Polar Heat

by Simone Beaudelaire

  “I've seen New Age shops before,” Riley said. “Portland has a few. And I've been to Seattle as well. I just didn't expect to find one here.”

  “Well, you did,” Russell replied. His grin made her want to kiss him. “Shall we go inside? See what she recommends to protect your dreams?”

  “Yes,” Riley agreed easily. Hand in hand with her beloved, they entered the one-room shop.

  As she expected, the inside was just as unusual as the outside. One entire wall had been converted into a set of narrow shelves clustered with tiny bottles. Below each one, a printed label described the contents, from acacia to yucca. The back wall, opposite the door, had been turned into a long counter. One end supported the press where the wheatgrass shots were produced. A tray held several tiny glasses. A bucket on the floor appeared to be for spent glasses, though today it stood empty. On the other side, the cash register awaited a sale. The wall opposite the apothecary was completely covered in bookshelves.

  In the center of the room, a woman with blond hair and striking blue eyes sat at a table. The purple sequined tablecloth matched a scarf tying back her hair. She wore a black power suit. The sight of her made Riley smile, in spite of her fatigue and nervousness.

  “Hello, Russ,” the woman said.

  “Amy,” Russell returned the greeting.

  “And you're Riley, right? The new kindergarten teacher?”

  Riley nodded, already used to people who had nothing to do with the school recognizing her. Golden is a small town after all.

  “What can I do for you two today?” Amy asked. “Take a seat and let's talk. You both look stressed.”

  “Riley is a dreamwalker,” Russell said bluntly, urging her into a seat.

  Amy's big blue eyes widened to alarming proportions. “Are you sure?” She turned to Riley.

  “I guess so,” Riley replied. “I've had the same dream as Russell many times.”

  “Oh, interesting,” the woman said. “So, what's the problem?”

  Riley shot Russ a pleading look. He acknowledged her request with a twist of his lips. “Riley has been threatened in the dream. A man from her past stalks her there, tries to harm her.”

  “Are you sure he's not just dreaming?” Amy suggested. “Sometimes one person's recurring dreams can seem like a metaphysical meeting to another.”

  Riley shook her head. “If you could see the bruise he gave me…” I wish Russ hadn't described him that way. Danny is my brother, not a former lover.

  Amy touched her hand. “That's very dangerous, Riley. If you're both so present in the dream that he can hurt you physically, you're in a precarious position.”

  “More than you know,” Riley mumbled.

  Amy gave her a questioning look.

  Riley sighed. They wouldn't be able to keep the secret much longer anyway. “I'm pregnant. I don't want Danny to hurt my baby.”

  “That's a real concern,” Amy said, her lips pinching tight shut. “Jealousy and all.”

  Riley rolled her eyes. “Danny is my brother. Keep that in mind.”

  “Oh.” Amy blinked.

  “He's still a crazy and dangerous asshole though, and I want him out of my dreams. Can you help me?”

  “Of course!” Amy agreed. “Let me think. I'm not a dreamwalker myself. I'm more into herbal concoctions and crystals. These have a long history of traditional uses that can be investigated and proven, at least in an anecdotal way. I think we need to start with personal protection and then move outward to the bedroom and the entire home. Eventually you'll need to see an experienced dreamwalker who can guide you in how to guard your dreams.” Then she turned to Russell. “Can't you help her?”

  Russ considered. “I'd have to look up some theories. I've never encountered anything like a targeted threat there. My father is investigating who to ask. He wasn't sure either.”

  Amy nodded. “Okay. In the meanwhile, let me think. How can we block your dreams from unwanted intruders…?” Amy tapped her fingernail on her front teeth. Then she rose from the chair and began whirling around the shop like a tiny blond tornado. Zipping behind the counter, she disappeared for a moment and rummaged in the embedded display case, returning with a long silver chain from which dangled a silver filigree pendant contained a smooth, matte black stone. “This is black jasper,” Amy informed her. “Wear it all the time. It's highly protective as well as healing. If your brother has been hurting you for a long time, you need it. It's rumored to bring good luck in all kinds of fights, and blocking your brother out of your dreams will be a spiritual battle, for sure.”

  Riley accepted the necklace and hung it around her neck.

