She was undeterred, and soon her greedy attention was caught by something else. “Yummy, those look like stretched-out moonbits.” She drooled over a steaming tray of pastries outside the baker’s, which was being attended by Alice. No way would I buy anything from one of the villagers most suspicious of me.
Quietly, I attempted to guide Stardust away, but she pressed her face against a platter of chocolate pastries and took a deep sniff. “Mmm, it almost smells like a moonbit, too. I haven’t eaten in hours. Buy one for me.”
I tried to walk away, but before I could take more than a few steps Stardust dragged me back over, far too close to the other villagers for my liking; the last thing I needed was for them to notice me talking to myself.
“Just one little snack?” Stardust pleaded.
Alice finished selling a loaf of bread to a young mother and noticed my hovering. Her eyes narrowed.
“She’s glaring at you,” Stardust stated matter-of-factly.
“I know, I’m not blind.”
“Doesn’t she like you?”
I pretended to be admiring wicker baskets on display in a neighboring stall. “If you must know, none of the villagers like me; they find me suspicious.”
I paused when I spotted a familiar young girl I’d been paying particular attention to this past year. She sat on a little stool several yards away near the stall of spices while her mother arranged her wares to sell, clutching a stuffed bear close. Her eyes, puffy from tears and lack of sleep, darted nervously around, as if she expected something as frightening as the nightmares that usually tormented her nights to be lingering within the market. My heart sank as I scanned the air around her and noticed a grey nightmare lingering near her. It was there morning after morning without fail; I couldn’t even recall the last time she’d had a dream.
I hesitated until the little girl’s sniffle compelled me to leave Stardust to her browsing and approach to crouch in front of her. “Are you alright, sweetheart?” I asked quietly.
She rubbed her red nose. “I’m scared.”
Once more my gaze flicked up towards her nightmare but I hastily looked away before I could tumble inside. There was no need to steal a peek; if it was like the others I’d witnessed this past year, it was full of shadows, monsters, and darkness.
“I know. You’ve had a lot of bad dreams, haven’t you? But I promise they aren’t real.” Perhaps after I reached the Dream World I could create a dream for her, so she could have at least one restful night. I stroked her hair the way Mother sometimes did for me and she relaxed at my touch. “What’s your name?”
She offered a watery smile. “Sophia.”
“My name is Eden. Would you like a flower?” I pulled out one of the wildflowers I’d picked from the fields during yesterday’s walk to the village, which the encounter with Darius had caused me to forget was still in my pocket. She hesitated before taking it with a shy smile.
“Everyone says you’re a witch who has magical powers. Is that true?”
I swallowed the lump suddenly invading my throat. How could I truthfully deny her when her accusation was my biggest fear? “There’s no need to be afraid, for there’s no such thing as—”
A horrified shriek cut off my attempts to reassure her as Sophia’s mother noticed me near her daughter. “Get away from her, you witch!” She jerked Sophia behind her and shielded her from me.
I held up my hands. “I meant no harm. She was crying, so I only—”
“Get away!” She stepped menacingly forward, forcing me to back into a neighboring stall. It jostled, causing several apples to tumble to the ground, earning an angry cry from the vendor.
Tears burned my eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any harm. I only wanted—”
The mother’s purple fury paled as she suddenly noticed the white flowers clutched in her daughter’s hand. She snatched them away and waved them in front of me. “What did you give my daughter? Did you curse these?”
I frantically shook my head. “No, I picked them from—”
“Get away!”
She raised her hands as if she meant to physically push me, but before she had the chance I turned and ran. I paused at the edge of the market to glance back at Sophia, whose face was streaked with fresh tears while her mother knelt before her, trying to calm her.
“There, there, darling. There’s no need to cry. Mummy got rid of the evil witch.”
Sophia’s wide eyes lifted to mine, her own filled with fear, causing my heart to wrench. I turned and hurried in the opposite direction, weaving around stalls and villagers, all of whom shrank away as if fearing any contact with me would cast a curse upon them.
