Dream Magic

by Joshua Khan

  Thorn gulped. He’d met zombies before, even fought one back when he’d first arrived in Gehenna, and his skin crawled as he saw them up close.

  The zombies looked bad enough during daylight hours, but now, in this moonlight-tinged darkness, they were on the far side of grotesque. With swollen bellies, broken limbs, caved-in chests, or just bodies corrupted by age and illness, each zombie wore his or her death differently. They were dressed in the clothes they’d been buried in, thin shifts and tattered rags. A few, from the wealthier tombs, wore tunics or dresses and shoes, but most were barefoot, and their white feet were encrusted with dirty snow.

  Thorn stopped at the edge of the bank while Kath waited a few paces behind. “I’m looking for Tom of Skeletown.”

  The zombies just stared, their mindless, glassy eyes reflecting only the amber torchlight.

  “Tom of Skeletown!” Thorn shouted. “Your wife is here!”

  He’d wait here for a minute, nothing would happen, and then he’d take Kath and her children back. At least he would have tried.

  “Tom! It’s me, Kath!” She shuffled forward, searching the faces of the undead. “Tom!”

  “Watch yourself, Kath.” He didn’t like the way the ice was creaking.

  And he didn’t like the way the zombies were shuffling toward them. They moved with awkward, jagged steps, and Thorn realized it was because of the cold. He could see some covered in snow, completely immobile, like the statues they’d recently passed.

  Thorn recognized a pair of undead.

  First was Fairweather Fred, a farmer from Sepulchre. Fred’s grandson visited him every Sunday. Boy and zombie would head up to the City of Silence and stay there till nightfall. When Thorn had once asked the grandson what they did, he had said, “We just sit there and watch the clouds go by.”

  Next to Fred, with half a jaw, was Eddie the Eel, from a village along River Styx. He’d wanted to be a pirate. He’d even gotten a pair of big gold earrings because he’d heard that’s what they wore. But he’d died without ever having seen the sea. He had a seashell dangling around his neck, and Thorn had seen him put it to his ear, listening to the sound of the waves within.

  The zombies slowly parted. Someone was coming through.

  Kath gasped. “Tom?”

  The zombie wasn’t very broken up; there was just a dent in his skull, which was purple compared to the rest of his bloodless skin. But that dent had been enough. He’d been buried in a nice tunic and breeches, and he wore socks, one red and the other a faded blue. Around his neck was a string of dried flowers.

  “Tom, it’s me—Kath.” She smiled though tears fell. “Your wife.”

  How much did he remember? Tom the zombie turned his head achingly slowly. He didn’t blink his eyes, which had faded to a cloudy silver during his time in the grave.

  Kath walked to the edge of the moat. “I’ve brought someone to see you, Tom.”

  The ice creaked noisily. Thorn reached for Kath. He needed her to step back a bit. He didn’t know how Tom or the other zombies would react to her. There were a lot of them, and Thorn only had his torch.

  “Tom?”

  The zombie looked down at them.

  “Forget it, Kath,” said Thorn. “He doesn’t know you.”

  Tom held out his hand.

  Kath smiled and took it. “Thank you, husband.”

  Then, not letting go of her, Tom turned and marched stiffly up the slope of the bank. The baby started crying as Tom led his wife and children into Old Keep.

  Now what? This wasn’t what Thorn had planned. He’d thought they’d find Tom a mindless creature, then leave. Thorn didn’t want to stay, but he could hardly abandon the family. It might not be safe, and they didn’t know their way back.

  He looked around him, at the undead and the ancient stones. He’d never been inside Old Keep.

  “Wait for me!” Thorn shouted.

  Lily had some serious questions for Gabriel Solar.

  First, Why are you back, ruining my life?

  Second, When are you leaving?

  She still needed to get ready for tonight’s feast. That dress Ying had given her needed wearing. The dove feathers were softer than silk, and she’d had no idea black doves even existed.

  Instead she was here, dealing with uninvited—and unwanted—guests.

  Custard scurried along at her heels, darting in and out through the walls and doors. It was still…strange, the puppy being just as he’d always been but a ghost. He still liked to wrestle with her clothes, but he couldn’t understand why his teeth now went straight through the cloth and his small claws couldn’t grab hold of anything. Then he’d forget about it and spend the rest of the morning chasing his tail.

