Dark Consort

by Amber R. Duell

  “Let this be a warning to anyone who thinks they can do better than Rowan,” I said to the dog. He hunched on the dirt, licking his leg. “Thank you,” I softly told him.

  He let out a small whine and glared at Rowan’s trunk. Eyes narrowed, he stood and lifted his leg.

  I gaped, the shock quickly fading, and I laughed. A real laugh. It was a weightless thing, a helium balloon pulling me up, up, up. Every moment leading to this had sucked something away from me. Stolen seconds, minutes, hours of my life exchanged for fear and doubt. But now—now I was buoyed by relief. It was over.

  It’s never over, the grin jeered.

  But it was. This was. That deserved a moment of quiet victory.

  31

  The Sandman

  Nora was halfway to the broken tree line when Halven slammed face-first into the ground beside me.

  Sand burst from my satchel in a protective bubble as I looked around wildly for the cause. Kail lurched toward his brother. I ground my teeth and sent sand out in all directions, searching. It found our enemy in record time—an invisible humanoid nightmare. The fine coating of sand revealed his form, a masculine body with hammers instead of hands. The sand wrapped around him like a second skin. “Duck!” I shouted.

  Kail crouched just as one of the hammers swung at the back of his head. I squeezed my fists, and the sand squeezed too. The nightmare buckled under the pressure. He lay on the ground as stiff as a board. With another wave of sand scouring the area, I straddled the nightmare and slammed my knees into his upper arms.

  “Kill it,” Kail urged. He carefully flipped Halven over, examining him for wounds. “What are you waiting for?”

  “Answers.” My sand returned empty-handed, and I met Kail’s angry stare. “Rowan knows too much about our movements, and I want to know how.”

  Kail flicked a look over my shoulder. “Not the best time for an inquisition.”

  I followed his gaze to find the Blood Army backtracking. They funneled straight for the fallen trees, and a curse flew off my tongue. “Watch this thing,” I snapped.

  “Where are you going?” he asked, laying Halven’s head carefully on the ground.

  “Watching Nora’s back like you promised we would.”

  I lifted myself off the nightmare with a building sense of purpose and drew in a breath, letting it out slowly. With it, my qualms faded. I became the Lord of Dreams—a powerful being responsible for defending both worlds. For protecting them. Such was my penance for what the Weaver and I did when we banished Mare long ago, but this was about so much more. This was about Nora.

  I stepped out from the shelter of crystal pillars, and the Blood Army paused. Decisions, I thought. Me or Nora. But orders were orders. Half of the robed figures shifted toward me, while the rest continued along their original path. It didn’t matter—they would all be dead in a moment. Sand poured from my satchel to circle my hands. A silver glowing orb of pure dream magic hardened around both my hands, and sparks of navy blue popped with anticipation. I drew myself up and shot into the center of the red mist. The other sand I carried flew out in an attempt at snuffing the painful cloud, but there was too much of it.

  That didn’t matter either.

  My lips curled in vengeful triumph, and I crossed my wrists in front of my chest. When I threw them back down to my sides, silver and blue light exploded through the Blood Army. I winced against the brightness as their moaning died off. My chest panged with the sudden explosion of power. I rubbed at my tattoo, reveling in the fact that I wasn’t depleted like I would’ve been months ago. When the white light finally faded, I stared down at the entire Blood Army. Dead. A quick snap of my fingers and the last bit of sand I had domed the bodies, trapping their mist.

  “That would’ve been helpful back at the tower,” Kail screamed from the other side of the pillars.

  I cast a wistful glance at the tree line before rejoining Kail and our prisoner. Nora was okay. If not, I would feel her die. And then I would beg Kail to kill me too, because Kail as the new Sandman was better than living with such a destructive loss. She’s fine.

  “I’m serious,” Kail said the moment I was beside him again. “We waited hours to leave when you could’ve done that.”

