The Lucid Dreamer (Dystopian Child Prodigy SciFi) (The Unmaker Series Book 1)

by Casey Herzog

  “Aaron,” Dante breathed with difficulty without looking at the boy.

  “I’m sorry Dante. You didn’t deserve this. Nobody did. It was partly our fault.”

  “Do you think so?” the healer asked, his mind fuzzy and his throat dry.

  “We didn’t let you sleep in the quarters. Maybe you would have had breakfast with us. Wouldn’t have been alone when it happened. The others are busy, but I came to tell you that the Lucid Dreamers apologize. King says there’s no hard feelings. Feel free to return whenever you want. You’ll have a space—”

  “No.” He had made the decision already.

  “What?” Aaron said, and the vision began to fade from around Dante until there was nothing left.

  “No,” I said. “Thanks anyway.” If his gifts hadn’t given him the will to feel better, his anger had. Dante sat up slowly and looked into Aaron’s eyes. “You can keep your apologies. I’m better off alone.”

  Aaron carried a wounded look as he nodded and turned, leaving the room.

  Finally I’m alone, Dante thought with a sigh. He looked at the ceiling, feeling fortunate he finally had time to think about everything that had happened. Less than two days at the University, and someone had already tried to take his life. Why me? What were they trying to do? Kill me? Over what, my abilities? Envy? A possible threat I pose?

  Thousands of questions ran through his head. It was the first time he’d been hurt in such a way, and he was still carrying the shock of realizing how vulnerable he could be in a moment like the one he’d just been through.

  For the first time ever, even after Genaro and both visits to Ayia, I actually felt my life slipping away from me. I was actually dying. It was an impossible thought, impossible in a way that nobody else would have understood. I’m supposed to be practically immortal…

  It took him a moment to realize the room had suddenly grown very cold. It wasn’t the natural drop of temperature that follows a draft or a chill outside, but more like he had been pulled out of the infirmary and into a cellar or storage room without moving locations at all. He recognized the feeling. It was the same sensation that had passed over him when…

  No, it can’t be…

  The door creaked open, its form pushed by an invisible hand. Dante straightened and opened his mouth to call out, but his throat had closed up and his vocal cords were useless and mute. There was a shadow in the darkness beyond the door’s threshold that made the artificial terror in his body become all too real.

  They’ve come to finish what they started, Dante knew. His stitched-up wounds tore at him as he stretched in a futile attempt to escape his bed, but the biting cold was only getting worse with each passing second. Soon, time itself stopped, and the healer knew only his killer’s will stood between him and his death, it was all—

  A voice called out and Dante gasped, his breath returning to him, and his body quickly recovering its heat once more. The shadows were gone and in the doorway stood a familiar figure, looking at him with narrowed eyes and a strange look on his face. It was the Sphinx.

  “Are you okay, Dante?” the teacher asked.

  Dante coughed in an attempt to speak, but his voice came out as naturally as it ever had. What had just happened?

  “I…I’m fine. Something horrible came over me, I don’t know what.”

  The young teacher with the severe expression approached him and sat down on the chair next to the hospital bed.

  “Are you okay? Was someone here just before I arrived? I felt a presence leave the corridor as I was heading to this room.”

  Dante stared into the man’s hazel eyes and wondered how much trust he could give the mysterious figure. There was too much happening at once, too many questions to ask and too few answers being given.

  “I don’t know,” the healer lied. “I don’t feel well. It might have been nothing.”

  The Sphinx’s disappointment in Dante’s answer was clear, but he said nothing.

  The two would remain there, just sitting for the next hour in each other’s company, until the teacher stood and patted Dante’s shoulder. The healer wondered if the Sphinx had been expecting something, anything from him.

  “Take care, son. Get better. This won’t remain unpunished. The culprits will be found, and you shall continue to be taken care of for as long as you’re here. I’ll make sure of it.” His eyes shone, and he winked at Dante, telling the boy all he needed to know about Roberto’s sudden appearance at his side. The Sphinx assigned me a bodyguard.

  “Thanks sir. I’m still alive thanks to that boy. Send him my gratitude.”

  “Will do.”

  And with that, Dante was once again alone with his thoughts.

  The final visitor arrived the next day, the last day Dante would need to spend in the infirmary. The University staff had informed the healer that first-term classes had been halted until his full recovery in a respectful gesture after his savage attack. It had only pressured him into getting well quicker so that he could soon join his classmates and allow them to continue their progress like they deserved. After all, it wasn’t their fault either that I was almost murdered.

  The fellow knocked three times, his amiable face peeking inside the room with a smile before he actually entered. Respectful and humble of him, Dante thought. The old man nodded at Dante from the doorway and gestured at the chair beside his bed.

  “May I enter and sit down at your side, son?”

  Dante was shocked.

