by Emma Hamm
Stunned silence once more burned her ears. Their eyes had grown large, their fingers tapping against countertops or legs swinging with agitation.
“What?” Lyra blurted.
“This will take a while to explain,” Lydia gestured to the living room. “Perhaps we should all sit down? I promise, I will answer all of your questions and more. There is much to tell and very little time.”
They all shuffled into the warm room with wooden floors and stag heads mounted on the walls. As she walked past him, Jasper asked, “How do you know where the living room is?”
“I’ve been watching over all of you for a very long time,” Lydia replied with a smile. She reached out and brushed a hand over his pink wings. “And hello Bluebell. It’s lovely to meet you.”
She heard the faint sound of an answering chirp and strode into the living room to tell her story. And theirs.
Much later, after they had gorged themselves on cucumber sandwiches and mulled wine, Pitch tucked her into the spare bedroom Jasper had loaned them. Rounding the edge of the bed, he pulled back the covers. “Was it everything you imagined?”
“I didn’t know Burke’s laugh was so deep!”
“I will take that as a yes.” He pulled her into his arms, tucking her against his side.
“And I didn’t know Lyra liked to drink salted water rather than fresh! And Mercy was finally coming out of her shell again. She even ate with all of us. Do you know how long it’s been since she ate a full meal?”
“No, but I’m sure you could tell me.”
“They’re all so much larger in life,” Lydia said with a happy sigh. “I feel as though all my memories of them pale in comparison to the reality. They are so good and kind at heart.”
“You don’t regret choosing them anymore?”
“I will always regret putting them in this position, but they are capable of handling anything thrown at them. This may be the first time I’ve ever thought we stood a chance.”
Pitch squeezed her so hard her ribs creaked. “That is good to know. And your visions?”
“The threads of Time are still foggy and difficult to see through. But some threads are stronger than others now. I believe I may be able to start unraveling. It’s not any kind of prediction, I can’t see past the pieces I unravel. But it’s a start.”
“Are we going to plan around that?”
“Tomorrow. We can speak with Burke, I think the Dream World will be the easiest place to find Malachi.”
“And then we fight?"
She rolled over and cupped his face between her hands. “Are you itching for a battle?”
“It has been a long time since I have seen bloodshed, and I will admit even my siblings are hungry.”
His eyes turned into slices of obsidian. They sparked with malice even in the darkness of the night. It made her shiver. Pitch rarely made her frightened of him, but she was certain he held parts of himself apart from her. For that, she was grateful. She already contained more of his tainted darkness than she wanted to.
“A battle has always been the end game. It’s merely when or where it happens that I need to predict.”
“Then let’s bring the first battle to him, yes? It may not be the war just yet, but we’ll be prepared.”
“Tomorrow. No more talk of death and battle in our bed.”
He leaned forward, kissing her with all the abandon she associated with her man. Not with the monster, not with the beast, but with the man she loved.
“You want to me to go into the Dreaming?” Burke asked.
“Yes. I think it will be the best way to find Malachi. Dreams do not lie.”
“This doesn’t sound like a bad idea to anyone else?” he asked. “If we go into the Dreaming, if he’s devoured a Dream Walker recently, we’re going to our death. You die there and you die in real life.”
“He’s not going to kill you,” Lydia said.
“How can you even possibly say that?”
“Because I will be there. I have already battled him twice, and I can say with certainty that I can handle him. You get me to his dream, and I will distract him while you figure out where he is.”
They were all seated in the living room again. A warm fire crackled and a thick bear skin rug cushioned her feet. All the comforts in the world couldn’t have prepared her to have a child arguing with her.
And that was how she viewed them now. She’d been alive for nearly five hundred years and they thought they could question her?
“And what are you going to do if he kills you?”
“I already answered this question, I’m confident he won’t.”
“What if he kills me?”
“I won’t let him.”
“And what if he finds out we’re looking for him and he moves?”
Lydia’s fingers glowed. She felt the saliva in her mouth turn boiling hot and knew it was also molten gold. “Stop questioning me, Dream Walker.”
“You won't hurt someone you chose for the prophecy,” he muttered. “Threatening me with smoke coming out your nose is not going to make me do this any faster.”
“I did not choose you. Pitch chose you.”
At least that seemed to make Burke hesitate. He cleared her throat, leaned back, and nodded. “All right then. What’s your plan?”
“I just need to know where he is. Then Jasper and Pitch can teleport us all there. We prepare for war.”
“So soon?” Wren asked. “You only just arrived.”
“There is no time to wait, I’m afraid. Malachi and his legion grow stronger with every day. He is masking his future from me, likely thanks to the Five. They’re planning something that they don’t want me to see. That makes me nervous.”
It should make all of them nervous. Malachi was unpredictable on a good day. Not even catching the slightest glimpse of his plans would severely damage their ability to best him. Lydia worried that the Five knew her own plans. Having another God who could see into the future certainly aided them.
She was one woman. One voice. Yet, they had to list to her or all would be lost.
