by Zile Elliven
“Tell that to the people who were in that building you blew up.” Her throat had cleared enough to project her anger. She peeked around Fourteen and saw with dread the soldiers’ faces were becoming less impassive. The men standing closest to Aeyli were frowning and shifting restlessly. As she watched, the effect of her magic began to spread, and all the men began acting antsy. At any moment the situation was going to spiral out of control, and someone was going to get shot. What had her aunt been thinking?
“That was an accident, sweetheart.” Aeyli’s hands balled into fists at the endearment. “The whole thing is just a big misunderstanding. If you and your champion will come with us, I’m sure we can all sort it out.” The words may have been sweet, but Stella’s tone dripped with venom.
Now they wanted Fourteen too? Well, they couldn’t have him. Once they figured out about his armor, the Blaike family would no longer need to tiptoe around the magical community. They would roll over it like a bulldozer. And after they pried Fourteen out of it, they could do anything they wanted to him.
Over her dead body.
She began to shake with anger.
Fourteen still had her pressed against the wall with his body, so he felt her reaction. “Don’t worry, I can get us out of this.”
“Are you out of your mind?” she hissed. Had his sense of self-preservation been completely snuffed out by his conditioning? “They have guns. They have all the guns.”
“I have guns.” Was there a trace of wounded pride in his response?
“They. Have. More.” Could she try magic again? After what she had done earlier, she had pretty much decided to never try magic again, but the thought of letting a bunch of monsters get their hands on Fourteen after everything he’d suffered made her tortured throat sting with bile.
Her eyes fell on the gigantic gas tank dominating the space behind their assailants and her half-formed plans collapsed. She had no aim and no control. If she tried anything she’d probably take out the whole marina.
Two of the soldiers in front of them began to shove at each other, jockeying for the front position. It hadn’t turned into outright fighting, but it was moments away. She saw her aunt’s eyes narrow as Stella realized her hired guns were falling under Aeyli’s unintentional spell.
“Everyone back up three feet, now!” Stella pulled at the soldier closest to her.
Fourteen tensed, and Aeyli knew he was about to take the opportunity presented to them to do something incredibly stupid and self-sacrificing. She decided to beat him to the punch.
“Agent Fourteen, retreat!” she said in a commanding voice.
She heard a guttural sound come from Fourteen, and he whipped his head around to look at her, betrayal in his eyes.
“That’s an order, Agent. Get yourself somewhere safe, now!”
She was almost grateful when the deadness of compliance reached his eyes so she didn’t have to see what her order had cost him. Fortunately she wouldn’t have to live with the memory for much longer.
Trying to give him as much of a chance to escape as she could, she took the empty gun she’d tucked in her waistband and lobbed it directly at her aunt. She didn’t want to watch him go, but the sounds of his escape were punctuated with grunts and choked off screams. She couldn’t stop her traitorous eyes—she needed to make sure none of those sounds were coming from him.
They weren’t. As she turned to watch his progress, someone she couldn’t see grabbed her roughly, bound her arms, and shoved her into a dog crate bolted down in the back of a large van.
Through the back window, she saw a surprisingly large number of incapacitated soldiers lying scattered about the parking lot while a smaller group of soldiers chased after Fourteen as he sped away on his motorcycle.
Satisfied she had done her best, she turned to the occupants of the van huddled as far from her as they could get, and she saw her brother Sterling. Before he turned to look at the road, she could have sworn she saw sorrow in his eyes. The peaceful blue of a sleep spell tinted her vision, and she knew no more.
Chapter Twelve
Marshall
By the time they got back to the Boston Chapter House it was late, and the air had a bite to it, making Marshall think of snow.
The moment the team made it through the door, Clayton was on Marshall like a nervous puppy. “I made the calls you asked for. He told me everyone else was busy with their own cases right now, but he was sure you could manage just fine on your own.”