It took me a moment before I finally spotted Stardust back at the baker’s, still goggling over the pastries. “You’ve seen enough; we need to leave.”
She pouted. “But we just got here.”
My heart still pounded from the confrontation with Sophia’s mother; its memory only fueled my desire to leave Earth behind and find a place away from the judgmental stares, a place I could finally call home. “Please, Stardust. I can’t stay a moment longer.”
Stardust dug into my bag and rummaged around. “But I’m hungry. I’m sure you have some money in here somewhere. I want one of those tasty-looking treats. If you’ll just buy me a snack for the journey, we can go.”
“Don’t.” I tugged my bag away, but Stardust grabbed hold of the strap and yanked it towards her. “Let go.”
“But I want to try a Mortal moonbit,” she whined.
A few people paused and stared. I resented the fact that Stardust was invisible to everyone but me, undoubtedly making it appear as if I was playing tug-of-war with a ghost.
“Stardust, please—”
She gave another fierce tug.
Rip.
The bottom tore open. Quills, ink, three of my dream journals, The Building Blocks of Magic: A Beginner’s Foundation, and my bottled dream tumbled to the ground. The amber dream spilled out as the jar shattered. Instantly, the dream sprang to life, and a roaring fire whose flames changed shapes and colors erupted in the market center.
Screams and gasps filled the smoke-blistered air; all eyes were riveted to the rampaging flames as they swelled and caught the nearest stall on fire, threatening to engulf the rest of the square. Panic erupted as the crowds fled from the scorching heat. I stood rooted to the spot, frozen with shock, my mind whirling. How was it possible for a dream to interact with the real world?
In the midst of the crackling flames and screams, a new shout was heard. “Look, it’s the witch!”
“She caused the fire with her powers.”
Pointing fingers, glaring accusations. I caught sight of Sophia’s mother in the midst of the crowd as she spotted The Building Blocks of Magic at my feet.
“She even has a book on magic!”
“Get her!” The mob lunged forward. I turned and bolted. Several wide-eyed villagers leapt out of my way; others yanked my hair and scratched my arms in their attempts to grab me. Stardust cried out behind me but I didn’t slow.
I ran blindly through swirls of dense smoke, crashing into stalls and tipping over barrels, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. A knot tightened in my stomach. After all of these years it had finally happened: the villagers had witnessed my magic, and I knew what happened to witches who were caught.
I hurtled down a narrow alley, stumbled into one of the outer village walls, and fell. Dead end. No. There had to be a way out. I frantically combed the wall, searching for grooves I could use to climb over it. Nothing. I was trapped.
“We got you now.”
I spun around. The villagers had caught up. They leered at me, their expressions twisted in disgust, yet their eyes wide and frightened.
“We always knew you were a witch.”
I pressed my back against the stone wall. “Please,” I whimpered. “I’m not a witch.”
They crept closer, merciless to my plea. There was no escape.
“Stay back.
” I summoned my powers, and although they came at my command, I had no way to defend myself—no spells to turn back time, erase memories, or freeze the approaching villagers. I pushed my feeble magic towards them anyway, but all it did was brush against them before fizzling away. Defeated, I shrank against the wall. “Stardust!”
The villagers froze. “Was that a spell?” one murmured.
“Quick, grab her before she finishes it.” A grubby grip dug into my arm, but at that moment Stardust blessedly flew into view, my bag wrapped awkwardly around her plump body. She scooped me up and shot into the air, pausing only briefly several feet from the ground for me to balance on my knees. I peeked down at the villagers gaping up at me.
“She’s floating in the air!”
“She’s getting away!”
I clutched Stardust with white knuckles. “Let’s get out of here.”
Stardust zipped from the village and the multicolored flames consuming the market square. My insides twisted in a pleasant terror at the sensation the higher we flew, like I’d left my stomach on the ground. Far below, the village faded into green patchwork fields that carpeted the landscape and rivers that twisted like strings of ribbon, all lightly brushed with the soft orange and pink hues of sunrise. In the distance was our cottage, looking like a miniature dollhouse tucked against the mossy forest, its surrounding gardens beautiful colored quilts.