“Okay,” Burke said. “Okay, fine. But I’m not happy about it.”
“You don’t have to be happy about it. Everyone else, please go with Pitch and prepare. This may take a while or it may take a few moments. Either way, we won’t have much time once we locate him.”
She wasn’t a general. Hell, she had never even fought someone. Not really. Fending off Malachi’s advances hardly counted, and Lydia worried she would be in the way. The least she could do was locate him.
Wren leaned over and pressed a sound kiss against Burke’s lips. “Be safe.”
While the others filtered out of the room, guilt bloomed in her stomach and left an acrid taste of bile on her tongue. They didn’t deserve this. A battle meant someone might die. They had just found each other.
There was no way around it. These were the people she had chosen, and it was their fates which rode upon her shoulders. She took and sat next to Burke on the couch.
“I’ve been to the Dreaming before. I can help in whatever way I can.”
“Only Dream Walkers can pass through the Dreaming. I can try to nudge your bubble in his direction once I locate him and merge the dreams. But that’s the best I can do.”
“I can break free from my dream. Wait for me there, and I will join you.”
“Okay then, let’s fly.”
Lydia didn’t wait for his startled expression, nor was she going to explain herself. She dropped out of the real world and slid into the Dreaming.
Tranquility awaited her. Soft filtered light played across her hair as she looked up through water and stared at the muted sun. She hadn’t expected her mind to place her underwater, but it was pleasant in a strange way. It eased her worries, placing her in the quiet state she would need once Malachi spat accusations at her again.
She would be happy once he was gone. The more altercations she had with the Void, the less she liked him.
; The current carried her to the edge of the dream. Her hand passed through its bubble much easier this time, almost as though her dream understood that she wanted to walk, not linger. Water cascaded around her and disappeared into silver starlight.
Burke was waiting. Here in the Dreaming, outside of a dream, he was little more than mist. She could feel his soul even without seeing his face.
“I told you,” she said. Her dream coalesced beneath her feet, dripping glass onto the bubble beneath her.
“I’ve never seen this done before.”
“I don’t know if anyone else can do it.”
“What are you?”
She didn’t have an answer for him. He drifted in a lazy circle before floating away. “You’re made of moths, you know.”
“Malachi said the same thing the last time I saw him.”
“In a dream?”
“No, on the paths of time.”
“Strange. We all look our true form in the Dreaming, I assume you also look that way in Time.”
Lydia had never thought about what she might look like. She had seen Sil was humanoid. But perhaps she had chosen a form. Pitch had.
That begged the question, did she have Sil’s old form? Or had she created an entirely new visage for herself?
She would have to ask Pitch if they all survived this.
They passed a dream made of crystal clear glass. Within the bubble, a woman was suspended inside a bubble of thorns. She had a book pressed to her knees and flipped the page as Lydia walked by. She had no idea what kind of creature the woman was, or if was even a creature, but using a dream to relax was compelling.
Another mist joined them, spiraling around Burke and coiling at Lydia’s feet.
“Are you searching for Malachi?” it asked.
“We are. We need to locate him in the real world to destroy him.”
“I will join you.”
Lydia arched a brow. “Why?”
“His dreams are poisoning the others. We care for the dreams, and he enjoys destroying them. If you want to stop him, we will do everything we can to help.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“Yes,” the Dream Walkers voice deepened in anger. “I know exactly where he is. We’ve contained him, for now, so he cannot hurt any more dreams.”
She quickened her pace, sprinting after the two Dream Walkers as they flowed like a river. More joined, mingling with the others until they were a blanket of white mist rushing toward a single goal.
“Jump!” Burke called out to her. “Your dream can’t keep up!”
Lydia glanced down and whispered, “Come with me.”
Leaving the dream felt like a bad idea. She was not a Dream Walker, and could not find it again if it became lost. The globs of glass climbed up her legs and shrank to curl around her collarbone.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
And she jumped.
Her feet sank into the mist that was surprisingly solid. Running on top of their already moving mass sent her hurtling closer Malachi’s dream prison. The wave of Dream Walkers rolled, pushing her forward until she saw it.
Veins of darkness splintered out of the dream. Thick black ooze dripped from their ends, hardening slowly to make them stretch even further. White mist of Dream Walkers pushed bubbles out of the way, ever vigilantly protecting the precious creatures within.
Lydia slowed, the surrounding light dimming as they approached.
“What is happening?” she asked.
A Dream Walker next to her, feminine in voice and form, responded. “He’s infecting everyone around him. Somehow, he’s learned how to devour powers through dreams. He doesn’t have to even touch the creatures to steal their souls.”
This was worse than she ever could have imagined. Lydia’s blood raged hot and her power flared. Moths burst into flight all around her.
“It’s time to take care of this. Once and for all.” Her fists clenched. “Are you ready Burke?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s figure out where this bastard is hiding.”
She sprinted forward, funneling herself into a stream of white light that speared into Malachi’s dream. Burke twisted in the air and followed her.
