Dreamscape: Saving Alex

by Kirstin Pulioff

  I ran until my chest burned and felt like it would cave in, which wasn’t very far. Another one-liner filled my mind. This one I didn’t miss. The condescending tone of my mom’s voice: Some people are more suited to the arts than sports. The words had left a deeper imprint than I wanted to admit.

  My steps slowed, pulled by an invisible weight. Even here, I couldn’t get far without my parents’ voices souring my thoughts. It must be a parent thing, knowing just the right combination of helpfulness and ridicule to sting.

  I yelped as tree branches whipped against my cheek, cutting my pale skin. A drop of blood smeared my fingers when I wiped the scratch. I had to let the distractions go before they killed me.

  Thankfully, between the moving shadows, birds darting from branch to branch, and my own efforts at keeping my shirt pulled down, my attention wandered back to the path. The trail, made of moss, decomposed leaves, and soft bark, felt gentle to walk on. Even though my arms and legs were covered with scratches, my bare feet remained relatively unharmed. It was a welcome surprise.

  I plodded through the forest, avoiding the puff birds and giving a wide berth to the dragon weeds. I dipped under low-hanging branches, scooted past rough bushes, and jumped over piled rocks, all to the rhythm of the Dreamscape theme song. The blisters along my hands and shins receded, and I found myself smiling more often than not, even humming along with the theme. It was like any other walk, except with the same song stuck on repeat. A little annoying, but it reminded me where I was. I needed that reminder in a forest like this, where increasing wonder made me forget the danger.

  Shadows no longer swirled around me. Instead, the further into the forest I hiked, the more light shone down. Steady streams of sunshine followed me like a spotlight as I climbed around the larger branches. The spindly trees thickened, and the trunks twisted around each other, building wider bases until the trees blended into one another. Moss grew between the seams of the trees, creating a wall of soft, green velvet.

  Roots crept across the dirt, tripping me. I slid over the smooth bark as I ran and jumped from tree to tree. The branches extended out like fingers, some draping the ground while others led into the canopy. And then I squinted, studying the trees. I squealed, sending a flush of birds off the lowest branch.

  I recognized the first set of choices from the game. Maybe being here wouldn’t be so different after all, especially if the challenges I faced matched up to the specifics of each level. If I could maneuver through the maze of branches, avoid the legions of puff birds, horned rabbits, and armed jugglers, and make it to the marketplace, I could put this level behind me. It sounded ridiculous, but doable. In fact, the longer I thought about it, the more certain I became. I could do this. I knew the secrets, the shortcuts, and the tools I needed. I could win!

  I jumped on top of a branch and scampered higher. The bark scratched my feet. They itched to climb. A new sense of lightness settled on me the higher I went. Shrugging off the invisible weights holding me back, I pressed forward farther than I should have.

  Thin and smooth, most branches fit perfectly in my clasped hands. I tested my weight, swinging lightly forward and back until enough momentum flipped me over. My confidence grew as each swing synchronized with the theme song’s underlying rhythm. For the moment, I let it all go and spun around again. The contradiction of finding freedom by losing control felt right.

  The branches swayed, bending with my weight. I jumped from one branch to the next, and then the next, disappearing between them as I swung.

  I grinned. Maybe there were worse things than being stuck in a video game. This could be fun.

  I stopped, but the world kept spinning. Leaning against the main trunk, I closed my eyes in contentment, waiting for my balance to stabilize. When I re-opened them, birds sang to me, and the breeze brushed short wisps of bangs off my forehead. Within the sparse branches, tiny forest animals played peek-a-boo. Small yellow flowers grew off patches of moss. I pinched off a bloom and brought it close. The sweet smell of honey tickled me. Apparently this world held treasures I wasn’t aware of. I tucked it behind my ear.

  I sought out other treasures hidden within the web of green stems, hoping for another glimpse of the delicate yellow flowers, but didn’t find any. The branches thinned as I climbed higher, and the bark peeled at my touch. I had gone up too far. I climbed back down to the branches that were thick enough to walk on, and something glittery caught my eye.