  “We needed time to make a plan,” I said. I needed time to mend things with Nora. A selfish thing, I knew, but a few hours wouldn’t have made a difference. “Besides, I wasn’t supposed to be helping, remember? Nora made that quite clear.”

  Kail huffed. “What do you call leveling the entire Blood Army?”

  I cut him a hard look and knelt beside the still-glimmering nightmare.

  “Whatever,” Kail mumbled.

  Halven chuckled, and I jerked at the sound. “You’re awake.” He held his arms up as if to say obviously. I shook my head to clear the ringing in my ears. “Has he said anything?”

  “We were waiting for you,” Kail said, shrugging. “You’re the one with questions.”

  I rolled my shoulders. Of course Kail would still be difficult. “Who told Rowan where we were?” I asked with an exasperated sigh.

  Silence.

  “Do either of you have a preferred method of torture?” I asked Kail and Halven.

  “Break a finger?” Kail suggested, half-hearted. “Rip out a toenail, maybe?”

  I stretched my fingers in an attempt to control myself. It was no wonder Nora broke his mask—too long around him, and I would probably break his neck. “Are you going to help with this?”

  Kail crossed his arms. “Why do you assume I enjoy torturing things?”

  “I assume you want to know who Rowan has spying on you,” I snapped.

  Kail opened his mouth to reply when the nightmare whispered, “Mara. It was Mara.”

  “Wow,” Kail scoffed. “Just threatening bodily harm got him to spill his guts.”

  “Hush,” Halven said, leaning forward.

  “How did Mare know?” I asked.

  Silence. Then: “I don’t know.”

  That was his answer for every following question I asked. Where was Mare? He didn’t know. Was Rowan alone in the trees? He didn’t know. I pushed away from him with a strangled scream. There had to be more. Why would he know Mare told Rowan our location and not know anything else? I ran my hands through my hair and looked out at the tree line. The now unbroken tree line. I froze.

  “Interesting,” Kail contemplated. That wasn’t the word I would have chosen. “Maybe she put them back up to find the one remaining stump.”

  A large, shaggy nightmare broke through the trees. I searched for Nora’s feelings, but only got a quick flash of exhaustion. The dog-like creature ambled away in the opposite direction, but nothing else moved. “I’m going down there,” I said, the not knowing finally breaking me.

  “Don’t.” Kail stepped up beside me. “Nora made him.”

  Nora made that thing? I shook the thought away. She was learning her magic, which included making nightmares. Kail nudged me with his elbow and motioned a few yards down, where another figure walked straight for us. I recognized that purple sweater. My heart ricocheted in my chest. There was no holding me back this time. I ran toward Nora as fast as my legs could carry me. The closer I got, the louder a hundred different screams became—unlike those of the Blood Army, but no less fearsome. I scanned the area behind her, waiting for something else to emerge from the trees. Nothing came.

  Nora stopped where she was and waited for me. A tired smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Her arms circled me when I reached her, holding tight. “It’s done,” she breathed.

  “Yes.” I ran a hand over the back of her head, toying with the ends of her hair. “What’s that noise?”

  “The trees.”

  “The trees?” I asked.

  “I changed them.” She sighed and eased out of my embrace. “This is the Nightmare Realm, and there’s only one way to survive.”

  “One way?”

  Something hardened in her eyes. “Rule by fear.”

  Conce
rn flickered through me at the ease in which she said it. A bit tired sounding, yes, but the words flowed from her mouth as if they meant nothing. “It was Mare,” I said, changing the subject.

  She winced. “Mara? What was her?”

  “She told Rowan where we would be.”

  “But how did she know?” Nora said loudly, eyes wide. “How do you know?”

  I motioned behind us. “We caught an assassin.”

  “Did he say anything else?” she asked, quickly regaining her calm demeanor.

  “Unfortunately not.”

  Nora hung her head and placed the top of it against my chest. “I suppose that means there’s no time to catch our breaths, huh? What are we going to do about Mara?”

  “We?” I asked.

