The Mystical Knights: The Sword of Dreams

by K. A. Robertson

  “No.” Fiona’s voice was as flat as slate and as sour as vinegar. “Evolution—as in, you are growing beyond your known capabilities. Zindel'Tyr created the rest of us, manipulated our DNA, mutated our genetics. We were made with a purpose. He had no intention of creating you.”

  “Okay, back track,” Quinn quickly side stepped between Fiona and Nia, his mouth twisted into a frown. “The Sword of Dreams?” He gazed at Nia as he spoke, his green eyes intent on her face. “You're sure it's hidden within the Seventh Shadow Realm?”

  The Sword is there—dwindling on that line between reality and dreams. It seemed to be glinting at her sardonically, leering through the Shadows—but something was keeping the Sword hidden beyond the looking glass. Nia nodded, narrowing her eyes as she tried to wrap her mind around the plan that was slowly stemming through her brain. How else would one find the Realm that only a Third Eye could see?

  “I can find the Shadow Realms through my dreams!” she whispered suddenly. Her eyes flashed upwards, gleaming mischievously. The others looked over her as if she had simply lost her marbles, but Nia suddenly felt empowered by this foolproof idea and almost pulled herself to her feet. Quinn’s hand darted out to steady her, but Nia had already decided against the action; she sat tight on the ground, her eyes wild with excitement. “Whenever I've dreamed about the Sword of Dreams,” she explained, looking around at each of them, “it looks to be behind a sort of one-way mirror. I can dream about it, reach through the mirror and pull it out!”

  “The Sword is an inanimate object though...you can't just pull object out of midair...er, space.”

  “I know, Quinn—but just go with this,” Nia interrupted, taking a deep breath, the anticipation mounting high in her chest. “I can reach beyond the looking-glass and grab it! I can go into the Seventh Realm through my dreams! And that's how Nefertiti's daughter Setepenre hid it in the first place!”

  At first, no one spoke. Nia listened to her ragged breathing, exhilarated beyond compare; she could feel her eyes beginning to bulge out of their sockets. Her smile was lopsided and goofy as though someone had just cracked an awkward joke. She probably looked like a deranged lunatic, but she didn't care. This was it. This was what was meant to happen.

  “That does seems plausible.” Fiona spoke with unexpected lightness, twirling the hem of her dress around her finger. Her eyes burned into Nia’s like a billion suns.

  “The idea is absolutely nuts!” Thor interjected, breaking free from his stupor. He scorched Fiona with an incredulous stare. “You can't travel through space while dreaming! You can’t just obtain something that simply isn’t there—”

  “But I can, Thor! I can soul-walk! I can have out-of-body experiences!” Nia pointed out, gesturing vivaciously with her hands. “I’ve—I’ve gotten things from the Shadow Realm before...” The amulet was warm upon Nia’s heart; Nia could feel it trembling underneath her shirt as though it were purring contentedly. "My amulet...that's how I received my amulet."

  “You're different than your ancestors, Nia. You have a power inside you that I have never seen before.” Fiona stated softly, staring at her once more with those blazing eyes. “Finding the Sword...could be the key to unlocking that power.”

  “Do you mean that she'll be able to do more than shoot laser beams out of her eyes?” Thor asked.

  “With the Sword of Dreams, it may not hurt as much,” Fiona slowly reached out and placed a gentle hand on the crown of Nia’s head. “If you put your mind to it, Nia, you can achieve it.” Fiona took a deep breath. “Just keep focusing beyond the looking-glass.”

  Nia swallowed, the butterflies flittering through her stomach once again, her once over-brimming confidence dissipating quickly. “It's not going to be easy...”

  “Nothing is ever easy.” Fiona drew her hand away and gave Nia a level look. “But what is easy, may not always be right.”

  Personally, Nia hated it whenever Fiona spoke in riddle or ended conversation in strange quotes; it was something she did quite often, and Nia had a feeling she did it on purpose. But this time, it seemed almost fitting. The fallen leaves rustled across the ground, swirling around one another as a gust of wind grazed by.