“Incredible,” I murmured.
“Isn’t it?” Stardust gushed. “Flying is the greatest thing in the entire Universe.” She skidded to a stop. “Look!”
In the distance, swarms of crowds scurried from the gates like ants bustling from an ant hill. “They’re heading for home. We have to get Mother.”
Stardust immediately swooped down, and moments later landed gracefully in our front garden. I scrambled inside, but the only thing that greeted me was dark silence.
“Mother?” My footsteps echoed as I ran through each room, but they were all empty; even the dozens of Mother’s potted plants that usually filled the house had vanished. I jiggled the knob of her study, but it was locked again. “Mother?” I pounded on the door. No answer. “Mother!”
Stardust slipped through the crack into the study, and after a moment she re-emerged. “Empty,” she whispered. “Most of her Cultivating notebooks and books are gone, too.”
My stomach clenched. “She…abandoned me?” I crumbled to the ground and leaned against the door, the pain from my breaking heart seeping over me, threatening to swallow me whole.
Stardust nuzzled me. “Eden, we need to go; the villagers are coming.”
I didn’t budge. I pressed my hand against the door, cool to the touch.
“Come on.”
When I still didn’t move, Stardust slipped beneath me and gently lifted me, flying out of the house and into the sky. I stared numbly ahead as we were swallowed up by swirls of clouds. Without even asking I knew where Stardust was taking me: the only place I could possibly be safe.
We were going to the Dream World.
Chapter 9
The Dream World appeared to be straight from a dream itself, more beautiful than anything I could have ever imagined. Tall, frothy turrets constructed out of clouds teetered at lopsided angles which defied gravity and stretched so high they disappeared into the perfectly blue sky. Each building’s bricks looked to have been dipped in paints representing different times of day—from the cheerful hues of sunrise, to the pure alabaster white of midday, to the vibrant colors of sunset.
Rainbow bridges crossed twisting streams of golden water. Glowing trees lined the mosaic paths, all blooming in different seasons, leaves carved from emeralds adorning their branches, with jewels growing like plump fruit. The perfume of vibrant blossoming roses—tall as redwoods and surrounding the city in a crescent—permeated the air.
Stardust monitored my reaction with an elated expression. “Isn’t it stunning?”
There were no words to describe the warm wonder I felt would burst from my chest.
Stardust explained everything we passed at a rapid clip. “This is the Dream Realm’s capital, Rosewood, named for the forest that borders it, which is home to unicorns and other magical creatures; we’ll definitely need to pay a visit. That group of buildings right on the border is the Magic Academy, which spans both realms, and is where Dreamers and Nightmares train together in Weaving and various side professions. Next to it are the apartments where the majority of Dreamers in Rosewood live. That building is where the Nature Artists work, and the one over there is where all seasons and weather are created.” Rainbows danced from these windows as we flew past.
“Where do those paths lead?” I asked, pointing.
“The Milky Way Pool, the Enchanted Gardens, and Silver Lake, all of which are some of my favorite places.” She pointed to each in turn. “But that one”—she motioned to a crumbling stone path that ran alongside the forest until it twisted out of sight—“is to be avoided at all costs; it leads to the gate dividing the Dream and Nightmare Realms. You wouldn’t want anyone to catch you poking around there.”
Dreamers dotted the wondrous landscape like wildflowers—strolling the curving paths, relaxing on the manicured silver and gold lawns dotted with star-shaped flowers, or zipping around on clouds, their cheerful murmurs of conversation mingling with the symphony of birdsong that filled the air.