  Gabriel was up in the Moon chambers. Far away from Ying and the rest of her eastern visitors. The last thing she wanted was trouble between two rival houses.

  And Gabriel was trouble all the way through.

  So Lily continued to climb the spiral stairs, winding around toward the top of the tower.

  What would Mother do?

  Lily had seen her smile at rivals, dine with enemies, and laugh at the jokes of men she’d wanted to kill, all without ever betraying her true feelings. Salome Shadow had been the perfect hostess.

  And fixer.

  Like with Count Helborn.

  He’d been behind raids on neighboring farms. Nothing was ever proved, but everyone knew. He’d dined and danced and then…disappeared. No one had ever mentioned him again. There’d been some strange sounds coming out of the well for the next few days, until her mother had ordered it bricked up.

  Lily stopped at the top of the stairs. She took a deep breath and put on a smile.

  “Let’s get this over with,” she said.

  The door ahead was a perfect circle of black obsidian decorated with the phases of the moon, inlaid in mother-of-pearl. It was quite beautiful.

  Not so beautiful was the man lying asleep in front of it.

  Lily bent down and touched his shoulder. “Sir?”

  It was the fool, the stick-thin man with the knobbly knees. He was the one who’d attacked her soldiers with the inflated pig’s bladder, which he now clutched against his thin chest.

  Pig’s bladder. How pathetic. That hadn’t been funny in five hundred years.

  He lay under a patchy blanket and shivered as he snored. The stone floor was freezing.

  “You poor man.” How dare Gabriel leave his servant sleeping out here! “Wake up.”

  The man twitched and murmured in his sleep. “No…not the gerbils…”

  Lily had no idea what that meant and decided she didn’t want to know. She nudged him again. “Wake up.”

  The fool blinked and looked up at her, bewildered. “M…M’lady Shadow?” His eyes widened in terror. “M’lady Shadow!”

  Lily helped him up, which wasn’t easy, as he was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. He started crying. “Please…please don’t turn me into a zombie….I have uses….”

  “I’m sure you have. And you’ve done nothing wrong.” Lily took out the Skeleton Key and tapped the lock. “Gabriel!”

  He screamed as she marched in. He was in a pair of white silken undergarments and was in the middle of knotting the waist ribbon. He grabbed a dressing gown. “Do you mind? I’m not decent!”

  Lily pulled the fool in beside her. “No, you’re not decent at all! Why do you have this man sleeping outside the door?”

  “He was blocking the draft!”

  Lily groaned. Gabriel was worse than ever, and she hadn’t thought that possible.

  “Mr. Funny”—Gabriel waved at the fool—“leave!”

  Cringing and with knees knocking together, Mr. Funny rushed back out, slamming the door behind him.

  “Mr. Funny? That’s his name?” She couldn’t imagine anyone less funny than that miserable wretch.

  Gabriel snorted. “I assume you’re here to move me out of this flea pit and into superior accommodations?”

  “No. It s
eems to me you’ve made yourself perfectly at home.”

  “And where’s the rest of my luggage? It had better not be stolen!”

  “Dott’s bringing it up.”

  “Dott? What happened to that fat old woman, Mary? I thought she was in charge of guests.”

  “She left,” said Lily. “Abruptly.”

  Even now, Lily felt the loss. Mary, once a huge part of her life, was gone and wasn’t coming back. Mary had betrayed Lily, not meaning to hurt her ward, but it had come between them. Then, one day, Lily had woken to learn that Mary had packed in the night and left.

  But Lily wasn’t going to discuss Mary with anyone.

  Gabriel didn’t travel light. Lily counted five big chests already in the room, each stuffed to overflowing with clothing. There were coats, all white fur, piled on top of the table, and across the bed were row upon row of neatly folded silken underwear. A fresh pair for every day of the year, apparently.

  Lily picked one up. “It’s very soft.”

  Gabriel snatched it from her. “I have sensitive skin. It’s a sign of good breeding, not anything you’d know about.”

