A Warrior of Dreams

by Richard Parks

  "Where are we now?" she shot back.

  "The Dwelling of the Blessed Dead."

  "And what belongs in the Dwelling of the Blessed Dead?"

  Ghost considered. "The Blessed Dead?"

  "Are we either Blessed or Dead?"

  Ghost went along with Joslyn's odd catechism, not really sure where it was headed but strangely eager for the trip.

  "Not now," he said, "just living fragments of the Dream."

  "Very good. Now let's go join the other living fragments of Somna's Dream. Then perhaps it won't be so difficult for you to share yourself with me."

  Ghost leaned on Joslyn till the room stopped spinning. "All right, but when you decide—whether I was worth saving, I mean—will you let me know?"

  Joslyn smiled. "That's one promise I will make."

  And with Joslyn's hand on his arm, the man once called Ghost took his first cautious steps back into the living world.

  Epilogue

  In a place not so very far from Somna's world another dream died. Gahon tried to gather the pitiful fragments together but there weren't enough left to save. He watched the last of them slip through his taloned fingers and vanish.

  So tired....

  He managed a smile. It wasn't difficult; there was humor in his failure—the creatures of Somna's dream actually thought she didn't know. She knew; it was her dream.

  But that isn't how this game is played.

  In that place not so very far from Somna's world Gahon, first called The Lover, returned to sleep. It smoothed his scaly brow and made him less the demon, less the Prince of Nightmares. In time he began a new dream—Gahon chose his images and pictured the game as a chess board this time, saw his pieces in place for the winning move. There was one small obstacle.

  It wasn't his turn.

  Somna chose a piece Gahon hadn't noticed before, a figurine of jade, deep-carved and intricate. She picked it up with long slim fingers and set it before Gahon's king. The stone made a merciless click as it took its place on the board.

  "The Changeling...." he muttered. His opponent just smiled in that infuriating way she had, clearer than words and much more painful. You've lost again. Gahon looked at her. "I still have one move. The final one."

  Somna's smile never wavered. The change was all in her eyes. "Revenge is better than nothing, I'm told. And there are those who settle for that—when they lose everything else."

  "My patience isn't infinite."

  "And that move is yours to make," she said, "whenever you wish."

  Gahon studied the vast dream that was their playing field. After awhile—not long, he remembered that look—he shook his head and let his king retreat into the lost gray places at the edge of the dream. "How long will you test me, Somna?"

  "Till you weary of the Game."

  "Or until I win?"

  Gahon didn't expect an answer and she gave none. Soon the Dream began to change, as it always did whether the moves were planned or not. Gahon studied the patterns.

  "Your move, My Love."

  The End

  About the Author

  Richard Parks has been writing and publishing fantasy and science fiction longer than he cares to remember…or probably can remember. His work has appeared in Asimov’s SF, Realms of Fantasy, Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet, and several “Year’s Best” anthologies. His first collection, The Ogre’s Wife, was a World Fantasy Award Finalist in 2002 and his work has also been a nominee for the Mythopoeic Award for Adult Literature. He blogs at “Den of Ego and Iniquity Annex #3”, also known as: www.richard-parks.com

  Personal Note: “With or without a traditional publisher (I’ve gone both ways), it’s hard for any writer to develop a readership in these days of fractured genres. If you enjoyed AWOD, I would appreciate it if you would consider reviewing the book at Amazon, B&N, or the venue of your choice. Word of mouth and reader endorsements are simply the best advertising there is.”