There was nothing but darkness in Malachi’s dream. Lydia landed hard, falling to a knee and pressing her fist against the ground before standing. She blinked.
The Void dreamed of nothing? There were no clues. No key points. Nothing but a barren wasteland of night.
“Burke?” she asked.
“I’m here.”
“Can you still figure out where we are?”
“I can locate him, but it will take time. If he finds me, then he will try to stop me.”
“I’ll distract him.”
Lydia reached a hand forward, light already flowing from her palm. It was so easy to flex her power. She whispered life into moths that burst forth between her fingers. They carried her golden magic and spread their warm glow through the dream.
It was then that she saw Malachi. Huddled in the farther corner of his dream, curled into a ball. His hands flexed against his ribs when her light settled on him.
She hesitated. That was not the posture of a man taking down the world. It wasn’t the Malachi she had expected at all. He was smaller, somehow. Younger. Or perhaps merely weak.
“Malachi?” She made sure her footsteps could be heard, padding toward him slowly.
“Go away.”
“Are you injured?”
“No.”
He shuffled his feet, squeezing his body as far away from her as he could.
Lydia could see him now. His emaciated form made her wince. He was hungry, starving, but not for power. A shower of golden sparks erupted from a moth that shredded itself over him. He flinched.
“What has happened to you?” she asked.
“They happened.”
“What have they done?” She knelt in front of him, cocking her head to the side to peer at his face hidden in the crook of his arm. “Malachi, tell me what has happened.”
“They made me feed. I gorged myself on power and I gave it all to them. But the voices are still screaming in my head and I can’t make them go away.”
“The souls you’ve killed?”
“No.” He lifted his head. Tear streaked cheeks were burned red by salt and scrubbing. “My ancestors.”
Something brushed her shoulder. Fingers, but not human ones. Long tipped claws outlined the shape of her shoulders and tapped like a blade against her throat. She wasn’t surrounded by shadows at all. This wasn’t just darkness.
Thousands of Voids, all trapped inside Malachi’s mind, and all starving.
No wonder he had made his choices. Lydia stepped away from him, horror and anger at this fate making her stomach roll.
Villains were meant to be evil. They made the wrong choices because they wanted to hurt people. Not because thousands of souls pulled them in one direction while God-like creatures affirmed those choices were correct.
Her breathing turned ragged. “Malachi, you have to control them.”
“Do you think I haven’t tried?” He stood and threw his arms out. Shadows stuck to his skin like leeches.
Lydia recoiled and her power flared. The shield of light glowing around her had been an adequate protection thus far, but she did not know how long that would last.
“There must be a way,” she whispered.
“You cannot save everyone. You think you are so good, so generous and kind with your golden light and your pure heart. But you forgot me!”
A tear slid down her cheek. There was no answer to that, no way to answer for her own misguided prejudices.
“I am sorry.”
“You aren’t sorry! You chose your own precious prophetic children and painted me as a monster. I became a monster because that is what you wanted! You wanted a beast for your children to fight, a man to take down while the real villains get away with the destroying the world.” He jabbed a finger at her.
“You and your kind are the real monsters here. I am just a tool in the grand scheme but I will be the one who is punished!”
His screaming echoed all around her, shoving the words back at her over and over again.
“I cannot save everyone.”
“But you choose who to save, and you didn’t choose me.”
“I will try.”
“You don’t care enough to try.” Shadows were already threatening to swallow him again. His skin contracted, ribs and pelvic bone jutting forward violently.
“None of this is real, Malachi. This is all created by your own mind. You’re in a dream.”
He shook his head, denying her words and shuddering in pain.
Lydia stretched her hands forwards. She willed the moths to settle upon him, to feed him until he was healthy enough to battle the shades of his ancestors.
Even if it was only in a dream.
They landed with wings outstretched and absorbed into his skin. He swelled with the power she gave him. It was a limited taste, hardly the barest flicker of her magic, but it would sustain him enough in this dream to ensure he survived.
She would try to save him. In her desire to see this ended, Lydia had forgotten how pity could strengthen a soul. How every person deserved life, be they evil or not.
White mist funneled from the ceiling and pooled at her feet. “We need to go.”
“You’re ready?”
“Yes.”
She glanced at Malachi one more time, her heart aching. “We have to do something for him. He’s in pain.”
“For all the things he has done, he deserves it.”
The shadows were already feasting again. What little magic she had shared was nearly gone. The ancestors tormenting him weren’t really there, but he considered them to be. His own guilt was destroying his mind and his Dream World. He poured his power and magic into the nothing of the Dreaming and was tainting it.
“No one deserves this,” she murmured.
Burke anchored himself to her hand, and she shot them out of the dream. The glass bubble around her neck vibrated as soon as they were out of Malachi’s reach. It expanded into a small orb, barely big enough to contain her hand.
“Thank you,” Lydia said. “You have survived many more adventures than you should have. Be free for a time.”