  “Of course, sir. You don’t even need to ask!”

  “None of that,” Brant Albridge said, waving away his words, “You have suffered enough discomfort already.” The Spiritual Lord Chancellor was in his typical robes, but these were darker and more casual than the ones he had been wearing the last time they had met. The time I almost blew him to pieces. “Are you feeling better, son?”

  Dante nodded with an inevitable smile. Again, the feeling of the old man representing a symbol of absolute honesty and security spread through him. If the Sphinx personified mystery, Albridge was the face of goodness. I would be naïve to believe that, but it is what he demonstrates with every movement, every word, and every look. It was clear how and why the man had gotten to his position. He exuded trust, a value so lost and degraded in times like these.

  “I’m great, just feeling a few aches here and there. I’m more worried about not dying in my following terms,” he laughed drily. The message to the Chancellor was clear: Can you keep me safe or not?

  “I understand your worry — do not for a moment think this attack will go unpunished.” Brant shifted in his seat and something changed on his face. “It is time to be open and honest with you, my boy.”

  Dante was taken aback by the change in the man’s demeanor.

  “Yes? What’s going on?”

  Brant lowered his voice and made a grimace.

  “I hadn’t expected to bother you with these truths yet, but it appears that the enemy has moved far more quickly than I could have ever imagined.” Brant remained silent, and for a moment Dante thought the man had changed his mind. Finally, the Chancellor seemed to make his decision. “Dante, your arrival at the University did not occur out of pure chance. There have been agents of different, conflicting forces searching for you since you were very small, possibly since your very birth, in fact. Some seek to weaponize you, others to kill you before you can turn against us. Others just want to capture you or frighten you into submission — the boys that attempted to attack you were probably not even sent to kill...” he trailed off, probably realizing he’d said a bit too much.

  “Do you really think that, sir? I was inches from my final breath; my guts pierced and sliced with a sharp, poisoned dagger that almost made me bleed to death.”

  “Almost,” Brant said simply. “They did not wish to kill you, or you would be dead. Simple as that. Dante, you must realize that you will never be safe. Not here, nor anywhere.” I have heard those words before, Albridge, Dante thought.

  The r
eal question needed to be asked, even if it was a change of subject. It’s now or never.

  “Why am I so important? What am I?”

  Albridge smiled.

  “I shall let you find that out with time, and if you don’t, then at least to grow up and decide on your own. I want you to be able to answer your own question, child.” He stood and offered a hand, which Dante shook. “You shall be taken care of for as long as you are within the University. I will guarantee it. Now get better and show everyone what you are made of, Dante Castello.”

  The Lord Chancellor left the room and Dante was left alone.

  His biggest question — the one that had led him all the way here — had finally been answered.

  The worst part was that it had only left him with a thousand more, and the burning desire to fight on.

  This won’t stop me, whoever you are. I will prevail.

  With a dizzy swing of his legs off the hospital bed, Dante managed to stand uneasily on the cold floor of the infirmary room and hold himself straight and upright. He took an uncomfortable step and slipped, falling to one knee. It caused him great pain, but he grabbed onto the bed and raised himself up once more. Another uneasy step, and then another. He reached the door and pulled it open, lifting his head up high and clenching his fists.

  Nothing will stop me now — for Margaret, Johanna, Callum, and for me; I shall prevail.

  Dante stepped out to meet the world. He was just getting started.

  TO BE CONTINUED…

  Magic Eyes

  Bonus Book 1

  Casey Herzog

  Co-Author: C.J. Scarlett

  ***

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  Chapter One

  I was awakened by a sharp rap on the door downstairs. I could tell that it was still pitch black outside, and I was worried who might be out there at that time of night. I stretched and made an involuntary groan of dissatisfaction, having lost the chance to finish my pleasing dream. A faceless stranger had been holding me close and whispering sweet nothings in my ear. I couldn’t remember what he was saying, but I knew I had felt safe and secure, as if the person were there to protect me.

  I went to the window and peered down to see something both strange and exciting: an Elder was patiently waiting, wearing his customary knee-length black leather jacket. I knew that it couldn’t be good. There was no way an Elder would come here, of all places, unless it was absolutely necessary.

  That Elder in particular could be quite intimidating. It was a well-known fact that he was a professor of Natural Studies. When I took one of his classes, it left me shaking my head wondering how he could have such disdain for his students. They were scared of him. Some literally shook in their boots every time he walked by.

  I felt naked and quickly grabbed a black robe from the back of the door. I knew that my father was out. He was quite secretive about his work and I never had the courage to ask him about it. When I went down the stairs, the sensor immediately activated to light my way with each step. As I made my way towards the front door, I took one more glance to make sure that this was nothing to worry about.