  “Let me think… Okay!” Amy raced to the apothecary shelves. Removing a little bottle, she shook a few small brown nuggets into her hand and carried them back to the counter. Another quick rummage brought out an electric hot plate, on which she set a glass vessel. Dumping her handful of herbs into it, she added liquid from a bottle labeled 'blessed water', and turned on the heat. “Rinse with this decoction of burdock roots. It will help you heal negative feelings about yourself. I'm sure that's part of the problem, right?”

  Riley sighed. “Yeah, it is. I feel like such a wuss.”

  “You're not,” Amy assured her, and Russell reached across the table to squeeze her hand. “Your brother worked hard to demoralize you, both waking and sleeping, am I right?” At Riley's nod, she continued. “That's bound to have a deep impact on your self-image. It's not your fault, but you do need to deal with it. To strengthen your psyche. You're not under his thumb anymore.”

  “Okay, I'll buy that,” Riley replied.

  “Now, to deal with the sleep issues. A pillow filled with protective herbs is a good start. Russell, could you get me an empty pillow from the compartment under the left side window?”

  Riley followed her boyfriend's movements with her eyes. Sure enough, under the big windows at the front of the store, a set of drawers, four on each side, had been filled with – Riley didn't know what. But when Russell rose from rummaging in the uppermost one, he held a small ecru-colored sack. “Is this it?”

  “Yes,” Amy agreed. He handed it to her. Riley rose from her seat and joined them back at the herbs display. “Agrimony,” Amy began, shaking a few dried leaves into the sack. The fabric, which appeared to be unbleached cotton, had been fully stitched on three sides and half stitched on the fourth, leaving a small aperture into which Amy concocted her sleep protection recipe. “This will dispel negative influences. Anise to prevent disturbing dreams. Balsam to break up negativity. Bergamot to stop interference and promote restful sleep. You'll need that with the pregnancy anyway. Blue violet for sleep as well. Catnip to protect you while you're asleep.” With a speed that astonished Riley, Amy moved along the alphabetized shelves, sprinkling one herb after another into the pillow. Then she headed back to the drawers at the front of the shop and removed a container, pouring its contents into the pillow. “Buckwheat hulls are for financial prosperity, but they're nice to sleep on.”

  “Hey,” Riley said, “financial prosperity would be welcome too.” They all laughed.

  At last, Amy returned to the table and with a few deft twitches of a needle she seemed to have pulled from the fabric wrapped around her hair, she closed the aperture and handed the pillow to Amy. “See how you like that.”

  Concerned of the effect all those herbs might have on her sense of smell, which pregnancy had rendered so sensitive that the odor of the mop water the school custodians used made her gag, she took a cautious sniff. Mellow citrus, pine and licorice smells blended appealingly together along with a peppery sweetness. Riley burrowed her face into it and inhaled deeply. A sense of calm washed over her. “I love it.”

  “Careful,” Russ urged. “Don't fall asleep sitting up.” He grabbed the pillow and sniffed. “That smells okay.”

  “Glad you both like it. Now for something to sprinkle around for protection.” This time Amy retrieved a plastic sack and again began shaking in herbs, still expl
aining what she was doing until the terms and definitions swam in Riley's mind. “Angelica as a barrier to negativity – lots of that. Basil for positivity and strength. Boneset to get rid of evil and negativity. Calendula for protection and good dreams.” Soon the bag was filled with a mixture of gray-green sprigs and faded flowers. “Sprinkle two thick lines of this under the bed, in a circle without a break to create a double shield against any threatening influence. Nothing should be inside your dreams except the two of you. I'd also recommend making a cross at each corner of the house with it, in case you fall asleep on the sofa or something. I'll mark down the recipe and make a big batch so you can get more. Replenish it frequently.”

  Russ and Riley both nodded. He looked as startled as she felt by the whirlwind of information.

  “And one more thing. I'll make a mixture to burn. Sprinkle this in your fire tonight to cleanse any existing negativity from your home.” Amy hurried back to her herbs, muttering to herself. “Ague root for protection… alkanet for a positive influence… Althea root to attract good spirits… More angelica.”

  By the time they had paid for their purchases and wandered into the street, Riley's head was spinning. Russ looked equally startled. They walked in silence, their purchases clutched in a small fabric bag of undyed cotton, with pale green handles, which dangled from Riley's arm. As they neared the snowmobile, Riley finally managed to ask Russ a question.