  As I leaned forward and looked closer, I saw it. A sparkling object hid under a mess of crisscrossed branches. I grabbed onto the limb above me for balance and swung out, kicking the stray branches away. They snapped back into their natural position, revealing a hidden box. I almost let go of the branch in my excitement. I knew what was in that box.

  I balanced across the thinner branches, holding my breath as they dipped beneath my weight. Doubts crept into my mind. Greed had never overshadowed my rationality before—I didn’t understand why I was letting it do so here. Yet that treasure with its glittering markings called out, and I had to have it. I jumped.

  “Yes!” I grabbed hold of the box, grateful that, at the last minute, I decided against striking it with my head like in the game.

  The strength of the vines held for a moment, and then they cracked. I clutched the box to my chest and closed my eyes as I fell. A pile of decomposing leaves and chunks of moss caught me. I opened my eyes slowly. The small thrill that I was still in the game surprised me, then magnified when I saw the wooden box in my hands.

  Brushing off the damp leaves, I examined the box. A dark red stain outlined the golden spirals around the edges, softening its crude appearance. It reminded me of my first paintings made at recess with fallen fruit from the olive trees. This was much better, designed with a purpose. When I flipped it over, any similarities I saw to my own art disappeared. Masterfully executed leaves, flowers, and bursts of fireworks covered the wood. Only an artist could create something of this quality, but why hide it deep in the forest? It didn’t make sense. Something this beautiful needed to be shared and admired.

  I flipped it back over and unwound the trailing vine from the wooden knob. The box opened, and coins trickled into my palm. The money jingled in a pile, threatening to fall out of my hand. I awkwardly spread my fingers to keep the coins from slipping through, but there were too many. Pieces slipped through the gaps between my fingers. This much gold could only mean one thing—I was rich!

  With this much money, I could buy everything I needed to make it through this game with ease. My mind raced over my options. The coins collided in my hand, and my smile grew wider with each jingle. All I needed now was to find a marketplace and I would be set.

  Marketplaces had everything—weapons, clothes, food, maybe even a shortcut home. My stomach grumbled at the thought of food. I hadn’t stopped running or climbing for long enough since getting here to really feel anything but fear and exhaustion. Adrenaline had quieted all my feelings except the obvious bursts of pain from the burns and scratches. That made sense to me, but for some reason, the grips of hunger twisting my mid-section were unexpected. Hunger threw in an unnerving level of reality. Pain was normal in dreams, but hunger? Hunger was something from real life. Accepting that was harder.

  Luckily I knew where the main marketplaces were, and as soon as I left the dark forest, I could fill that void. I balanced a gold piece atop my forefinger and flicked it up with my thumbnail. The gold glinted in the sunlight. It felt good to be in control of my destiny.

  I loaded the coins into the wooden box and stared at the carvings once more. The craftsmanship astonished me. It seemed elaborate for something as simple as a money box, and leaving it in the forest didn’t seem right. Beauty like this needed to be appreciated.

  I tied the vine from the clasp around my wrist as a makeshift purse. The weight pulled my arm down, but I didn’t mind. The substantiality of it lightened my spirits. The more reality I could grab ahold of, the better.

  But the clasp didn’t
hold, and before I had taken three steps, most of the gold coins had fallen to the ground, rushing out in a steady stream before quieting in the soft dirt. My heart sunk as I watched my wealth disappear.

  “Crap,” I said. In my mind, I had already spent those coins. I spared a moment to look around before dropping to my knees. Sharp rocks cut me from beneath the layer of dirt. Without the sun shining on them, the corroded gold blended in to the soil, making my search twice as difficult.

  My frantic shuffling of leaves hid the sound of breaking branches until a burst of laughter rang out. I froze for a second, then snatched a single coin and the closest stick before running to hide behind a tree. Its bark scraped me as I folded into the tight grooves of the trunk. My quick reaction did little to minimize my vulnerability. If they looked in my direction, my white shirt flashed in the darkness like a flag.

  The people grew louder. How could I have missed them? I pursed my lips and dug my nails into the tree, hoping to get a glimpse of them. There were only so many characters in this game, and I couldn’t think of any I wanted to meet weaponless in the dark forest. I bit my lower lip.

