Into Dreams: A Gina Harwood Novel (Gina Harwood Series Book 3)

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Into Dreams: A Gina Harwood Novel (Gina Harwood Series Book 3) Page 8

by Indi Martin


  Kylvan shot Kyrri a disapproving look, and Kyrri shuffled backward a few more steps, sitting down behind her leg. "I would have thought my grandson would have explained these things by now. I am the leader of the Cats of Ulthar, but we are not the predominant species on this world. Nor, really, are the Men, but they are much more widespread than we are, and with more networks you would find useful." He sighed. "We are preoccupied with defending our borders from the zoogs, and I know he's at least mentioned those."

  Kyrri chirped an affirmative but kept his head down otherwise.

  "Even in peaceful times, however, we don't travel far past our own borders. We are generally content to be here. We are safe here, safe from Men who would do us harm, and revered by the Men who live here." Kylvan smiled. "So, yes, I am a king of sorts, a leader of our people, but that power doesn't extend far into this world. There are many areas that would not even recognize us. They would just think we are very large house-cats. My scouts would have to travel many weeks to reach those areas, and there are many areas beyond even those where your friend may be." He sighed again, his whiskers drooping. "I fear what your friend has already encountered, let alone what he might in several weeks more. There are places he could not survive. Many places. The King could help more, if half of what they say about him is true."

  "I understand," said Gina. "I'm grateful for everything you've already done. Where is this king? Who is he?"

  "His name is lost to us," admitted the Cat. "He is only 'the King.' It has been centuries since a Cat has gained audience with the King, and longer still for Men."

  "He's a Man, then? Is he even still alive after centuries?" asked Gina, referring to the race of people that thronged through the city beneath them.

  "No, not a Man" started Kylvan, and he seemed reticent to speak. "He's... well, he is a Dreamer. He was a Dreamer."

  Gina started. "What? What do you mean, was?"

  Kyrri shook beside her as Kylvan continued. "The King was a Dreamer, like you, many countless suns ago. He visited our lands several times, and then one day, he chose to stay. Some say his real body is long dead. Some say he is dead, too, but his castle stands, and no one can enter it. Many have tried. Many have fallen."

  "Why would that help me?" asked Gina, confused. Her head was spinning, but from the information, not the dizziness that had marked her recent time.

  "Legend says that the King knew all that happened in our world. He ruled over it kindly. He was not a wicked man, but a large, generous man who liked to eat and drink and lay with the women in heat.” Kylvan smiled, his whiskers high. “Food and drink never ran out within those walls, and he introduced peace to a world that had been torn asunder by constant violence. For the first time, the tribes of Men were united under him, a Dreamer, and they turned back the hordes of horrors that dwell in the mountains and in the dark caves. They forged safe territories from the wilds, and carved towns and cities into the hillsides, even tamed the Southern islands from the madness that descends upon its mainland shores. He brought them secrets that enabled them to build weapons, and technologies that made living easier. He ushered in a golden age, the age we still live in today. The King was loved by all who heard of him."

  "What happened?" asked Gina, entranced by Kylvan’s deep-throated storytelling.

  "Time. As the centuries passed, the King interacted less and less with the people, closed the doors to the castle. The nations and tribes splintered, and small skirmishes turned into wars. Some say he could not abide to watch what he'd built be torn down, but others say he could have stopped it with a thought, and chose not to. Some think he just got tired. A lot of people assumed he died. One of my ancestors, Kyllard, was the last Battleleader who had a private audience with the King, before the last great land bridge severed our lands from the eastern shore. He returned from the desert with his muzzle grey and his tail low; he could not ever bear to repeat the words that the King gave him, so they too are lost to time. But he was alive, the King was still alive then, and so perhaps he is today." Kylvan walked over and placed a paw on Kyrri's shoulder. "If he is, and he will open the doors to see you, then perhaps he will be able to aid you."

  "Sire, lore says the King could kill us with a thought," murmured Kyrri in a frightened, fluttering voice. "And the castle is very far away, across the seas.”

  Could kill us with a thought, echoed Gina in her mind, and the buzz in her head grew louder. "I'll go there immediately," she announced, and Kyrri looked at her in disbelief. "You don't have to go with me, Kyrri. I'd understand."

  Kyrri's mouth dropped open. "I would follow you into the maws of death, Gina-Dreamer," he asserted, puffing up.