  He was carrying the light. It was an old-fashioned lamp that had been used for as long as I could remember. It had one battery that lasted for years before it needed to be replenished. Technology was rampant, but everything else was mundane and boring. Life was a series of bland colors with no individuality.

  I was still apprehensive about opening the door. I had never been comfortable around people, and I tried my best to stay to myself. My only friend was Julian, and there were times that I thought he was only around me because he felt sorry for me. I didn’t want to pull at that thread. He was my confidant, and it didn’t hurt that he wasn’t bad on the eyes.

  I made sure that my robe was cinched tight because I wanted to make sure the Elder could not accuse me of any impropriety. Women were only allowed to expose skin with their significant other, behind closed doors. Outside in public, we were made to dress in clothing that could not be considered tempting to men. Fashion was ordained at the meeting of the Elders.

  With shaky fingers, I opened the door to find myself confronted with a man more than six feet tall, weighing more than 200 pounds, baring a gold tooth that shone in the light of the lamp he was holding. He was bigger than life. I hadn’t had that impression when I saw him lecturing in front of his students. He looked small from far away, and he had the tendency to forget his students names.

  “Miss Lockhart, I am Elder Masters. I’m afraid I have some distressing news. I know that this is quite unorthodox, but I didn’t feel this could wait until morning.” His tone had an icy edge, and I was certain I saw my own breath.

  “My father isn’t here, but I’m sure you can find him in the library. He likes to do his research late at night when he won’t be disturbed. I sometimes don’t see him until morning,” I said realizing that he wasn’t asking for my father. He had specifically mentioned me by name, like it was commonplace for one of the Elders to come to make my acquaintance.

  “I don’t know how quite to say this; there is never an easy way. There was a terrible accident. I don’t know all the details, but initial reports state your father was in the library at the time. There was some sort of gas leak and a spark ignited the building.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss. Be assured that in accordance with Elder law, you will be taken care of. Of course, you’ll have to pack up your belongings and come to one of the social circles. We will take ownership of this land.”

  I had heard about other students in school getting this kind of news, but I never thought it would happen to me. I had heard of the social circles, and they were basically shantytowns for those too young to take care of themselves.

  “Have…they found a body?” I had no idea why it was so important for me to see him in that way. I didn’t want to believe he was gone, but he had never been there to begin with. There was never any real love between us. “Forgive me for being so blunt, but I would like to know more details.”

  “I would really like to discuss this issue with you, Miss Lockhart, but I don’t have the time. I’ve done my duty by informing you of his passing. There is no way anybody could have survived something like that. Those on the scene say that they heard an ungodly scream coming from inside. Furthermore, the Guardians on duty saw your father enter, but not exit.

  “I will need you to vacate the premises within the week.”

  “I know the law, Elder Masters. A week doesn’t sound like enough time to go through all of his things. I’m still trying to process this information.” My head was swimming and my legs buckled underneath me. I lost my breath and I found myself on the floor at his feet. Clawing at his pant leg, I looked up and saw what could only be described as indifference.

  “Get a hold of yourself, Miss Lockhart. This is highly unusual and unbecoming of a lady. I need to get back to my family. I will send over an emissary to handle things if you are unable. However, it’s been my experience that those who have been through this kind of loss have no interest in somebody else interfering in their business. You have the right to privacy as the last living heir of the Lockhart family.” He showed no emotion as he walked down the sidewalk, away from me, with that lamp guiding his steady hand.

  I closed the door and felt the weight of the news slamming down on me like an anvil on my chest. I slumped against the door, put my hand on my chest, and felt my heart beating wildly. I took a few deep breaths as I tried my best to calm the initial need to panic. I was alone. My mother had died when I was young, and I had no siblings to look to for strength.

  The only person I could count on was Julian. I was tempted to call him right away, but I felt it would be selfish to show such disrespect by waking him up in the dead of night. I was sure his parents would not appreciate me coming over and laying this in his lap.

  There was no way I was going to get any sleep. I had to be refreshed in the morning to tackle wha
t was going to be a very difficult task. I was going to have to make the arrangements, make everybody appear to say some kind words about my father. The speech was going to be the most trying exercise. I couldn’t think of anything good to say about him other than he was the one who brought me into the world.

  They had named me Gillian after my mother’s grandmother. I knew my father hated the name, and even more so when the light of his life died. It left him a shell of what he had once been. When I was growing up, people had always told me that my father used to be the life of the party. Something changed when my mother died and he was left to raise me alone. I had to wonder if he blamed me.

  I was about to go back upstairs, when I was blinded by a light coming from his study. He had spent most of his waking moments there when he wasn’t at the library. I turned and had to shield my eyes from the bright green glow that looked almost otherworldly. I cautiously took a few steps in that direction and found myself peering through the glass at the many books he had scattered across the floor and on his desk.