  Judging by their voices and heavy footsteps, I counted two men. They sauntered along the trail, oblivious to me or any of the forest creatures as they trampled over bushes, stomping a flurry of puff birds and horned rabbits underfoot. They didn’t hesitate at the screams of the animals or at the crunch of bones beneath their boots.

  As they passed in front of the tree where I hid, I heard a soft jingling. I lost my inner battle to refrain from looking. Surely nothing that jingled could be that bad. Peeking around the trunk, I saw them and inhaled sharply.

  Two cloaked men passed by with their faces hidden in the shadows of their hoods. Swinging from their hips, a collection of weapons flashed as they marched in unison. Axes, knives, and pipes hung from the rope belts around their waists. That’s where the similarities between them ended. The dark, woven cloak devoured the taller man, excess fabric twisting around his exposed calves. The second man’s stocky frame filled the breadth of the fabric but hung low, dragging behind his feet. He paraded forward with his hands on his hips, exposing a multi-colored suit and exaggerated collar. I exhaled as all the pieces of their costumes came together in my mind. Armored jugglers.

  “Hold up,” the shorter man said, grabbing his friend’s dark sleeve. “Someone’s back there.”

  “You couldn’t have heard anything,” the tall man said in a wiry voice, reading my mind. I had barely moved.

  “My ears,” the first man said, pushing back his hood. His shaved head and rigid face contradicted the jovial outfit he wore. A scowl pressed his eyebrows together, highlighting the dark circles beneath his eyes. On his right ear, a mechanical wheel rotated. He turned in my direction, and I bolted behind the tree, pressing back into the grooves.

  “There! Someone’s hiding.”

  I couldn’t see his arm, but I assumed it pointed at me. Suddenly, the axes and knives hanging from their belts seemed very sharp.

  The knots in my stomach tightened, pulled taut at the ominously slow jingle and shuffling bushes that revealed the men were drawing closer. And I’d been afraid of poisonous flowers and pecking birds. My chest burned with terror. I closed my eyes. The crunching of leaves and thumping of my heart deafened me. Puff birds scurried by on the path.

  “Are you sure, Deakon?” the tall man asked in the same wiry voice. “We don’t have much time to waste here.”

  “If I’m right, it won’t be a waste of time. You know we can’t risk any more spies,” he said. He was on the other side of my tree.

  “Hurry with it, then. I don’t want to be late again.” His words matched the pace of my heart. “The trip north to Berkin took longer than you thought.”

  “Yes, but it was worth it. Just think if we hadn’t gone. We’d never know… we’d never’ve seen…”

  “Maybe that wouldn’t have been such a bad thing.”

  “Hush, Pipes. You know that’s not true. No matter what, we needed to get the word out. You know this is serious now. Without King Helio…”

  “You’re right. You always are. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. It just brings back that awful memory. I hope to never see something like that again. Hurry with this so we can be on our way.”

  “It shouldn’t take long,” he said, and then his gruff laugh assaulted me from behind. His breath warmed my neck, sending chills down my spine. “They’re not all that skilled at hiding.” Deakon pulled me out from behind the tree and threw me to the ground.

  Chapter Five

  I cried out as my knees struck the gravel and my palms ripped open. Red drops appeared on the ground, and I bit back my tears. This wasn’t in the game. All my previous worries about getting hurt or being found disappeared as my survival instincts kicked in. I needed to get out of there.

  “Who’s that?” the taller man squeaked.

  I crawled away while the shorter man answered. “She’s our spy. Who knows how long she’s been following us or what she’s heard. You’re not getting away that easily.” He lunged forward and yanked my legs back. Fresh wounds tore open next to the dragon weed blisters along my shins. I screamed and kicked, twisting out of his grasp.

  He silenced my yelp by curling a rough hand around my face, covering my mouth with sweat and dirt. The other hand pressed me down. Rocks dug into my thighs. I shrunk under his strength.