  “Why are you here, Gabriel?”

  “Hardly out of choice.” He refolded the underwear and added them back to the pile. “I…I needed to leave Lumina. In a hurry.”

  “Why? You’re heir apparent. Aren’t you?”

  He was everything you’d expect of a noble. Tall and muscular, with elegant long limbs and a head crowned with fine platinum-blond hair; flawless, unblemished skin; and eyes the color and brightness of sapphires. A hero straight out of a fairy tale.

  But he was a Solar.

  And just as the sorcerers of House Shadow were masters of necromancy and the magic of darkness, so the scions of House Solar were masters of light and illusion. And everything about Gabriel was an illusion.

  Lily knew the real Gabriel. She’d seen him last Halloween. For once, and perhaps the only time in his life, Gabriel had told—or shown—the truth. The lanky hair. The pockmarked skin. The yellowed teeth in a jaw that rested on a scrawny, spindly neck.

  But it must have been too painful for him to bear. So now he was back to his usual false self.

  And to think she’d once been destined to marry him.

  “I burned the marriage contract, you know,” she said, just in case he had any ideas.

  “Good for you.” He opened up a small trinket box on the dressing table and drew out a string of diamond-studded buttons. “The war’s going badly, if you must know. Lumina’s losing, and the sultan’s army has besieged the Prism Palace. Father needed me somewhere safe. So I smuggled myself into this band of traveling players, disguising myself as one of them. It’s been awful, a month traveling with”—he shivered—“commoners.”

  “You fled Lumina with just your fool?”

  “I needed entertaining.”

  “Most people settle for a book.”

  “Books are boring.”

  Gabriel’s father had started the war against Sultan Djinn. He’d captured one of the sultan’s sons, K’leef, and held him hostage, all the while raiding the sultan’s lands, robbing his caravans, and destroying his towns, the sultan unable to retaliate because of his imprisoned son. That was until Lily and Thorn had freed K’leef and sent him back home.

  And now the sultan, the lord of fire, was burning Lumina’s towns and cities.

  Which reminded her, she needed to write a thank-you letter to K’leef for the beautiful fire horses he had sent her.

  “I’m throwing a farewell feast for Prince Ying,” said Lily. “The steward says I have to invite you.”

  “The Eagle Knight? I wondered who those blue banners belonged to.”

  “I need you ready in an hour.”

  “An hour?” Gabriel cried. “How can I be ready in an hour? I need at least three servants! I can’t be expected to do up my own buttons!”

  There was a knock at the door.

  Actually, it was more like a hammerblow, hard enough to shake the door on its hinges.

  “Prin’ess?” boomed a voice from the other side.

  “Come in, Dott.”

  Dott entered.

  Gabriel screamed and dove under the bed.

  Dott stared around her, then grinned at Lily. “Prin’ess?”

  Lily pointed to a clear patch of floor. “Put the trunks there.”

  “’Kay.”

  Dott had a boat-sized trunk on each shoulder. Chests made out of dense oak, bound by iron, and shut with a padlock the size of a brick. Each needed two grown men to lift.

  Gabriel’s head poked out from under the bed. “Run for your life! And get help!”

  Dott dropped the trunks with a slam.

  “Be careful with those!” screamed Gabriel.

  Dott turned and peered under the bed. “Don’t be scared. Dott’ll look after little boy.” Then, with one hand, she turned the four-poster bed onto its side. “Ooh, pretty boy.”

  Gabriel was now pressed against the wall, face stark white. “Get away from me, you…you troll!” He pointed. “She’s a troll! She’s going to eat me!” Then, as Dott reached out, he scurried off on his hands and knees to hide behind Lily. “Do something! Something violent!”

  Lily grabbed Gabriel’s ear. “Stop it. Dott’s perfectly harmless. And trolls only eat important people, great enemies and the like. They believe that by doing so they gain some of their adversary’s power. It’s a sign of respect.”

  “Are you saying I’m not important?” Gabriel declared indignantly. “I bet they’d eat me before they’d eat you!”

  “Why are we even having this conversation?” Lily snapped. “Just hurry up and get dressed.”

  Dott lowered the bed and smiled at Gabriel. “Be friends?”

