by Amber Flora
Cody walked over toward the pond where Ashtyn sat. She was innocent, a product of her environment thrown into a world of war and chaos. She didn’t deserve this, none of them did really. But yet here they all were coming together for a greater cause, or so he hoped.
“Hey there, the fish aren't biting, but you are welcome to join me.”
He looked around confused. Was she talking to him? She had never been able to see him before. How was this happening? He sat down next to her.
“You can see me?”
She giggled, patting the spot next to her.
“Well you’re kind of hard to miss — you’re as big as a bus.”
He laughed, grabbing the fishing pole lying on the grass. He tossed the line into the water.
“I’m not sure why, but I feel comfortable with you, Mr. Mass.” she reeled in her line, baiting the hook.
“Maybe I just have one of those faces, and please, call me Cody.”
He looked up into those striking teal eyes, the eyes she did not have in the human realm. She was certainly beautiful, her wavy brown hair was down, framing her strong cheekbones. She was wearing a yellow sundress that showed off her curves, letting her sun-tanned legs glisten in the moonlight. He realized he was staring intently and quickly looked back to the pond in embarrassment.
“It certainly is a memorable one.”
He looked at her in confusion.
“What?”
“Your face silly.”
He laughed.
“Yours as well, Miss Lane.”
“Please, call me Ashtyn.”
He watched her sparkling eyes dance and it put a smile on his face. He heard a faint noise off in the distance. He poised on his feet, sitting the pole next to Ashtyn.
“Wait here,” he growled as he stalked toward the direction of the sound.
“Hey! Where are you going?” she bellowed.
If she hadn’t already by her outburst, she was going to give the intruder the upper hand. He stalked back over to her. He kneeled down, looking into those glistening eyes.
“I know you won’t understand, but please stay here and try to be quiet.”
She looked at him intensely and then glanced over his shoulder. He needed her to trust
him, if she caused a scene it could give the assailant the advantage he needed to strike.
He didn’t know if Ashtyn could die in dream realm like the other dreamwalkers could, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He reached out, touching her soft wavy hair, tucking it behind her ear. She quirked her smile to one side and nodded. He rose, looking around and listening for the slightest sound. He pulled out the dagger Mac had given him earlier from the side of his boot. He noticed a quick movement off to the left and stalked in that direction. A dark figure raced out of the trees swinging a sword. He crouched, kicking out his leg and knocking the figure onto its back. He went for the weapon. The guy rolled out of reach, lunging to his feet. He was faster than Cody but not stronger. When he swung his sword again, Cody grabbed his wrists with one hand and delivered a hard blow to the stomach with the other. The shadow crumpled to the ground. He knelt down to assess the assailant, but the shadow clocked him hard in the jaw and flashed out of sight.
They were getting too brave. First attacking Cody and then going after Ashtyn on the same night; he was starting to worry his presence was no longer enough to keep the Credo at bay. They knew something he didn’t. Something that was making them anxious and, luckily for him, sloppy. Ashtyn rushed to his side with a worried look on her soft face.
“Are you all right? Who was that person and what did they want?”
Her voice was shaky as she gently placed her hand on his shoulder.
He stood up, softly stroking her wrist, trying to calm her.
“Little Phoenix, I am fine. That man was a traitor but I will not allow him to harm you.” She would remember none of this when she awoke but he couldn’t simply brush it off and allow her to remain in a nightmare; He would comfort her if only for a night. He wrapped her in his arms and was surprised when she didn’t protest. She simply rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes. The remainder of the night he sat with Ashtyn, keeping her company while she dreamt. He had spent nearly every night watching over her while she slept, unaware of the danger that lurked around her. Never once had he had a conversation with her. It was nice to get to know her on a more intimate level. He had imagined many times what it would be like to share a dream with her, for her to see him the way he saw here every night when she closed her eyes.
I awoke feeling amazingly rested I recalled having a strange dream, but it was fuzzy. I couldn’t make out any of the images. It wasn’t until I smelled coffee that I remembered my unexpected guest. I jumped up, grabbing my robe off the back of the door, tying it around my waist and heading toward the aroma. I rubbed my eyes, not believing the fetching sight: Standing in my kitchen, Cody was facing the coffee pot shirtless. His bare back was a ripple of muscles; I could see the tattoo clearly that I had noticed poking out from his collar the night before. It was a series of tribal circles. In the middle of the circles sat a structure that looked like a church. It was a massive tattoo, but he had a massive canvas to cover. His blue jeans hung low on his waist and I could see the lines on the sides of his body; he had a V shape on his abdomen. He still had the makeshift bandage wrapped around him that I applied the night before. Oh, dear Lord, could I handle it if he turned around? I cleared my throat.
“Good morning.”
He spun around, his shaggy brown hair displaying that slept-on look. He looked rugged and primal. He smiled brightly, showing off his deep dimples and pearly whites. I sucked in a breath, praying I didn’t embarrass myself by letting a sigh escape my lips.
“I’m sorry, I should have waited till you awoke, but I saw the coffee sitting on the countertop.”