“Damn that Callum.” Marshall frowned. He may have said he wouldn’t bring him up on charges, but he was certainly capable of hanging him out to dry in retribution. He still wasn’t anticipating all-out war with the Blaikes, but knowing he had backup to call on would have been nice. Formidable though his team may be, if a family as powerful as the Blaikes went bad, they were going to be hard to contain.
“The Blaikes were allowed to grow so big because of their loyalty to the Guard. No one is going to want to go against them without substantial evidence,” Adelle said.
“Let’s go into the ’Scape and see if we can find some.” He turned to Clayton. “I haven’t been here since before I became a guardian. Do you have a place for dreaming?”
Clayton’s face lit up. “We just had it redone! You’re going to love it, follow me.” He bounced with excitement as he led the team through the dark, wood-paneled hallway. “We did our best to keep it as traditional as possible, but we added all the modern amenities that wouldn’t be rendered inert by magic.”
The building was smaller than Marshall remembered, but he had been little more than a child when he was last here, so that was to be expected. When he passed an old oil painting of a pastoral scene, he paused causing Jack to bump into him.
“Ow! What are you . . .?” Jack rubbed his arm where they had collided.
Marshall looked at the wall with a quirk to his lips and knocked on the wall where the wainscoting began. After a few beats, the knock was returned. “She’s still here!” he exclaimed.
Jack put a hand on the wall and concentrated. “A brownie?” Referring to the earth spirits known for taking up residence in old homes.
“She kept me company when Da was busy with work. Most of the time she put me to work in the garden.” He grinned at the memory.
“She let you see her?”
“Sometimes. Her fur looked so soft, but she bit me the one time I tried to pet her,” He said ruefully. Rooting through his pockets, he found a mini bag of M&Ms. Knocking again, he placed it on the floor next to the wall and patted it gently before standing.
“Are you two coming?” Adelle’s head peeked around the corner, looking put out. “This was your idea, after all.”
“Keep your bloomers on, we’re coming,” Jack said affectionately. “Our boy here was being nostalgic.”
Marshall looked down at the floor where he had placed his offering and was pleased to see it was gone.
“I think she remembers you.” Jack ruffled his hair, earning a swat.
With a look of annoyance, Marshall did his best to smooth his hair down. Once satisfied no real damage had been done, he pushed Jack ahead of him. “You go first.” He knew Jack wasn’t above messing his hair up a second time.
“Sure thing, boss.” Jack skipped lightly ahead, a movement that looked bizarre on a man of his size, but as Marshall watched, it became less so, as though the universe itself changed to accommodate him. Dreamwalkers sometimes had a strange effect on their surroundings, but for Jack the effect was more extreme.
Marshall caught up with the group at the end of another long hallway, stopping at a set of double doors. Clayton stood in front of them with the air of a game show host ready to present a prize. Once Marshall joined them, Clayton opened the doors and led them inside a lavishly appointed room that could have easily accommodated twice their number.
Marshall was the most likely of the three to drop his body any old place in order to access the ’Scape, so his reaction to the plush, red-velvet couches
and chairs was a polite, if noncommittal nod. Clayton’s face looked as though someone had thrown a rock through his car window in the face of Marshall’s lack of appreciation, but Adelle’s exclamation of pure feminine joy when she threw herself on the closest couch distracted him from his dismay.
“Don’t mind him, Clayton. On our last job, he jammed himself in between two boulders and left his body in the forest for more than a day. The man doesn’t appreciate the creature comforts of life.” She wriggled deep into the soft cushions with an expression of complete bliss.
“Rice Krispies Treats!” On the far side of the room, Jack had taken a large, silver lid off a plate to discover a mountain of cakes and cookies. “Clayton, I could marry you,” he mumbled through a mouthful of food.
Mollified, Clayton walked over to join him. “There are two other trays with various cheeses, meats, vegetables, and crackers, too.”