  Mr. Funny groaned as he leaned against the doorframe. He seemed to be coming out of a faint. He waved his inflated pig’s bladder. “I’ll save you, Master….”

  “You’ve got a troll…working for you?” whispered Gabriel, still keeping Lily between him and Dott. “How?”

  “She was found in Spindlewood a month ago, unconscious and badly injured. The Black Guard didn’t know what to do with her, so she was brought here.”

  That was only a small part of the story. No one could figure out how she’d gotten there, and Dott herself couldn’t remember—the injuries had scrambled her memory. All she knew was the name Dott. The Black Guard had wanted to kill her—that was the way between Gehenna and the trolls—but Lily had realized that, despite her size, Dott was just a child, maybe not much older than Lily. And the Gehennish did not murder children. Not while Lily ruled.

  And now, somehow, Dott was Lily’s maid.

  “Friends?” asked Dott, looking a little dejectedly at Gabriel.

  “With you?” asked Gabriel. His face contorted with disgust. “Yuck. How utterly hideous.”

  Lily rested her hand on Dott’s huge arm. “Let’s go and get ready for the feast, Dott. There’ll be music and dancing. It’ll be fun.”

  Dott clapped. “Dancin’ an’ stompin’!”

  Lily guided the troll girl out, then paused at the door and looked back at Gabriel. “You’ve got one hour.”

  The Shadows had abandoned Old Keep a thousand years ago, and nature now ruled. Seeds, drifting in from beyond the walls of Castle Gloom, had found fertile soil, and grown, undisturbed by mortals. Ivy crept over the battlements, thick, black, and shimmering with ice. Scarlet roses bloomed despite the snow, their heads hanging from worn statues like blood drops. Oak trees rose from the broken flagstones, their branches having brought down the walls and now spread out high and wide over the keep. Crooked hedges wound through the hall, draped with star-shaped nicotiana, their perfume thick in the still, crisp air.

  The zombies had become part of this wild garden. They had remained still for too long and become beds for new life. One was covered in drooping bluebells, and another had a cluster of dark purple irises sprouting from his chest. The same magic that had given the undead life
also fed the flowers, making them bloom in all seasons, larger and more glorious than Thorn had ever seen in mere soil.

  Tom brushed the snow off a stone plinth and motioned for his wife to sit down with the baby. Their two older children watched warily.

  Thorn stayed at the entrance, torch in hand. Its flame was weak and smoky. He needed to get back before it burned out, but a macabre curiosity held him. He wanted to see this.

  “He’s named Tomas,” said Kath, tickling the baby’s chin. “Your mom says he looks just like you did, and now and then, I can see it. When he’s smiling, especially. Tom”—she looked up at her undead husband—“he’s our beautiful boy.”

  The zombie gazed down. Each movement was work, the tilting of his head, how he raised his hand, unfurled each finger, one after the other. He reached, ever so slowly, and brushed his forefinger against his son’s cheek.

  The baby started crying.

  Kath laughed. “Your hand’s cold, Tom.”

  Thorn spoke. “We need to get going, Kath.” The torch was little more than a flickering candle now. He nodded to Hammel and Janet. “Say your good-byes to your…dad.”

  Kath stood up and took Tom’s hand. “Let’s go.”

  “Wait. You can’t take him with you.”

  Kath’s expression hardened, and Thorn got a bad feeling about this. “He’s my husband, Master Thorn. I know his…condition may be a little odd, but he’s coming with me.”

  “It’s more than a condition, Kath.”

  “I’ll look after him.”

  “It’s not that. They…deteriorate the farther they get from here.” What he meant was the farther they got from Lily. “You take him back to Skeletown, you’ve no idea how long he’ll last.”

  “Then I’ll stay here. I’ll work in Castle Gloom.” She peered at Thorn, worried. “Could you put in a good word for me with Lady Shadow? I’m a hard worker, and all we need is room and board. There must be a thousand empty rooms in the castle. Hammel’s young but strong. He can help out, and my daughter’s got a keen eye and sews. Please, you have to help us.”

  Thorn looked helplessly from zombie to wife and back. Why was he the one having to sort this out?