  “Then we’ll go there immediately,” amended Gina, her heart gladdened by Kyrri’s loyalty.

  "That's my boy," said Kylvan, motioning for him to approach. He patted his grandson lightly on his leather shoulderpads and leaned over to touch foreheads. "You are charged with representing all Cats in this Dreamquest, Kyrri. I wanted to send one of my hardened warriors, but you asked first. The lessons teach that he who feels the draw must go. So do us proud, kit."

  "I'm not a kit, sire," replied Kyrri, but his voice wasn't as hard as he'd probably intended.

  "You are a kit," said Kylvan matter-of-factly, frowning. "But you will not be a kit when you return."

  Kyrri furrowed his brow and bowed clumsily before running back to Gina’s side.

  "Now," continued Kylvan. "Let me see what I can do to help you on your journey."

  15

  "Boys, wake up."

  Light flooded the room and Nate groaned. Chris was up in a flash beside him, springing forward with enough energy to displace Nate from the air mattress. He rolled off the side, surprised and groggy.

  "Is it Melissa?" asked Chris, already struggling to his feet.

  Mama LaVey nodded. "Come to the kitchen when you're ready," she said, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I've got coffee on," she called sleepily as she walked down the hall.

  Nate sat in a daze, rubbing his eyes, while Chris danced around him, wriggling into his t-shirt.

  "C'mon, Nate," he said, grabbing both of Nate's hands and dragging him upright.

  "Mmrf," Nate snarled in response.

  "Here." Chris tossed Nate's t-shirt in his face and perched on the end of the sofa, waiting with an alertness that Nate greatly envied.

  "You can go on, I'll be there in a sec."

  Chris grimaced. "I promised Mama I wouldn't let you out of my sight. Sorry."

  Nate nodded. He understood that. If he were Mama, he wouldn't want him unescorted either. He threw the t-shirt on and yanked it over his head, clumsily getting to his feet. "K. Let's go." Nate walked down the hall, hearing Chris fall in step behind him. They entered the kitchen and slid into their seats at the dining room table, only a few seconds before Mama placed giant mugs of fresh coffee in front of each of them.

  "What's up?" asked Chris, spooning sugar liberally into his cup.

  "What time is it?" grumbled Nate, looking outside at the first rays of sunlight breaking over the horizon.

  "Six-thirty," answered Mama. "And trust me, I wouldn't be up if I didn't have to neither." She opened her refrigerator and studied the contents. "Looks like I got enough eggs, maybe bacon too," she grumbled under her breath.

  "What did Melissa say?" asked Chris, glaring at Nate to stop interrupting.

  "We're gon' have company first, cherie. Two of 'em, a lady and a young man. She showed 'em to me while I was wakin' up, driving along just outside of town. They should get here in about twenty minutes, I should think."

  Nate saw Chris looking at him and shrugged.

  "Then Melissa's gon' ride me like a pony again," she sighed. "Oh, don' give me you're sorry, you're sorry, girl, puh-leeze. You ain't sorry. I told ya I'd rather just tell 'em what you tell me," she snapped to her left, causing Nate and Chris to exchange quizzical glances. "Sure it's slower, but it don't suck as bad."

  "Problems?" ventured Chris tentatively.
>
  "You try gettin' possessed sometime. Ain't fun," she mumbled at Chris.

  "I know," murmured Nate. "It sucks ass."

  Mama nodded in his direction. "That's right. It sucks ass." She gestured toward the front door. "Keep an eye out up there, cherie. Yell back if they show up. Nate can stay with me."

  Chris shrugged. "Okay," he answered, stirring a bit more cream into his coffee before standing and taking it with him to her office.

  Nate sipped gingerly at his coffee. It was still too hot, but the warmth felt good trickling down his throat. "Are they dangerous?"

  Mama LaVey cracked an egg in her meaty hand. "Girl says she thinks they're following you, but she also thinks they're friendly. Guy driving looks like he's your age. Just a kid."

  "Do we know them?" asked Nate excitedly, running through possibilities in his mind.

  "No clue," she shrugged, stirring a bowl with what looked like a dozen scrambled eggs. "Just know what she tells me," she added bitterly.

  "Hey!" called Chris from the other room. "Are they in a green fastback?"