Suddenly starving, Marshall hurried over before Jack ate it all. Between him and Marshall, they could pack away an alarming amount of food. Being a dreamwalker took a lot of energy—all three members of the team always had their pockets loaded with snacks just to keep them going between meals. With Marshall and Jack both topping out well over six feet, they had it worse than Adelle.
“Save some for me!” Adelle shouted from her position from the couch and was about to get up until she saw Clayton hurry toward her with a loaded plate in his hands. “Thank you, you’re a doll.”
He turned as red as his hair, backed up, and stumbled over a chair, falling into it awkwardly. Once he managed to extricate himself, his hair was a riot of curls, and his clothes were rumpled. Valiantly he tried to pat and tug himself into a more respectable shape while the whole team did their best to not react. “Ahem,” Clayton pulled at his collar as though it were choking him. “Is there anything else you require before I go back to my tasks?”
“This will be plenty, thank you, Clayton,” Marshall assured him.
Clayton was out the door as soon as Marshall had finished speaking, and the team heard a long-suffering sigh as soon as it closed behind him.
“I think he’s cute,” Adelle said.
“Leave him alone,” said Jack. “The poor man would explode if you gave him any more attention, and then what good would he be? Think of Samantha or, if not her, think of my snacks!” He shook a piece of Vermont cheddar at her.
When he realized he wasn’t breathing, Marshall stopped shoveling food into his mouth and focused on getting enough air into his lungs. After all his time as a guardian, it continued to amaze him how hungry he could get during an investigation. It would be easier to plan for if he used the same amount of energy all the time, but it always varied. Until today, he hadn’t had to use his magic outside of the ’Scape in weeks, and he was paying for it now.
He stuffed a pig in a blanket into his mouth and headed to the couch next to Adelle’s. “Once you guys are done eating, join me in my Dreamscape, and we’ll go from there.”
Jack nodded as he made his way through a pile of chocolate-covered pretzels. “What are we in for today? Lake, again?”
“It isn’t always the lake,” Marshall grumbled as he laid his head back against the pillowy arm of the couch.
“Definitely the lake,” Adelle agreed, settling herself into a more comfortable position on her couch.
“It’s nearly always the lake, Marshall,” Jack said around a mouth of food. He stood between a loveseat and a fainting couch, trying to decide which one was more likely to fit his bulk. Eventually he settled on the fainting couch and somehow managed to not look completely ridiculous on it.
Marshall closed his eyes and concentrated on his breath. Immediately his nose itched, and rather than scratching it, he focused on accepting the sensation. Before he could fully accept it however, five new spots on his body began to itch, and he expanded his consciousness to accept those as well. As soon as he fully embraced the feelings, they subsided, and it was then that he began to notice the sound of his companions as they settled into their couches. He heard Adelle sigh and heard Jack struggle to find a comfortable position on his tiny couch. When the sounds came to him, he let them drift through him as though he were made of light, rather than solid matter.
His senses ran together, bleeding into an ocean of colors and light. Marshall let go of any tension he had left in his body and allowed himself to become swept up in the tranquil waves.
They swept over and through him, doing their best to strip away his sense of self—something even a seasoned dreamwalker had to work to avoid. Unless he wanted to become one among billions of other dreamers in the world, trapped in their own personal dreamscape, he had to hold on to himself.
It had been ages since he lost himself to the waves. Their promise of oblivion was sweet, but nothing could compare to being a dreamwalker in the Dreamscape. Once there, the only limitations he had were of his own making. There were no unimaginative dreamwalker guardians; they would be useless to the cause.
Focusing on the feeling of being Marshall, he rode out the siren-like call of the waves and drifted with them where they willed. After an eternity, or no time at all—time was meaningless in the ’Scape—the waves dissipated and gave way to billions of tiny stars. He sent out a soundless call, searching for the one that felt like home and got an answer immediately. A strong, blue star that felt like Marshall grabbed his attention and pulled him in. Countless pinpoints of lights whizzed past him, faster and faster as the blue star grew larger.
