze wafting across my skin, and I tentatively follow the workers to the edge of the clearing and to what I know will be the tallest, scariest mountain ledge you could ever imagine.

  I wish I didn't know what was coming next.

  "Yikes," I hear Gabe whisper to himself, and I totally agree. My stomach swoops down into my knees as I scoot carefully over to the side of the ledge and peer down nervously.

  The cliff face drops vertically beneath us. No gently sloping hills or jagged peaks. It just goes straight down. And there is nothing else but a backdrop of clear, cobalt blue and a layer of puffy, white clouds.

  I swallow and my throat feels dry. We are higher than the clouds.

  "Ohhh no, I can't go down there. No way." I back away from the ledge and try to keep my knees from shaking. I know Gabe's life is on the line. And Evan's too, wherever he is, but I'm too scared. "Do you think there's any other way down?" I ask Gabe hopefully.

  Gabe shakes his head. "Not that I can see." He points over to the line of men, each of whom marches up to the edge of the cliff and fits his wheelbarrow into one of the curved openings that jut out of the ground. The openings are stone slides that drop away from the cliff and plunge into the clouds below. The workers tip their enormous, glittering diamonds onto the slides and watch quietly as the precious rocks roll down into the sky and disappear into the clouds.

  I am less than thrilled at the thought of following the path of those rocks. Gabe and I have to do it, though. The slides flow down to a lake, which then leads into a garden. The garden, hopefully, will take us straight to Mom.

  Gabe walks over to one of the unused slides. The workers stop their ceaseless toil and back away to see what he will do. I gulp.

  He runs his hand over the warm stone and then squints back up at me. "Ladies first," he declares and then grins his most mischievous grin ever.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I tiptoe over to the mouth of the slide beside Gabe and peer down into it. "For-crying-out-loud-that's-high," I mutter and immediately back away. I can feel beads of sweat beginning to roll down my back and pricking up underneath my arms. I don't know if I can do this.

  "That was a pretty long swear word, Em," Gabe chuckles, his dark eyes twinkling at me with undisguised mirth.

  "I didn't swear," I tell him, irritated. It's amazing how I can be so attracted to him one moment and ready to bite his head off the next. It's never calm with Gabe, just a fast-paced, wild ride of emotion. "Isn't a gentleman always supposed to go first? You know, to make sure it's safe and all?"

  Gabe sweeps his hand up and down his body, gesturing to his punk clothes and multiple piercings. "Do I look like a gentleman to you?" he asks, and there's that wicked grin again.

  I might be tempted to swoon a bit, but the steep drop yawning below me is creating butterflies all on its own.

  Gabe shoves his hands into his jean pockets and rocks back on his heels. "You're totally flipping out," he marvels.

  I swear, the guy is positively jubilant. I glare at him. "Yes, I am. My mother is missing, I have to slide down a bazillion-foot slide down into the sky, for Pete's sake, the alarms have gone off, and you and Evan could literally be dying right now. We have no way of knowing now how much time is passing out in the real world." My throat closes up, and I angle my body away from him. I can feel tears forming at the corner of my eyes. I'm so angry and fearful and nervous all at the same time.

  Gabe steps over and wraps his arms around me. He pulls me tight into his chest and tucks my head under his chin. "It's going to be okay, Em," he murmurs into my hair and hugs me tight. My muscles relax into his warmth, and for a moment, I believe him. I pull back and gaze up into his brown eyes.

  "So you'll go first?" I ask in the smallest, sweetest, most innocent voice I can muster, and Gabe bursts out laughing.

  He pushes me away and holds up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, you got me." He chuckles. "I'll go, but you have to promise to follow. No chickening out."

  "I promise." I do my best to look serious when I say this.

  Gabe steps up to the empty slide and settles himself down onto it. I ease up behind him and peer nervously over the edge.

  "If only I didn't know how high up we were," he mutters.

  Just then the bright, blue sky around us begins to dim, and the blinding sun starts to dip down into the treetops behind us.

  "What's happening?" I exclaim.