  “Why didn't you just tell her Danny was my brother?”

  “I don't know,” Russ said. “I guess I'm just naturally secretive. I don't tell people more than they need to know.”

  “Oh,” Riley said. Then they both fell silent again. Tucking the bag into the compartment under the seat, they mounted the sled and headed home.

  Chapter 12

  By spring break, Riley had reached approximately her sixteenth week of pregnancy. With her brother no longer haunting her dreams, she felt better overall. The nausea had been brief and not too bothersome, and she had just received positive formative evaluations at work. Apparently, the school and the parents were happy enough with her, which helped her relax also. Spring break found her back at the Den'a village, lying on the examination table in the back room of Mrs. Forrest's clinic, with her sweater tucked up around her breasts as the midwife poked at her belly.

  “I think I should do an ultrasound,” the midwife suggested. “You seem anxious, Russell. This can set your mind at ease.”

  “Mine too,” Riley added. “I want to be sure I'm carrying a baby and not a cub… or a litter of cubs.”

  Mrs. Forrest laughed, a dry chuckle. “Yes. That would be good to know. So you agree to the ultrasound?”

  Riley tried not to squeal as the elderly Native woman squeezed icy cold gel on her belly.

  “How is Nasnanna?” Riley asked to take her mind off the uncomfortable sensation.

  “She's well,” the taciturn woman replied. “Her son was born three days after the Potlatch. His father came home to see him. The baby eats well and Nasnanna will be back at work soon.”

  “Will her mother watch him?” Riley asked.

  Mrs. Forrest lifted a plastic… thingy that looked like it came from the Starship Enterprise and pressed it low on Riley's belly, sliding it through the thick goop until she picked up an image.

  “She will bring him with her until he is old enough not to need milk every few hours. Tiny ones are easy enough to bring along. Look, can you see that?”

  Riley fell silent. The ultrasound showed a soft and rapid pulsing. She gasped. “Is that the heartbeat?”

  “Yes,” the old woman replied. “It's strong. Your baby looks healthy.”

  “Thank goodness.” Russell squeezed Riley's hand. He'd been hovering constantly in the two months since her brother had invaded her dream, worried the unfortunate incident had harmed their baby.

  “Here, look,” Mrs. Forrest suggested, indicating the screen. Riley bit her lip as her heart melted. On the screen a small and skinny shape danced and waved tiny limbs. The midwife clicked her mouse and the image froze. “Look,” she said again. “See those lines?”

  She indicated the shadowy picture.

  “Yes,” Riley said slowly. She could see it, but wasn't sure what it meant.

  “It's a girl.”

  Riley's jaw dropped. She turned to Russell, hoping with everything she had that he wouldn't be disappointed. Her heart turned over when she saw the watery grin on his face.

  “A girl,” he breathed. He leaned over Riley and kissed her forehead. “Thank you, love.”

  “You're happy then?” she asked stupidly.

  “Yes, so happy, honey.” He kissed her again.

  “Look,” Mrs. Forrest urged them for the third time. Riley turned her eyes from Russell's and her breath caught as the flailing limb approached the little girl's face and she tucked her thumb into her mouth. Riley exhaled in a soft squeak.

  “That's so sweet,” Russell breathed.

  Riley laid her hand on his cheek and drew him down to kiss his lips. “I love you, Russ. Thank you for our daughter.”

  He didn't speak, but the burning gaze he turned on her was answer enough.

  * * *

  That night, Riley slept badly, troubled by unsettling dreams. It felt as though some sort of beast was prowling around the edges of her consciousness, looking for a way into the protected area she'd erected. She was tempted to reform the igloo where she'd hidden for so many years. Instead, she woke herself up and discovered she was alone in the bed again. This time, the emptiness of the cabin struck her more sharply than the cold. The eerie feeling that she was not actually by herself gnawed at her, and she scrutinized the window, imagining all sorts of glaring ogres in the impenetrable darkness. Terrified, she closed her eyes tight against the threatening shadows, but without her vision to focus her attention on reality, the unseen thing that stalked her mind tugged at her, trying to draw her into its snare.