I opened a cabinet, pulling out a mug, and poured myself a cup.
“Oh no it’s fine; it’s nice to wake up to the smell of coffee.”
I sat on the barstool trying to look anywhere but at him.
“How are you feeling? You look much better. I should change your dressings after you’ve showered.” He leaned on the kitchen island in front of her, shuffling his hair.
“I am feeling much better, thank you. I just needed some rest.”
“The wound looked pretty bad last night. I don’t think sleep is going to cut it.”
He had to distract her, he couldn’t let her check the wound and he sure as hell wasn't about to let her take him to a hospital. He thought about how he would feel if the roles were reversed. He doubted he would have taken such a carefree approach to a stranger with a stab wound sleeping on his couch. Was it possible that a part of her knew him? Perhaps somewhere inside her mind she knew she was like him, different.
“Ashtyn, did your uncle ever talk about Deandra?”
So we're just going to dive into it, I thought. I haven’t even drank my first cup of coffee and exactly why was he referring to my mother on a personal level? It made me uneasy; I pulled the strings on my robe tighter.
“Mr. Mass, while I appreciate your actions last night and I am curious about the knowledge you have regarding my mother, I am going to need some answers from you first. Where are you from, and could you please put on a shirt?”
He laughed and walked over to the couch to pick up his shirt. He slipped it over his perfect physique although the holes from his attack left an ample view of his six pack.
Well, that gave me a little of my concentration back.
“I am from Utah. I was in the city doing business when I ran into you.”
I snorted.
“Utah, do you work on a ranch? How did you know where I lived?”
Cody walked back into the kitchen, pouring another cup of coffee. He had to ease her into this, or maybe he should do it like a Band-Aid: quick and painless.
“No, I don’t work on a ranch. Why would you think that? I knew the address from some letter
s my mom had saved. I have a good memory.” He winked, hoping she would buy it.
“You’re your own ZIP code, you have to do manual labor. How did our mothers know each other?”
She was chatty little thing and strangely concerned with why he was muscular.
“Your questions are sporadic, Miss Lane. What are you wanting to know more about at the moment? How I got to be the size of a bus or about your mother?”
He could tell she was embarrassed by her curiosity; her cheeks flushed as she diverted her gaze.
I shouldn’t have asked so many personal questions, but he was an enigma to me. If all men from Utah looked like that I was seriously going to have to consider relocating.
“I would like to know about my mother most, but you are still a curiosity to me, Mr. Mass.”
He leaned in toward me.
“As you are to me, Little Phoenix, and please call me Cody.”
I instinctively pulled myself back. The familiarity of his words hit me like a boulder. Had he used those words before? Why did he call me that?
“Your mother was an enchanting woman. She was adored by most. Deandra was called upon at very young age to be a leader of sorts.”
He was doing it again, talking about her like he really knew her.
“Adored, was she an actress?” I thought about how stupid that sounded.
When I was younger I tried doing a search on her online, I wasn’t surprised when it yielded no results.
“No, she was a …” He paused trying to select his next word. “Nun.”
I sprung off the bar stool, pacing back and forth.
“A nun! That isn’t possible. Nuns can’t have children; clearly she wasn’t as pure as people had thought! Who is my father?”
Cody rested his elbow on his knee as if we were just discussing the weather.
“No one knows who your father is or if your making was consensual. Deandra was afraid if anyone knew about you they might try to take you from her or harm you. Before anyone could suspect her secret, she fled and no one saw her again.”
My knees buckled and before I could hit the ground strong arms caught me.
“This is a lot to take in, perhaps we should head to the living room.”
I nodded, letting him lead me to the sofa. My mother was a nun and worse, she could have conceived me against her will. My stomach was in knots.
“You say she was fearful of telling anyone, but she obviously told your mother, and who would want to harm a nun or her child? Who was she running from?”
Why hadn’t my uncle told me any of this? I cursed him for having to hear this from a complete stranger.
“My mother was her best friend, and my father believed wholeheartedly in the church. He knew Deandra was special, and he swore to protect her. There were traitors that didn’t like the changes Deandra was making, she instilled order and formed alliances. After she managed to expose the ringmaster, she knew you would never be safe so she asked my father to help hide her. While they were fleeing they were attacked. Elias, my father, stayed behind to fight them off. It was years before we received word you had lived.”
My skin felt ice cold. I wanted to scream and cry and hit something. Nothing made sense; surely if there was a war between churches and religions on this scale it would have been in the news, and why didn’t they just go to the cops for help? This man was talking like a crazy person. He had a vivid imagination, maybe he escaped from a mental hospital? These kinds of things just didn’t happen. Oh God, I was going to be sick.
Cody watched Ashtyn as she sailed into the bathroom. He wanted to chase after her, but he knew women didn’t like men seeing them weakened, so he remained on the couch waiting for her to return. Everything he said had been true. He changed some of the wording around to make it understandable to a human, but he didn’t hold back. He had to tell her the truth; whoever was looking for her wasn’t going to stop anytime soon, and he couldn’t protect her if she didn’t even know why she needed protection. She slowly walked back into the room and resumed her spot on the couch.