  But before Gabe can answer, the sun fully sets and the world around us is plunged into darkness. A small white moon emerges in the sky and hangs low over the tops of the pine trees. The m
oon provides just enough light for us to see.

  "Huh," Gabe muses thoughtfully.

  "Huh is right," I agree. "This didn't happen in Mom's dream — or if it did, she never told me about it."

  "So her dreams are changing again." Gabe takes a deep breath. "Which is normal, right?"

  "Sometimes," I answer. "But with Mom's mental state, even if she's remembered me, I'm not so sure this is a good thing."

  "Well then," he says briskly. "I better get going." Gabe reaches up from the slide and grabs my hand, squeezing it once. "Count to one hundred," he tells me. "Then come down after me."

  I nod. "Be careful," I tell him, and I mean it with all my heart. I'm terrified to go down that slide. But I'm even more terrified to let Gabe out of my sight again. My fingers twist together, trying to grind away jumpiness of my nerves.

  "Yep." Gabe lies down on the slide, crossing his arms over his chest like an Egyptian mummy. "I can't die from a dream," I hear him murmur to himself. Then he lets out a giant whoosh of breath and disappears over the edge of slide. "I can't die from a dreaaaaaaammmmmm…" echoes back at me from the night sky below.

  "Gabe!" I yell, and peek over the edge, but it's too late. He's going so fast, carried by the momentum of his body and the steepness of the slide, and I can't seem him anymore. The only thing below me is an empty slide and the tops of the clouds, gleaming brightly in the moonlight.

  "You can do this. You can do this," I tell myself shakily as I settle myself down onto the smooth stone. The moon overhead beams down onto my back, and I realize the workers are all still standing here, watching to see what I will do next.

  "Well, here goes nothing," I tell them nervously and finish counting. "Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one-hundred…" My heart is racing, and I try to calm it, reminding myself that no matter how awful this feels, it won't actually hurt me. I could go flying off the slide and smash into a million pieces, and my real body would be perfectly fine, resting on the soft white carpet of Mom's bedroom.

  I cross my arms over my chest, like Gabe did only moments ago, and lie down onto the stone. The hardness of it anchors me. I'm a dreamwalker. I can do this.

  "I can do this!" I yell and finally scoot over the edge of the slide. But my words are lost in the rush of the wind and the air streaming all around me as I drop down into the sky.

  * * * *

  I am the air. I am the sky. I am the cold wind rushing past, chilling my skin and tugging it taut. My hair twists behind me, a streak of black in the night. I want to scream, but the all the air is pressed out of my lungs. I want to open my eyes, but I'm going down the slide so fast the wind burns my eyeballs dry.

  And then I am plunged into the stinging, wet clouds.

  The stone slide goes slick underneath me, and my clothes are instantly soaked. Before I was just cold; now I am chilled to the bone. I'm falling through the air so quickly, the moisture all around me begins to freeze. I can feel my eyelashes stick to my face, and everything goes stiff. I must be inside the clouds. The air rushes relentlessly all around me, and I do my best to keep my half-frozen limbs tight to my body and my sneakers pointing down. My heart feels as though it's going to beat right out of my chest.

  And just when I think I can't take it anymore — when my head threatens to explode and all I want is for this nightmare to end — I burst out of the clouds and launch off the slide and straight into the air. For one second I am flying, with nothing above me but stars and nothing below me but pitch-black sky. And then I plunge into what feels like a warm bath. I sink under the water, and for a couple of beats, my brain doesn't know what to do. But then my survival instincts kick in, and my arms and legs thrash wildly, straining to swim up and out of the water. I need to breathe.

  As struggle to the surface, with my waterlogged clothes trying to drag me back down, someone strong suddenly grips my arm and pulls me up. I break the surface of the water and my mouth opens, my lungs desperate for air. I breathe once, deeply, and then my head plunges back under.

  The strong hands return and haul me back up. First my head, then my shoulders, and then my entire body is dragged out of the water and onto some sort of land. There I lie, drenched and panting, like a dying fish.

  "It's okay, Em," a voice pipes up next to me, and I feel a hand brush the tangled wet snarls of my hair off my face. Gabe tilts my head up and pries open my eyelids. "Breathe," he commands me as my chest slams in and out. "Just breathe."