  “Um—Nia?” Rowan’s voice broke the silence. He was standing a little ways away from her, inspecting his wrist watch. "I hate to ruin the moment—but it’s quarter-past nine and if I want to get you home before you father decides to bury me alive, then we should have left at least five minutes ago.”

  Nia cursed loudly, causing all of them to jump. “Sorry,” she mumbled sheepishly, blushing. Rowan already has his cell phone pressed to his ear, and was speaking into it quietly. As she made to stand, Quinn and Thor reached down, lending their hands, which Nia greatly appreciated. A surge of vertigo trembled through her and her knees went weak.

  “You okay to walk?” Quinn asked, steadying her elbow.

  “Yeah...I should be.” Nia nodded, offering him a smile. She gave her knees a little shake and the shaky feeling slowly ebbed away.

  “I’ll take it from here.” Rowan nudged Quinn out of the way and wrapped his arm securely around Nia’s waist. “C’mon,” Rowan muttered, gently leading Nia back towards the road. “The taxi should be on its way now...”

  They bid each other goodbye, promising to see one another in school the next day. Fiona had placed her hand on Kenzie’s shoulder, holding it tightly. Nia averted her eyes to the ground, as uneasiness swept through her. She wiggled away from Rowan's embrace a bit as they walked, and she could feel Kenzie's stare on her back.

  "You okay?" Rowan asked.

  Nia could only nod as she wondered how Rowan could be so inept at seeing Kenzie's overwhelming hurt. How could he have ever cared for her at all?

  The cab driver had pulled into Nia’s driveway. Every room in Nia’s house was well lit, and she could have sworn she saw the silhouette of her father dart away from the bay window and into the shadow of the curtains. “Thanks for everything,” Nia mumbled quietly.

  “Anytime.” Rowan gave Nia a crooked smile as he shook his bangs out of his eyes.

  “I’ll see you at school tomorrow?” Nia asked; she mentally smacked herself for not thinking before she spoke. Obviously, Rowan would be at school tomorrow...

  “Of course,” Rowan answered lightly, pushing her bangs out of her face. She must have looked like quite a fright; knees grass-stained, her shirt covered in dirt...Dear God, what will Sam think? Rowan had even weeded out some pine needles from her hair during the ride home. Nia bit her lip and reached for the handle.

  “Wait.” Rowan’s hand crashed upon hers as she turned to look up at him, eyes as huge as saucers. “Where’s my kiss, then?”

  Nia breath hitched up in her throat. Before she could protest, make up a reason why he couldn't kiss her, Rowan’s feather-soft lips tenderly touched hers; he tasted sweet and his lips were warm... Somewhere, hidden beneath guilty and confused, desire uncurled deep with her stomach. Desire was a dangerous creature; as heartwarming as she was, she could also be self destructive. Nia's heart raced as desire raced like poison within her veins with this dizzying high of elation and want, denying any sense of reason or wrong doing from entering her thoughts.

  “Hemm, hmmm.” Nia’s eyes popped open, startled at the cabby’s exclamation. He had been spying on them from the rearview mirror the entire time, an agitated look evident on his leathery face.

  “Creepy pervert,” Rowan mumbled, so quietly that only Nia could hear. Nia had to choke back a fit of laughter, her eyes sparkling with delight as she smirked at Rowan. With a quick “Thanks,” to the cabby, Nia hopped out of the van.

  “Bye.” Nia inelegantly waved, her cheeks rosy with a sudden rush of vulnerability. “Sleep well, Rowan.”

  “Have a pleasant night, Nia,” Rowan gently said, reaching for the door handle. “Dream sweet.”

  Nia exhaled deeply as Rowan slammed the door shut, too exhilarated to care that she was grinning foolishly from ear to ear. She made her way to the house, pr
actically skipping up the steps as her heart bubbled with immense joy. She clambered through the door and kicked off her shoes.

  “You’re five minutes late.”

  Reality popped her bubble of happy as Nia peeked around the corner to find Sam sprawled out in his recliner. He was sitting in such a way that seemed strangely posed. The book he pretended to be engrossed in was upside down, but Nia shrugged and flopped face first onto the couch, feeling lightheaded. That feeling of desire and elation was fading now; confusion and guilt and Kenzie began to poke back in like needles in a pincushion.

