River of Dreams

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River of Dreams Page 18

by Jan Nash


  She quickly snapped the remaining seven glowing necklaces off the stick and put them in her pockets. They were warm. She hurled the now bare wooden staff into the distance and turned to the cave wall.

  She cleared her mind and stepped—

  * * *

  Into the void.

  It was so much worse alone.

  She saw her father, cruel eyes staring at her.

  She had to keep moving.

  Noah. Jed. They were on the other side. It was so black. And she was so tired. Did Noah get through? What if he didn’t have the strength to…?

  Why did Jed write a message? What if that wasted time Noah didn’t have? What if Noah didn’t make it through the tunnel? What if … the message … why?

  URDownwardArrowO. URDownwardPointingatMyFeetO. URDownWhereI’mStandingO. URDownHereO. URHereO.

  You Are Hero.

  Noah and Jed. They loved her. Noah and Jed wanted her to—

  Finn forced herself to take a step forward. As the darkness pulled her backward, she took another step. Noah. Jed. Noah, Jed.

  Noah—

  * * *

  And she burst into the forest.

  She took a deep breath. The dread that was crushing her lifted.

  She heard a humming and looked up to see the hummingbird land on a limb above her head. Finn smiled. “Thanks, but I don’t need your help.”

  She closed her eyes and found herself—

  * * *

  Back in the River.

  She took it in. The anxious buzzing had dimmed. She heard music and laughter. She let it wash over her a moment, then turned to the past dreams and stretched out her arms. She was pulled into a thin strip of Finn-ness, which took her to—

  * * *

  A dream she’d had a long time ago as a child, a happy dream. Eddie was just a puppy. She’d dreamed he could fly as she took him on a walk. The leash bobbed up and down as he took off and landed. It was all young Finn could do to keep the exuberant puppy from floating away. She saw her dream playing out in front of her, the colors muted but all the elements recognizable. There was a tree on the parkway. It was still on their street today: old and gnarly, but beautiful. It had a crevasse running through its center where it had been touched by lightning a long time ago. The tree had lived, scarred, to tell its story. Finn removed the Lochrans from her pockets and put them inside the crevasse. She hoped they would be safe until she figured out how to help the Dreamwalkers they belonged to. Later.

  Just how she’d find her father, if he were there to be found.

  She closed her eyes and went—

  * * *

  Back to the River.

  * * *

  It was time to go home.

  FORTY

  Finn woke up in her room. Her head hurt. Her arms and legs—

  Noah!

  She jumped out of bed, winced as her feet hit the floor. Everything ached, but she had to see Noah. She raced down the hall to his room. He was on the bed, eyes closed. Eddie was sitting, facing the bed, almost waiting for something. She crossed over to Noah’s bedside, her heart beating so quickly.

  Please, let him be okay.

  She took his hand, and a pain shot up her arm. She looked at her palm and found an angry red cut across it.

  All the hurt was worth it if she’d brought Noah home. She pulled his hand to her cheek. It felt warm. She hoped he didn’t have a fever.

  “Noah,” she said urgently.

  Why wasn’t he awake?

  Was she wrong about everything? Was there no way to get him out of his coma? A tear slipped down her cheek. Had all of it been for nothing?

  “Noah,” she whispered.

  She held her breath.

  Waited.

  Nothing happened.

  FORTY-ONE

  The car was still running, but despite that, it had gotten cold a long time ago.

  Julia and Rafe had talked for a long time: about his life as a Dreamwalker, his life since. She was glad to hear it, glad to know more about what Conor had gone through. After a while, he’d fallen asleep, had barely moved since, as if not dreaming had stilled his whole body.

  When his hand had relaxed, she’d pulled it away to tuck it under the blanket for warmth. She just sat, waiting. She wasn’t sure for what, until she saw Finn run across the kitchen toward Noah’s room.

  “Rafe,” she said, already opening her door.

  He was immediately awake and moving.

  They rushed inside.

  Dear God, Julia prayed, please let them be okay.

  FORTY-TWO

  Finn heard the front door open and was surprised when both her mother and Rafe rushed into Noah’s room. Julia crossed to Finn and wrapped her arms around Finn’s head, pulling it tight to her chest.

  “I’m so happy to see you,” Julia said. Finn waited for her mother to ask about Noah, but she didn’t. She just held on, like she was afraid Finn would disappear if she let go.

  “Mom…,” Finn whispered.

  “Yes, Fionnuala.”

  Her mother hadn’t called her that in a long time. Not since she was a little girl.

  “He’s not waking up, Mom. I don’t know what else to do.”

  Her mother let go. “Get Nana. If there’s anything that will help, she’ll know what it is.” As Finn walked by, Rafe gently touched her shoulder before moving to Noah’s bedside.

  * * *

  Finn woke Nana. She sat up. “What happened?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, Nana. He’s not waking up. I…” Finn dropped her head, swallowed by a sense of failure.

  Nana reached over and put a hand on her cheek. “Whatever comes, sweetie, what you’ve done is nothing less than a miracle.”

  Nana grabbed her robe and wrapped it around her. She kissed Finn on the head and headed out of the room. When Finn got back to the kitchen, Nana was already in the shed, getting herbs. Her mom was standing by Noah’s bed, talking to him, hoping he’d talk back. Rafe stood there, like a sentinel.

  Waiting was more than Finn could take. There had already been so much waiting. She grabbed her coat and phone and headed outside.

  It was still dark. And cold, very cold. She breathed it in, felt her lungs react to the chill. The sun was just appearing on the horizon. She headed toward it, running for Jed’s house.