  I roll free from his grasp and get onto my hands and knees, coughing up water and phlegm.

  "Ugh." I gasp, hacking up what feels like my left lung. "Could that have been any more horrible?" I finish coughing and flop back down on the ground. I roll my head over to the right and stare at Gabe. I stifle a laugh. Man, if I look half as bad as he does, there definitely won't be any more kissing anytime soon.

  "You look awful," I manage to croak out, and Gabe grins. His Mohawk hairstyle has completely wilted, and I think I see a bit of pond scum hanging off of one of the rings in his eyebrow.

  "Thanks for saving my rear end, Gabe," he replies sarcastically. "Yet again."

  I sigh and heave my sopping wet body into a sitting position. "Thank you for saving my rear end, Gabe," I concede and offer him my hand. "Yet again."

  He takes my hand, and together we pull ourselves up. We shake like wet dogs and try to squeeze as much of the moisture out of our clothes as we can.

  The clouds were so cold; I wonder why the lake is warm. I gaze down at the water. "Why do you think…" The words die in my throat. "Whoa," I say softly.

  Gabe comes to stand next to me. "Yeah," he agrees and runs a hand over his dark hair, pushing the wet strands out of his eyes. "Pretty cool, huh?"

  Chapter Thirty

  So it turns out that the crystal lake from Mom's dream isn't actually a lake at all. It's more like a mid-sized river. And apparently the river is made up of millions and millions of liquefied diamonds.

  Don't ask to me to explain how one of the hardest rocks on the face of the earth can be changed into a liquid, because I don't know. It's a dream, not a science class. All I know is I'm standing in front of this radiant water, and the sparkle from it is so bright I wish I had a pair of sunglasses on. And did I mention it is still night here?

  I tilt my head up. Each slide from the cliff far above us empties out into the water. Diamond after diamond pours out of the chutes, and when the rocks hit the lake — or river, or whatever it is — each precious stone shatters into a zillion sparkling orbs that gleam both crystal clear and every shade of the rainbow all at once. It's a glorious sight to behold.

  "Em, look!" exclaims Gabe. He points across the river. "Over there. Do you see the bridge?"

  I follow the direction of his hand and see there actually is a bridge. I don't remember a bridge in this dream.

  The long wooden structure stretches from the side of the river we're standing on out across the water, and it touches down on the opposite bank.

  And there seems to be no other way to cross the glittering waves. Although I know the hero in this story should be confronted with a secret door sometime soon, none of this seems familiar. My so-called plan has been thwarted yet again. Gabe and I have no choice but to keep moving the way the dream keeps directing us, and I guess a bridge is pretty clear sign.

  "The bridge is new, right?" Gabe asks. "I don't remember it from the book."

  "I think so," I reply, and I start walking towards the rickety-looking platform with Gabe close at my heels.

  "You have any idea what else might change?" he asks as we reach the edge of the water.

  I step up onto the wooden planks, testing to see if they can hold my weight. They seem pretty firm, actually, despite the fact they're probably a million years old.

  "Nope. I'm winging it now," I tell him. "But I think Mom's trying to guide us to her somehow. I don't know why else a dream we both know so well would have all these alterations, unless she can't remember it right. Her mind might be creating little ripples to help us
find her faster. It's what I'm hoping, at least." I take another couple of steps, walking further out onto the bridge and over the sparkling river below. I'm not even that worried about falling in. The bridge isn't super high, and we could always swim across if we had to.

  "Come on." I wave to Gabe. "It's totally fine."

  He gets up onto the bridge and takes a couple of steps, giving me a thumbs-up when the planks seem to hold. But about a fourth of the way across, one of the rotten-looking slabs suddenly gives way, and Gabe's foot crashes straight through it. His leg plunges down into the opening and I hear a sickening crack. An agonized yell tears from his lips.

  I leap back onto the bridge and scramble over to him. His breathing is fast, and his face is covered with a thin sheen of sweat.

  "Gabe, here. Grab a hold of my hand."