  “You seem to be quite the mess,” her father noted, looking sideways from his book, awkwardly flipping it around. He gave her a searching look. “Is there something I need to know?”

  “Nope,” Nia said, stifled by the arm of the couch. She peeked out at him from under her arm. “The rest of our friends joined us up at Hollow Hills Park and I kind of fell down the hill.” Nia paused, surprised by her newly acquired fibbing skills. “It hurt,” she added.

  “Hmm.” Sam stood up from his chair and placed the book on the coffee table. He bent over the couch and placed a kiss on the top of her head. “Well, I’m off to bed.” He stretched widely, his yawn contorting his face. “Glad to hear you had a good time.”

  He began to walk away; Nia counted his heavy footsteps as he walked into the dining room and as he landed with one foot in the kitchen, he stopped. “Sleep well, Nia. I love you.”

  Nia peeked up at him, smiling softly despite the war of desire and guilt that raged on in her mind. “I love you too, Dad.”

  Chapter 12: Zephyrlis

  Amethysts glittered precariously along the edge of the blade. Nia took a deep breath and determinedly placed her right hand against the looking-glass for what seemed to be the billionth time. It felt much different than window glass or the glass that inhabited mirrors; that sort of glass was hard and unbreakable. This substance shimmered luminously like moonlit water, quaking serenely. She cringed, squeezing her eyes closed as she awkwardly pushed her hand forward into the gelatinous mirror. It made an awful slicking noise, nearly causing Nia to gag but she swallowed the temptation back without hesitation.

  I have to get the Sword of Dreams.

  Nia’s eyelids fluttered lightly as she grimaced with fortitude. The familiar pressure was back, starting just behind her eyes and reaching out just beyond her temples. The sensation made its way down her throat and settled deep within her chest, bubbling like boiling water.

  Slowly, concentrating on the area behind the looking-glass, Nia began to open her eyes. At first, they burned and stung but the feeling flickered away until it was a dull ache in the back of her mind, constant and secure. The solid mass in front of her slowly began to soften. Nia could see the Sword. It wasn’t behind the looking-glass any longer. It was there, spinning delicately before her. Anticipation nearly extinguished Nia’s careful concentration, but she quickly recovered. She had come so far—

  A sharp pain shot up her leg. Nia grunted and quickly reached out to snatch the Sword from behind the realm, but it was too late. It was already gone, drifting away from her like a dream scattering from sunlight...

  She was spiraling back down, floating through darkness. She tried to scream in frustration, but her throat wouldn’t open up—she was suffocating...

  “Nia. Nia, wake up.”

  Thor kicked her leg sharply again from under the table. Nia started in her chair, blinking away the weak rays of April afternoon sunshine.

  “I almost had it...” she mumbled sleepily, rubbing her eyes. She cast Thor a near irritated look. “I almost had the Sw—”

  “Shh!” Thor nodded to the classroom door, which was slowly rocking forward creaking softly on the hinges.

  Since the start of the second semester, Nia’s fourth block study hall had been teacher-less. And since the number of substitutes to go around had been slightly diminished due to budget cuts, Mr. Harper—the English teacher who taught the class next door—was forced to watch this class as well, continually walking between rooms every twenty minutes. Nia liked Mr. Harper; he had a laughable sense of humor and wore his heart on his sleeve. However, this afternoon, while most of the class was dozing off after the lunch time rush, Mrs. Sylvester, a severe looking woman briskly walked in, her cheeks flushed with pink rouge. She was a tiny lady but she held authority like a snake stalking a mouse in tall grass.

  Mrs. Sylvester rapped the first row of desks sharply with a ruler that she had found leaning against the white board. The group of students that sat at that table gave with a start. Some snapped right to attention, furtively blinking away any trace of sleep; others jolted away from their mindless doodling or hastily tried to stuff their papers underneath their folders. One boy nearly flipped backwards in his seat, completely caught off guard by Mrs. Sylvester’s hearty wake-up call. The rest of the class stirred, directing their eyes towards Mrs. Sylvester, whose tiny, knobby hands now clutched the sides of her plaid skirt expectantly, her hooded eyes darting around the class with arrogant suspicion as though she were waiting for one of them to admit to pouring maple syrup all over the library stairwell that morning.