Every Dreamer had colored hair like mine. Several shared my purple ringlets or Mother’s aquamarine waves, but all colors and styles were represented—from magenta tresses and golden locks to vibrant orange braids. All matched the distinct style each Dreamer possessed in their clothing and the designs they painted on their skin, some simple, others with a distinct theme, which were the ones that drew my notice. One male Dreamer resembled an ocean, one female’s style was that of winter and snowflakes; another’s was that of the night sky, complete with miniature stars woven through her hair.
My simple cotton dress and lack of any particular style screamed foreigner, and several Dreamers stared at me with polite yet puzzled expressions as we flew past. I squirmed beneath their curious gazes, but Stardust took no notice. We flew by a cluster of charming but squashy buildings that looked like fluffy pillows, which encircled a fountain spurting multi-colored water synchronized to soft music.
“This is Main Street, home to all sorts of shops and tasty cafés,” Stardust said. “We'll come back later so you can explore them and choose a style. Floating above it is the grand Dream Library, which features the largest collection of books in the Dream World—just over seven million volumes. And do you see the tallest turret in the city center?” It was impossible to miss, as it towered over the surrounding shops like a king over his subjects. “That’s where the Dream Council for the entire Dream Realm resides.”
I could scarcely take it all in; there was too much to see and not enough time to absorb it all. Although everywhere Stardust showed me for the remainder of the afternoon seemed fascinating, there was one place I was most anxious to visit—the one place I knew was connected to Mother.
“Where are the Cultivating Fields?” I finally asked at dusk.
“Ooh, that would be the perfect place to take you.” Stardust immediately changed direction mid-flight and zipped towards a large field on the outskirts of the city, enclosed by floating violet mountains.
The Cultivating Fields were more spectacular than I’d imagined. Sloping fields stretched infinitely in all directions, hedges twisted in ornate designs around plots of flowerbeds, and moonlight spilled across the transparent soil, a glistening window to the vast canopy of stars pinpricking the night below, creating the illusion that the flowers patterning the meadow were rainbows sprouting from the sky itself. Cultivators knelt between the plots and faithfully tended the plants—all in various stages of growth—and Dreamers wandered the rows, carefully examining each flower and filling their baskets with their plucked selections.
I followed as Stardust floated along the cobblestone pathways that wove through the fi
elds like ribbons, my outstretched fingers grazing the flowers we passed as they leaned into my touch, beckoning for my attention. Swirling in the midst of the glowing auras haloing each bud was a unique sensory detail—the lacy layers of frost caressing a windowpane; the soft hum of bumblebees; the sweet perfume of a meadow quilted with wildflowers; and the sweet, juicy taste of a plump raspberry. It was impossible to know which detail to focus on, all as vivid as if someone had bottled them up and locked them within the flowers for safekeeping.
“There are so many,” I murmured. “What are they used for?“
“Dream Weaving, of course,” a sweet voice answered softly.
I turned. A Dreamer about my age smiled at me. She seemed to have sprouted from the field itself, looking like a giant flower in her rosy dress cut in a petal design over shamrock-green tights. Wildflowers were woven through her wavy fern-green hair, with matching blossoms painted across her arms and face. Lush eyelashes surrounded unusually round moss-green eyes, making her appear uncannily curious. With her petite form and windswept hair, she was like a dandelion prepared to blow away at the slightest breeze.
She studied me, head tilted. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you in the fields before. Are you freshly graduated from the Academy?”
My cheeks warmed and I lowered my eyes. Was it that obvious I was a foreigner? Would she distrust me if she knew I was from Earth?
The girl waited patiently for a response, her expression kind. Stardust glanced back and forth between us, quivering with impatience. “Say something.” She hit the back of my legs, nudging me forward. “She won’t bite; she’s not a Nightmare.”
“I’m Eden,” I finally stammered.
The girl’s smile brightened. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Iris.” She curtsied daintily. “Are you here for your first assignment? I would be delighted to help you select the perfect images for your Weaving; I know these fields like the back of my hand.”
“She doesn’t have a Mortal,” Stardust said.
Dreamer (The Dream World Chronicles Book 1) Page 10