  * * *

  His light was on when she got there. She texted: I’m outside. Through the window, she saw him stand up and look toward her. He disappeared, and a few moments later the front door opened. He ran outside. He was dressed but wasn’t wearing shoes.

  Jed picked her up and swung her around.

  “You’re okay!”

  “Yes,” she forced out, even though she could barely breathe. “Are you?”

  “So very okay. Except for my feet, which are freezing.” He set her down and looked in her eyes. “Did Noah wake up?”

  “No. What if it doesn’t work, Jed? What if, after all we went through, he doesn’t wake up?”

  “What if he does?”

  He looked at her, nothing but joy on his face.

  “What do you remember?” she asked.

  “A bird. Lots of dark rooms.”

  “Caves.”

  “Caves. And it was cold,” he added.

  “Is that it?”

  He nodded. “Am I missing something important?”

  Her father.

  But that was for later.

  “Yes,” she told him, smiling. “You were awesome.”

  He kissed her. “Of course I was. I’ll get my shoes.” He turned for his front door.

  * * *

  They ran back to her house. At moments, Jed was running so fast Finn was afraid he would yank her to the ground. But the one time she stumbled, he somehow sensed it and put an arm out to grab her.

  They were both winded when they got to Finn’s house. When they opened the door, a rush of warm air blew against them, keeping the chill outside.

  Finn kept moving, heading straight for N
oah’s room.

  Her mother stood on one side of his bed. Nana was next to her, rubbing an ointment on Noah’s hands. It had a sweet smell, like a field full of clover. Rafe had taken a step back and now stood, helpless, behind Nana.

  “Anything?” she asked, taking a spot on the other side of the bed.

  “I thought he blinked,” her mother said. “It might have been wishful thinking.”

  Finn reached out and grabbed Noah’s free hand. Nana had already spread ointment on it. The skin was smooth. She leaned down next to her brother’s ear.

  Finn felt his breath against the side of her head.

  In. Out. In. Out.

  She loved him so much.

  Noah had been gone so long, down in that cave, so small and scared.

  “Noah,” she said, “please come back. We’re all here: Mom, Nana, Jed. Even Rafe is here. We love you, and we’ve missed you so much.”

  She waited. As she had all these months. Praying he would come back to her. Helpless to do anything … until she wasn’t helpless anymore. She’d crossed another world to find him. It had to work.

  “Finn?” It was whispered so quietly it was barely more than a breath.

  She lifted her head so she could see Noah’s face. His eyes were open. They were as blue as she remembered.

  He looked at her … and smiled.

  “Right here, Noah,” she said. “I’m right here.”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Almost nothing in life is done by one person, and this book is no exception. Perhaps I deserve credit for having the original idea and for a whole lot of typing, but so much else about River of Dreams was either given or guided by others, a veritable flood of support and nurturing that I (we) could not have gotten through the last few years without.

  So to Kathleen and Glenn Layendecker; Betsy and John Garibaldi; Yair Landau and Susan Purcell; Suzanne Bukinik; Jorge Estrada; Rosie Reyes; Maria Miranda; Sara(h) Meyer; Heather Meyer; Amy Resnick; Mike and Vicki Resnick; Milt Resnick; Ken Coleman; Kathryn Harrison; Greg Walker; Michelle Ashford; Maura Healey; the Milburn girls; Brad Falchuk; Ron McGee; Michael Sardo; Meg Hyman; Samantha Schlumberger; the Harari family; Stephanie Levine; Dorian Karchmar; Margaret Riley King; Blake Fronstin; Jamie Mandelbaum; everyone at Westwood Hills Congregational Church; Rick Commons, Jean Kaplan, and the entire Harvard-Westlake community; the writing staff of Made in Jersey; the writing staff of Once Upon a Time in Wonderland; Bill Haber, Angie Harmon, and the cast, crew, and writing staff of Rizzoli & Isles; Charles Holland, Mara Brock, Salem Akil, Adam Giaudrone, and the writing staff of Black Lightning; Chris Silber, Scott Bakula, and the cast, crew, and writing staff of NCIS: New Orleans … thank you. For anyone I forgot to mention by name, I’m sorry. And thank you.

  To Rina Mimoun and Jen Besser. This book would not exist without you. It would simply be a long, well-typed manuscript. So thank you for helping make it more.

  To my dad, John, who loves me even if he doesn’t understand me. I love you, too.

  With a special shout-out to my sister, Julie, who is literally always there when I need her and provides gentle reminders not to stay “two years too long.” Birds of prey know they are cool.

  For Abe and Hazel, who asked me to write something they could read, here you go. You are both amazing, and I love you more than I have words to say, no matter how much I type.

  And finally to Liz, my first reader, who gave notes I could actually hear on every single draft and kept saying she loved the book even when I was sick of it. You lived long enough to know I sold it, but not long enough to see it. I will never be able to look at the cover without thinking of you.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Jan Nash is a television writer and producer known for her work on Black Lightning, Ellen, NCIS: New Orleans, and Rizzoli & Isles. Originally from Wheaton, Illinois, Jan now lives in Los Angeles, California, with her children and dogs. Hummingbirds are her favorite bird and River of Dreams is her debut novel. You can sign up for email updates here.

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  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Text copyright © 2020 by Jan Nash

  Published by Roaring Brook Press

  Roaring Brook Press is a division of

  Holtzbrinck Publishing Holdings Limited Partnership

  120 Broadway, New York, NY 10271

  fiercereads.com

  All rights reserved

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2019948806

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  eISBN 9781250248855

  First hardcover edition, 2020

  eBook edition, 2020

 

 

 


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