  “It is my pleasure to inform you that we have finally found a replacement substitute for this classroom,” she announced.

  Most of the students perked up at this remark. Some of them rolled their eyes and went back to whatever they were doing before. Nia, insistently curious, deliberately inched forward in her seat so that she could peek over her classmates’ heads towards the door. Thor leaned forward also, folding his hand into his chin.

  As Mrs. Sylvester stepped away from the doorway, Nia’s sight blurred. She blinked, digging the heels of her palms into her eyes, but the edges of her vision kept slowly disintegrating into darkness...

  There was a flash of ice white light as Nia found her spectral-self being hurtled through frightening shadows. They were twisted and distorted, like ugly shape-shifting demons, their razor filled mouths opening wide to swallow her whole.... Maniacal laughter filled Nia’s ears as she fell forward, her arms reaching out catch her fall. Something dark and hooded stood in the distance, beckoning with boney, spider-like fingers—

  “Nia!” Thor hissed through clenched teeth, gripping her shoulder roughly in an attempt to keep her seated. Nia’s eyelids snapped open and she sucked in her breath with a harsh swoosh. She was half-way out of her seat, her hands clenching the table with an iron grip so tight, the tips of her fingers were whitish and unsightly. Some of the students sitting nearby had cocked their heads back, eagerly watching her.

  “Is there a problem?” There was a slight Southern twang—not as pronounced as Thor's—to her accent. Her honey sweet voice reverberated through Nia's mind like a hundred thoughts.

  A short woman with pallid skin that stretched across her boney face, stood beside Mrs. Sylvester, her long hands mechanically clasped in front of her. She tilted her thick-rimmed glasses down the bridge of her small, but too-flat nose with interest as she looked over Nia with unnatural large black eyes. Her thick black hair was pulled back into a tight knot and she wore a tacky black smock with lace fringe.

  Nia swallowed her heart back down into her chest and straightened up, watching the new substitute with wary eyes. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  Nia pushed her wobbly legs forward, grabbing her back pack from the floor as she rounded the table and paused expectantly at the teacher’s desk. She looked pointedly at Mrs. Sylvester. “I need a hall pass, please.”

  Mrs. Sylvester looked a bit startled by Nia’s peculiar behavior. "Certainly, Nia."

  Nia swallowed hard once more, trying not to dart her eyes around as much while the sub scratched her ballpoint pen across the small slips of paper. “I’m feeling a little weak,” Nia said earnestly; her legs felt like water and her arms were tingling with static. “I’m going to need somebody to go with me.”

  Thor—already fumbling to shove his books away—nearly stumbled backwards over Nia’s hazard
ous chair that was still about a foot away from the desk. He joined Nia at the teacher’s desk with amending silence.

  “Two hall passes.” The sub held up the two slips of paper, eyeing each of them with doubtfully. Thor reached for his but ended up grabbing both of them as Nia darted for the door. She had seen all she needed to see—the small signature scrawled out on the bottom of the slip.

  Zephyrlis.

  It sent a chill down her spine, a cold tingling chill that numbed her to the bone and made it very hard to breathe...

  “Nia!” Thor called once the door had snapped shut behind him. He took off after her and grabbed the front of her backpack, yanking her backwards. “What the hell is going on?”

  Nia looked Thor hard in the eye, a deathly calm settling between them. “Her aura was about as black as night.” She set off again, feet pounding down the tiled hall while her mind yearned for escape.

  “Black? I don’t get it,” Thor panted, stifling to keep up with her as she rounded the corner towards the library. “I thought you were feeling sick—oh.” He paled, finally grasping what Nia was subtly trying to hint at. “Do you think she is in cahoots with—”

  “Without a doubt,” Nia affirmed, almost taking the words right from his mouth. “It's just like what we talked about at Fiona's last week—remember? After we struck down those winged things in the boiler room? Axel is trying to infiltrate the school."

  There was a moment of awkward silence. “But she was human. An adult human.”