Soon it had it encompassed his entire being, painting him in a light so intense he was burning with it, inside and out. He fought to accept it all—the pain and joy, fear and love, all the emotions that tore well-carved paths inside his soul—and simply allow them to be.
When he was younger, this part was effortless, but now entering his personal dream was a battle. A familiar but vital one he didn’t dare lose. If he failed to accept all he was, he’d be leaving a chink in his soul that could be used against him.
Slowly the light lessened, and new colors popped up here and there, forming shapes. The world settled around him, and up and down began to have a meaning again. Overhead, he heard an eagle cry out a greeting. Since he was here on business rather than pleasure, he chose his true form—the one he walked around in the Real in.
“Yay, the lake again,” Jack said unenthusiastically from several yards away.
Before them lay a placid lake, perfectly round with a single, large black rock directly in the center.
Marshall squinted an eye, and the whole lake leaped sideways, appearing under Jack’s feet.
“That’s why I’m always nice to him inside his ’Scape,” Adelle said, walking up to join Marshall by the side of the lake.
“It’s not like I can control what it is upon entry,” Marshall said. Every person in the world had an inner Dreamscape that conformed to who he or she was the moment they arrived. Only dreamwalkers could reliably control their surroundings in the Dreamscape, and even they were only able to shape it after they entered it. “You’re lucky I even let you in here at all.”
“I know.” Jack’s eyes grew serious for a split second, before lapsing back to their usual sparkle. “So, where to from here, boss?”
“I think we should go to the Blaike colony and see what it can tell us. Chances are good Stella ordered everyone to stay awake for the foreseeable future, so I doubt we’ll get access to any personal Dreamscapes tonight.”
“What are we looking for?” Adelle was touching each of her nails in turn, changing their color as she went.
“Any hint of nightmare activity, for starters. I seriously doubt Aeyliana can open demon portals. With her lack of training, she was lucky she managed anything at all in the cemetery.” Marshall spared a quick thought to his hair, making sure it looked acceptable, and for good measure, he told it not to get messy regardless of what happened to it.
“She’s lucky she didn’t kill everyone there, including herself.” Now that her nails were a rainbow of col
ors, Adelle turned her attention to her clothes. In the Real, they all dressed for the job—dark clothing that was loose enough to move easily in, but not so much that it would catch on anything. But in the ’Scape, all they had to do was tell their clothes to have the properties they wished. If Adelle wanted to, she could prance around in a bikini while enjoying the protection of full body armor. She put a hand to her chest, and the dark cloth of her shirt melted and twisted into something silky and colorful that matched her nails.
“Can I drive?” asked Jack, reaching out for Marshall and Adelle’s hands.
“Have at.” He placed his hand in Jack’s and motioned for Adelle to do the same.
Marshall’s Dreamscape faded into a blur of watercolors, and the terrain shifted and warped until the three were standing outside a monolithic castle overlooking a storm-swept sea.
“It looks perfectly normal from here,” Jack said, squeezing each of his teammate’s hands slightly before letting go. “Shall we go in?”
Marshall nodded his assent. There was no sense in wasting time snooping around the outside hoping for clues when what they were looking for was most likely inside.
Adelle snorted delicately. “It figures that the Blaikes would have a medieval castle as their colony. I expect we’ll see downtrodden serfs at any moment.”
“Observation-mode only, guys. There’s no point in letting anyone know we’re here until we know what’s going on.” Marshall waved a hand, and a hole large enough for them to fit through opened in the wall.
After they had all climbed through, he waved his hand and closed the hole behind them. Once he had closed the hole, Marshall felt something akin to a water faucet being turned off—only inside his body. He didn’t feel unduly alarmed, so he paid it no mind.
He’d never been inside the Blaike colony and was surprised to see the inside matched the outside, which was uncommon. In the ’Scape, things were rarely what they seemed upon first glance. He would have been less surprised to discover an old western saloon than what he did find—an empty courtyard that looked and smelled like it belonged in the 1400s.