“All of this took place in Utah?”
He chuckled even though he knew it wasn’t the moment to laugh. He couldn’t help it, he had expected her to ask more questions, but he couldn’t understand why she was so stuck on the comment that he was from Utah.
“When you dream, is it so realistic it’s sometimes difficult to tell the difference between reality and your dream?”
Her face was uneasy. She placed both feet on the floor like she was positioning herself to bolt at a moment’s notice.
“What does that have to do with my mother?”
He took in a deep breath, hoping he was making the right choice. Like a Band-Aid, he thought. It’s all or nothing. Placing his hands on hers he leaned closer: “Everything.”
Chapter 3
I gasped. One second I was sitting on the couch and the next I was standing in rubble. I looked around and saw destroyed buildings large marble rocks scattered on the ground. The streets were cracked like an earthquake had torn through them. When I looked up there was the remnants of a beautiful building with large pillars and stone statues. One of the statues had its hand stretched out like it was reaching for something or someone; it made my heart ache. Was this real? It couldn’t be, I must have snapped, the trauma of hearing the truth about my mother must have sent me over the edge. I started to pinch my cheeks. “Wake up!” I commanded myself. I turned around, seeing Cody holding his hands up as if to show he didn’t mean me harm.
“What did you do to me? Am I dead? Did you kill me?”
He bent over, clutching his stomach and bellowing out in laughter.
“No, Little Phoenix, you are not dead. If you were dead I doubt we could be having this conversation. You are home.”
I glanced again at my surroundings. “If this is your home then I am not the only one in need of an interior decorator.”
Cody stepped forward, placing his hands back in the air.
“This was my home, it was also your mother's. She wanted a city where everyone could come together. A place that allowed all inside to feel united, connected to the temple so everyone would know the citizenry loved them. This building was her home, Deandra was the High Priestess of the dreamwalkers. My father, Elias, was her guard. Our family lived within these walls. It was a sight to behold, our people flourished here like we never had before.”
I observed my surroundings, the toppled buildings and crumbled remains of what looked to be a glorious city. I couldn’t explain it, but some part of me, some small fraction of my conscious, knew his words to be true. I felt the energy flow through me, the pull of this place bore down on me like a heavyweight. This place, though abolished, had an eerie feel of familiarity, like a magnetic pull. I didn’t want to believe him, thinking he was a crazy person was a far better idea, but when he spoke of this place, of my mother, it was like he was removing a fog over a portion of my memory. Like for the first time in my life I was seeing things how they really are, my life how it should have been.
Cody saw tears forming in Ashtyn’s eyes. He reached for her hand, but she did not move to take it.
“Your father, may I speak with him? Is he with the other dreamwalkers? Most importantly, what are dreamwalkers?”
he lowered his head, closing his eyes and remembering the city’s final days.
“My father died the day your mother escaped; with the High Priestess and her guard gone the Credo took the opportunity to strike the city. They killed and destroyed everything in sight. Few survived the attack, most fled to unknown locations. Dreamwalkers are immortal; we are not gods like the human world would think us to be. We mostly live inside other's dreams, drawing our energy from humans. They can’t see us and we cannot harm them within our realm. While dreamwalkers can be injured or killed inside our own realm we cannot harm mortals. Time here does not flow the way it does in the human realm. I would be close to sixty if I were to live in the human realm. What could be years here
could be a matter of minutes in the world you have grown up in. The council has been around for centuries. They enforce the rules and keep order, but when your mother became High Priestess she persuaded the council to build this city so we would have a place to call our own. When Avonya was built the council was in awe. Dreamwalkers poured into the city ready to settle down and embrace their new home and way of life. After the attack we separated again, each going off on their own. We don’t even have a count of how many actually survived; many are afraid to show themselves. I work for the council. A few years ago we were tipped off that you were alive and the Credo was looking for you. They think your mother had hidden secrets in your dreams; secrets they believe could give them the location of their leader Ser’ie. Deandra managed to trap Ser’ie in a dream, but she told no one where she held him. If the Credo can find him they can resume their plan of taking over dream realm. The council sent me to watch over you and keep you safe. I had no intentions of introducing myself, but I couldn’t have counted on literally running into you in the human realm. I went to keep an eye on you at your home, but when I flashed into dream realm to give information to my partner, I was attacked. That’s when you found me lying in the woods.”
Cody knew he was saying too much. He had hoped to slowly walk her through the events leading up to their unexpected meeting, but she was scared and confused. She needed answers. He wasn’t sure why her uncle had never revealed the truth to her; perhaps he had been kept in the dark as well. It just didn’t feel right to let her live out her days ignorant of her heritage, of who she really was. If she were anything like her mother, Ashtyn would be a powerful force, and there would be people out there people like the Credo that would stop at nothing to get their hands on that kind of power.
He watched her intently, wishing he could read her thoughts. How could anyone come to terms with all of this when they had known nothing about the world they came from?