  “I know where you are,” Danny's voice echoed across the dreamscape that somehow could touch her waking mind. “I'll find you and take what's mine. You can't fight me. You can't escape me. I am always here.”

  The bed jostled violently and a frozen hand closed on Riley's shoulder. She screamed, flailing and managed to connect a solid blow against a wall of muscular flesh.

  “Riley,” a familiar voice murmured in a soothing rumble. “Riley, it's me. You're okay.”

  “Russell?” She turned, trembling, into his arms.

  “Hush, Riley. Hush. What happened?”

  “He's trying to find me,” she sobbed. “He's searching for me. He's trying to get into my dreams and he said he knows where I am!”

  Russell's muscles flexed. “He shouldn't be able to touch your dreams, Riley. And how could he know where you are?”

  “There's a paper trail, I'm sure. I didn't try to hide from him.” Her voice wavered and broke on every word. “I thought once he had my inheritance he'd leave me alone. He thinks I have something, Russ. Something he wants.” She shuddered. Nausea rose up in her belly and she gagged.

  “Whoa there,” Russell exclaimed. “Up you go, Riley-girl.” Russell half-supported, half-carried Riley to the en suite quickly, gathering her hair back. She retched into the toilet and then moaned, throat burning and belly cramping.

  When the spasm passed, Russell sank to the floor and pulled Riley onto his lap. He rocked her slowly back and forth. “Poor girl. That must have been one hell of a nightmare. But, honey, even if he does find you, how do you think he'll get through me? I may look like an ordinary man right now, but you know if you're threatened, Danny will face ten feet and one thousand pounds of claws, teeth and muscle. I won't let him hurt you. I can tear him to pieces and no one would ever know.”

  His words cut deep into Riley. Both the truth and the awareness that the man she loved was not exactly a man. He had different rules, a different moral code than most men. At least, most American men. Conditioned to deal with his own threats rather than resorting to the police, he would kil
l without hesitation. He already has, she thought, recalling the bearskin in front of the fire. He already wants revenge for what Danny has done to me. He won't hesitate. Hating the violence even as she reveled in the feeling of complete safety, Riley nestled closer to her man.

  “How did I get so lucky?” she asked, her head on his chest.

  “I'm the lucky one, Riley. Can you stand up?” He helped her to her feet and filled a paper cup from the sink. “Drink this, and then brush your teeth. It's time to go back to bed. You have another big work day tomorrow.”

  Riley drained the cup and scrubbed her mouth with toothpaste, wanting to rid herself of the vile taste of vomit. Then she let Russell lead her back to the bed. He tucked her under the covers and then crouched down on his hands and knees.

  “What are you doing?” she asked sleepily.

  “Checking the herb rings. Ah, one's broken here.” He scrabbled briefly and then emerged, sliding under the covers beside Riley and pulling her close. “I guess one of us must have erased part of the ring with our foot. We'll have to be careful. I need the mother of my baby to get plenty of rest. No wearing yourself out, Riley.”

  She pressed herself directly against Russell's body, savoring his warmth. “Okay, boss.”

  “That's right, little girl,” he teased.

  She could feel his muscles relaxing now that she had regained her control. “Are you sure we're safe?”

  “Of course, love. What could touch us here? Sleep, Riley.”

  His kiss on her cheek comprised her last conscious thought.

  Chapter 13

  Despite Russell's assurances, Riley continued to feel an increasing sense of emotional discomfort. Each night she checked to be sure that the circles drawn under the bed remained undisturbed. And yet, despite her precautions, she could still feel Danny's threatening presence just beyond her dreams, pressing, testing the defenses. He wanted to get to her, and every time he was thwarted, his rage grew. So great was Riley's anxiety, it began to affect her waking hours as well. Though she felt secure enough at work, in town surrounded by people, the isolation of Russell's cabin no longer seemed like a safeguard for anything more than his privacy – and the privacy of any ill-intentioned person who wanted to come their way. If Russell stepped outside for one of his bear rambles in the woods, she remained awake and alert until he returned, which took a toll on her. Though only two weeks had passed since her nightmare, the harrowing anxiety and lack of sleep had etched marks on her face – dark circles under her eyes, pallor and that haunted expression she used to wear had returned. She looked like a wraith.