  “I swear, I’m not a spy,” I pleaded in a muffled voice, gagging between short breaths of air. My eyes shifted from the weapons swinging at his hip to the rotten teeth poking out from beneath his sneer. “I haven’t heard a word, I promise. Just let me go. You have the wrong person!” I struggled to break free.

  “Deakon!” the taller man yelled, his voice suddenly strong as he lifted a shaking hand to cover his mouth. “Let her go.”

  “Are you crazy? We can’t let a spy go, even if she’s a girl. She’s dangerous, and besides, the cause can use the money, you know that.”

  “Deakon, look at her. Her hair…” His voice trailed off and his eyes widened.

  My hair? I lifted a hand to it out of reflex, wincing as it stuck in a tangled heap. I pulled a branch out and looked at the tall man again. Surely my hair wasn’t messed up enough to scare him. I’d take it though. Any excuse to escape.

  Deakon shook his head and leaned closer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Pull out your glass,” Pipes said. “Now! What have you done?”

  The exchange between them startled me. Pipes obviously knew something the other guy didn’t. I just didn’t know what it had to do with me, or how I could use it to my advantage.

  The shorter man fumbled with his pocket and pulled out a large sphere of glass. With one hand still pressing me down, he used the other to lift it to his eyes.

  “In the queen’s name, it can’t be!” he said, dropping the glass. The pressure on my shoulders released, and I fell back to the ground, staring at the men. What just happened?

  “Please forgive me,” Deakon said, dropping to his knees, pressing his forehead to the dirt.

  I shuffled back and my heart slowed. “Forgive you?” I repeated, watching him grovel on the ground.

  “We didn’t know it was you,” the taller man said, pressing his hood back and bowing at the waist.

  “Good grief man, show some respect,” Deakon said, knocking out the back of the taller man’s knees. “She’s not royalty, she’s…she’s…” Every time his eyes darted to me, they sped back towards the ground.

  His friend fell with a grunt and shook his head, regaining composure before he looked at me and joined his friend with his forehead to the ground. “I meant no disrespect, my lady. We just didn’t expect—”

  “Didn’t expect what?” I asked, afraid of their response. Who or what did they think I was? I ran through the list of characters in my mind, holding my breath. Was I the princess, a rogue, another juggler—

  “The Golden Hero.”

 
An image of the game’s opening sequence popped into my mind, a little green man shooting an arrow. The Golden Hero, of course. Why would I think I could go through this world unnoticed?

  “Of course. Yes, I’m here,” I said, pulling my shirt straight and brushing away the dust while I tried to settle my mind. “Please, there’s no need for that.” I pointed to their prolonged bowing and then flipped my hand over, gesturing for help up. If they thought I was the Golden Hero, I was going to work it to my advantage.

  The taller man scrambled to his feet and helped me up. “My lady.” He bowed again.

  “Thank you…” I stalled and raised an eyebrow in question.

  “Pipes, my lady. My name’s Pipes, and this here is Deakon. And we’re humbly at your service.” As a quieter aside to his friend, he said, “Can you believe it? She’s here. She’s really here. Do you know what this means?” His eyes lit up.

  Deakon turned to his friend and opened his mouth to speak.

  “What does this mean?” I interrupted their private conversation.

  “Nothing,” Deakon answered softly.

  “Nothing?” Pipes cried, his excitement overflowing. “Deakon, this means everything! Everything we saw done is no longer a waste. King Helio’s death can be avenged, and Queen Elin can be saved! The rebellion has a chance.”

  I smiled in reassurance, desperately trying to figure out what he meant. For playing this game my whole life, I felt like this was my first time. Nothing made sense. None of these names were familiar, but Queen Elin had to be the pink princess the hero always saved.

  “There’s a chance now, right, my lady?” Pipes asked again. The hope in his eyes was palpable. My heart raced again. Smashing his hopes would be almost as bad as trampling the bird.

  “Yes,” I mumbled, avoiding his eyes. “Of course there’s a chance now. That’s why I’m here.” I brushed the last bits of dust off my shirt and unhooked the box from my wrist. Indentations marked my forearm where the corner had hit me during my fall.