  She squirmed uncomfortably. “You worked together with the Weaver to stop her the first time, didn’t you?”

  Yes. And that was the thing that finally destroyed our relationship. “We did. I like hearing you call us ‘us’ though.”

  “We can do this, can’t we?” She squeezed my hand. “Bring the realms together. Or, as together as they used to be.”

  “We can do anything.” I took her cheeks in my hands and lifted her head so I could see her face. “Including breathe, Nora. We can’t run after Mare without thinking things through.” She wasn’t a nightmare—she was an Ancient. An Ancient that knew how to escape the Ever Safe where the rest of the old beings slumbered.

  “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it,” she whispered.

  I was quiet for a moment as different scenarios played through my mind. We needed to know where Mare was and what she was after. If we could take her to the Day World again, she would be trapped. The alterations the Weaver and I did were still there—still strong. If Nora didn’t have the dream in her, Mare wouldn’t have made it back the first time.

  “Give me the dream,” I said haltingly.

  “What?” she asked, confused.

  “It’s the reason Mare could come back with you. Both Nightmare and Dream magic together—”

  “Yes,” she said quickly. Understanding smoothed her features. “Take it.”

  I pressed the pads of my middle fingers against her temples, my palms shielding her eyes, and felt a pang of regret. This dream was what brought us together and eventually was what tore Nora apart. I was sorry I ever asked her to hold it—but at the same time, if I hadn’t, we never would’ve fallen in love. No matter what Nora became, I trusted her with this information. It hadn’t occurred to me to take the dream before, because—even if Nora could access it—she would never let the nightmares into the Day World. Not with her family there. This wasn’t about trust, though. I closed my eyes and called my magic home.

  It raced frantically to meet my call, and when I opened my eyes, a flickering orb floated in the air between us. I hurried to cup it in my hands without looking down at the sand-made images swirling inside. Without another Dreamer, it would be reabsorbed into me. But a Dreamer with a true heart and a true mind could fuel the magic themselves.

  “I won’t spy or step foot in your realm, so you can build a name for yourself, but give me use of Halven,” I said quickly.

  “Halven?” she blurted. “I promised I would put him and Kail back together, and I just proved I could do that.”

  I took a long breath. “No one knows that but the four of us. Everyone will think Halven is off doing what Halven does while Kail stays to help you. I need eyes here if I’m going to figure out what Mare is doing and how to stop her.”

  “Use Baku,” she said defensively.

  “Baku doesn’t speak,” I explained. “And everyone knows we have a relationship.”

  She chewed her bottom lip. “Fine. But only until you know what’s going on.”

  “Of course.” I kissed the top of her head. “Kail and Halven are where you left them.”

  Nora’s gaze snapped up. “Aren’t you coming?”

  “No.” I held the orb closer. “I have to do something with this.”

  She eyed the glowing sphere hidden in my hands and nodded. “But I’ll see you soon?”

  “Soon,” I said, though I wasn’t sure how long things would take. I smiled anyway. “You can do this, Lady Nightmare. Go on. They’re waiting.”

  Nora toyed with the threads near her wrist until the worried gleam faded from her eyes. Her shoulders slowly squared. “I can do this,” she repeated softly to herself and walked away from me.

  I didn’t watch her long. She was safe, she was strong, and she had allies.

  Instead, I let the beach pull me home, my magic already skimming over the cords in search of one in particular. One that Nora would never dream of hurting, in case dealing with Mare affected Nora the same way it had the Weaver.

  “What is that?” Katie cried, shocked.

  I spun to face her, surprised by her presence enough to forget my search for her cord. “Katie. I was just coming to see you.” This felt wrong. A betrayal, almost, but I also knew it was the best option for both worlds, so I held her gaze. “I have something important to ask you.”