  "Not sure," yelled Mama. "What do they look like?"

  "Guy driving has red hair, freckles," called Chris. "Chick in the passenger side is seriously hot!"

  "Yeah, that's them," chuckled Mama.

  Nate heard a clatter and Chris emerged through the door, his face flushed. "She's got a gun!" he hissed. "What do we do?"

  Mama LaVey clucked her disapproval. "Why'd I even buy that goddamn sign?" she muttered. "Stay here, sit down," she ordered, and Chris slid obediently into his chair. Nate watched as the large woman checked that her apron was straight, and then walked in her loose, rolling way to the backdoor, opening it and peering out the screen door. Nate leaned back to look behind the curtain onto Mama's backyard. He saw a woman stalking along the back wall, and Chris wasn't wrong. She had long, shapely legs under a business skirted suit, and her long, blonde hair was swinging behind her in a loose ponytail. Of course, the gun gripped in her hands was a bit of a turn-off.

  "I got a 'No Guns' sign out front, lady," called Mama, one hand on her hip. Nate barked a quick laugh at the absurdity of it.

  Nate couldn't hear the woman's response, but she froze in her steps and twirled to face Mama. Her features were sharply beautiful, coldly beautiful, and Nate shivered despite the heat in the kitchen. She didn't look like a "friendly" person.

  "Want some breakfast? I'm frying up some bacon and eggs, got enough for you and your friend out front," offered Mama, before adding, "Might as well come in and eat instead of prowlin' round my garden scarin' my tomatahs."

  Nate still couldn't make out the woman's words, but was relieved to see her holster her gun. He let his breath out, not having realized he'd been holding it.

  Mama snorted in disgust. "It's Mama, not Miss. And come through the front door if you wanna talk to me. It'll be open." She slammed the backdoor, locked it, and shook her head as she passed through the kitchen on her way to the front door. "Unbelievable, the nerve of some people. Invite 'em to breakfast and get a badge in your face."

  Chris shot up out of his chair. "Cops?" he asked, turning white.

  "Would that be so bad?" Nate asked tiredly.

  "Yes!" answered Chris, looking at him like he'd grown another head.

  Nate just shrugged his response and sipped his coffee.

  "The goddamn nerve," muttered Mama, walking back through to flip her bacon strips. "Some people."

  Nate heard the tinkling entrance bells sound and looked at Chris over his coffee mug. Presently, the blonde-haired woman he'd seen in the back walked in, followed quickly by a lanky, gangly redheaded guy covered in freckles.

  "Nuh-uh, lady. I said no guns. You best take that outside right quick," yelled Mama from behind her pan.

  "FBI," replied the woman evenly, flashing her badge.

  "You ain't feds, and you ain't here to arrest nobody. You take your skinny blonde ass outside, lock that pretty little piece away, and then maybe you'll get some answers from me. But you ain't getting nothing, no answers and no breakfast, while you carrying that weapon in my house." Mama snapped her fingers and locked eyes with the woman, daring her to take another step.

  The woman flushed a deep red, and Nate flinched. She had murder in her unusual hazel eyes. Even the redheaded guy flattened himself against a wall, clearly ill-at-ease with the standoff. "Fine," she spat, turning on her heel and stomping out the front door.

  "Mm-hmm, that's right," chattered Mama in a sing-song voice.

  "Um, hi," said the redhead, waving awkwardly. "I'm Chaz."

  "Chris," said Chris.

  "Nate," said Nate.

  "I'm Mama LaVey, but you can call me Mama, cherie," sung Mama, pointing at the last empty chair at the table. "Take a seat. Coffee?"

  "Uh, yes, ma'am, please," said Chaz, looking at his tablemates nervously.

  Mama smiled. “Chris, get the boy some coffee." Chris obediently stood and poured a new cup. "How you like your eggs, Chaz?"

  "Scrambled?"

  "Good, cause that's how you getting 'em," she answered with a laugh. She spooned the eggs into a large bowl and brought it to the table. "Help yourself, bacon's comin' up. I take it y'all are here about whatever monster's possessin' poor Nate over there?" she asked offhandedly.

  Chaz flushed a deep red and flinched away from Nate. "Y-yes?" he answered, eyes full of fear.