  32

  Nora

  The walk to the Keep was fueled by adrenaline. Excitement. Anticipation. After I met back up with Kail and Halven, after they killed the assassin, everything became a blur. My eyes focused on what was in front of me—a clear pathway to the Keep. Nightmares bowed when I passed, Kail close at my heels. Word spreads fast, I thought but didn’t look away from my destination despite the urge to take in each of their faces. The Lady of Nightmares would rule by fear, and no one feared a thing they knew. I watched Kail from my peripheral vision and understood him a bit better. We were all more than the face we presented to the world. I was Nora to my family. To the Sandman. Maybe to Kail and Halven. To everyone else, I would be something untouchable.

  “Welcome home,” Kail said with a small smile.

  Another step up an incline, and I saw it. The Keep. Half walls rose throughout the entire lawn where before there was nothing. No, not nothing. The Sandman said the Keep was much bigger before his battle with the Weaver. I studied the lines that formed room after room and smiled. An imposing palace for an imposing position.

  “Have them continue rebuilding,” I told Kail. “I want it completed within the month.”

  Kail’s eyes widened. “You could finish it yourself in a fraction of the time.”

  I could, yes. If I wanted a palace made of spies. The walls here could be like those of the Blood Tower—alive with nightmares—but I didn’t want to be watched. First my mother, then the Sandman in my dreams, and here, it was Kail. Defensive measures would be taken to protect myself, but the walls themselves would be painstakingly built using whatever materials my nightmares could find. I wove my way through the construction. It seemed like a waste of resources with Mara still out there somewhere, but I would rule this place and these creatures in my own way. And I would do it without a permanent audience.

  “Have them continue,” I repeated and paused at the door to the Keep. The darkness grinned wide along with me. “Stay here.”

  “Lady.” Kail bowed and took two steps back.

  Inside, the stillness of the Keep washed over me, and I took my first easy breath. Mine. Finally. Lights flickered to life as I shut the door, revealing four other doorways and a set of spiraling stone stairs that wrapped around the entire interior. I stared at the hatch above, knowing exactly what was there, but before I ascended them, I peeked into each annexed room. The closest had a bed covered with a soft, gold-spun blanket, a chest similar to the one Kail had in the museum, and a bookshelf full of trinkets. The next room was arranged as some sort of a macabre living room—the moving heads of nightmares mounted to the walls would be the first thing to go—and the third housed only stairs leading to the basement.

  The final room was instantly my favorite. A large oak table ran the length of each wall with floor-to-ceiling cabinets on either side of the doorframe. Papers covered nearly every inch of the table, and worn bits
of charcoal crunched beneath my feet. The walls played host to hundreds of charcoal sketches of nightmares. Their eyes seemed to follow my every step, though I knew it was only an illusion. I plucked the nearest drawing off the wall, and a sense of peace settled over me. The Weaver’s technique was good—more than good. Every imagined light reflected off a sketched bubble with a tiny person trapped inside. While I wasn’t sure if the inhabitant was part of the nightmare or a rendering of what the bubble would do to Dreamers, I felt every ounce of the Weaver’s creativity. It shook hands with the artist in me, eager to pick up a pencil. A brush. Anything that would get the sudden rush of creative thoughts onto paper. I smiled, biting my bottom lip.

  There was work to do.

  Nightmares to weave.

  Mara to hunt.

  Mara to kill.

  These drawings would help until she was taken care of. The Weaver spent eons at this, so they were undoubtedly valuable outlines. Perfect for learning the loom. I set the bubble drawing on the table and slipped from the room, reluctant to go. But there was something else I had to see. Touch. Feel.

  The hatch to the domed upper level creaked open. I slipped inside and tried not to remember the feeling of the knife as it slid into the Weaver’s chest. The lingering scent of sulfur helped clear my head, but the rust colored stain coating the floor like paint nearly sent me spiraling. Blood. This was the place where the old Nora died and I was born.

  The loom creaked, seemingly aching for my touch just as much as I ached to touch it. The threads vibrated against my skin when at last I reached out and made contact with the machine. More, they seemed to say.