  Nate's eyes were wide watching the redhead's response. He'd never inflicted fear in anyone before all this, since he, too, was an awkward, lanky young man. He was getting accustomed to the reaction, and he didn't like it. Mama LaVey was also watching the interaction with bright, observant eyes, and she frowned. "He ain't gonna bite you, cherie," she said gently. "I'm gonna make some biscuits, too," she announced suddenly, swooping into motion.

  "I think we probably have enough, Mama," offered Chris, pushing his eggs around on his plate.

  "Nope," she answered curtly. "Even bad juju sounds a little better with a full belly in the bright sun. Biscuits in ten. You three, eat."

  Chaz took a big bite of his eggs blindly, his eyes locked on Nate. "These are really good, ma'am," he said. "You have no idea how hungry I was." He chewed mechanically, brown eyes unmoving, and his gaze didn’t move from Nathan’s face. It was a little unnerving, and Nate shifted uncomfortably in his seat, reaching for the ketchup bottle to drown his eggs.

  "Everyone's hungry that walks through my door," she murmured with a sigh, sliding a cookie sheet full of biscuits into the oven.

  "I'm not," snapped the woman as she slunk through the door.

  "Yes, you are." Mama LaVey rolled her eyes, answering without bothering to look up. "You jes’ stubborn."

  Chaz choked on a piece of egg, and Chris slapped him on the back. "My name is Charlie Parker," she started. "You're Mama LaVey, I take it. And you," she said, taking inventory of the faces in the room. "Are Chris Stivek. Nathan Jones." Nate noticed her shoot a disapproving glare at Chaz, but he kept eating his eggs and watching Nate. "Your families are worried about you."

  Nate's breath caught in his throat and the faces of his family flashed before his eyes, resting on his mom, who he knew wasn't worried about anything anymore. He could see her so clearly, tears rolling down her face as she tried to speak, the tubes everywhere, everywhere just tubes. She was so thin and her cracked lips seemed to be saying something, trying to speak, but she was so weak from the treatments. Nate leaned over her bed, trying to make out her message.

  "Nate," said a voice, and he looked up to see Melissa standing on the other side of the bed.

  "One second," he replied, leaning in closer. He could hear the fluid rattling in his mother's lungs, the mucus catching on her vocal cords as she tried to speak, the sick wet pop of air. "I have to hear her..."

  "This isn't real, Nate. You have to come back. He'll find you here." Melissa leaned forward, her hands on his mother's bed rails.

  "Go away," he spat, sobbing openly. "You shouldn't be here."

  "Neith
er should you," she said, and she was beside him now, she was whispering something in his ear. "Eat your eggs," she breathed, barely audible, and he closed his eyes.

  When he opened them again, he was staring at his plate of eggs in the kitchen. It was absolutely silent. He looked up and everyone was staring at him, especially the redheaded man, who had darted behind the blonde woman and was peering at him over her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he muttered, feeling his cheeks redden with embarrassment. "What did I do now?"

  "You informed us we were all going to die," stated Charlie Parker matter-of-factly, her hazel eyes narrowed to slits.

  "Oh," replied Nate weakly. "Well, I mean I guess that's technically true for everybody."

  The sound of the oven door opening caused everyone to turn their heads. "Biscuits are ready and it looks like it's gonna be a beautiful day," announced Mama LaVey. "Everybody eat up, then we'll go to my office and have a nice, long chat."

  16

  "Five dinieri! Only five dinieri!"

  The man's breath was hot and wet, and he was way too close to her. Gina pushed past the white-haired vendor and his fistfuls of foreign, spiky berries and onto the next loud, smelly stall. She glanced back to make sure Kyrri was behind her, and he was indeed, having no trouble walking through the narrow street as people jumped out of his way. She rolled her eyes in exasperation.

  "Kyrri! Don't you think you should be in front?" she called, motioning for him to catch up.

  He trotted up to her, his head cocked. The vendor that had been screaming at her bent down and placed a small piece of meat next to the Cat, and Gina screwed her mouth up to the side. "I shouldn't walk through the city streets in front of a Dreamer," he said, nodding his thanks to the old man. "That would be disrespectful." He picked up the meat with his claw and took a small, prim bite.

  “You walked in front of me on the way here,” she pointed out.

  “You didn’t know your way yet.”

  Gina blew her hair out of her face. "Okay, but these people don't know I'm a Dreamer. They DO know you're a Cat."

 

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