Dreamer (The Dream World Chronicles Book 1)

by Camille Peters

  “He and Eden watched the flying colors together.”

  “Together?” Angel’s face coiled like she was about to be sick.

  “Not together together.” My already warm cheeks burned. “We just sat next to one another.” Though I knew it had been much more than that.

  “Snuggling is more like it,” Stardust muttered. “You were practically glued to each other, providing Spiderweb the perfect opportunity to plant the evidence.”

  Angel’s mouth fell open, rendered speechless, and my face flamed. “That’s not true; we weren’t even sitting that close to one another.”

  “You shouldn’t have been sitting with him at all.”

  Angel folded her arms and gave me a she’s right expression. “It doesn’t matter what you two were doing together, all that matters is that you were alone with him, despite our repeated warnings that he’s not to be trusted. Everyone was fixated on the flying colors, including you, giving that Nightmare ample opportunity. Like it or not, Darius is the most likely suspect.”

  “Finally some sense.” Stardust scribbled Culprit next to Darius’s name. “I don’t know why you’re in such denial over this, Eden. He seemed strangely persistent in getting you to attend the flying colors with him. We already know that was a ploy for him to interrogate you, so why wouldn’t he have also used it as an opportunity to frame you? It’s so obvious that an amateur could have deduced it. Spiderweb is guilty. Case closed.”

  “Then when did he use the potion?” I asked. “As you so annoyingly pointed out, we were together the entire time.”

  “Except for the very end,” Stardust said triumphantly. My stomach knotted. Comets, she was right. She smirked. “See? Everything fits together perfectly. As I said, case closed.”

  Iris pressed her thumb to her lips thoughtfully. “If all this is true, why would Darius set Eden up only to help clear the charges against her?”

  Stardust ruffled her notebook pages. “There are plenty of reasons: to make Eden look suspicious to the Council, forcing them to give her an ultimatum; to terminate their weaving partnership before Eden becomes too skilled; to make himself appear better to the Council in order to ensure his place on it…” She wrote each down one by one as she stated them. “Perhaps the best reason of all is simply because he’s a Nightmare. Need I say more?”

  Angel frowned. “True. Being a Nightmare would make him naturally desirous to tip the balance in his favor.”

  Stardust nodded in agreement, but Angel’s words only reminded me of my conversation with Darius during our Weaving about his fervent desires to maintain the balance. Even now, several days later, I could still remember the fervor which had filled his eyes.

  “But he wouldn’t,” I said. “If anything, Darius is anxious to maintain the balance. Remember his concern about the increasing number of dream dust thefts only a few Weavings ago? He’s the last Nightmare who would disrupt it.”

  “Another act so you wouldn’t be suspicious of him,” Stardust said. “He’s sly, I’ll give him that, but nothing gets past Detective Stardust.”

  “I’m telling you it wasn’t him.”

  “Why are you defending a Nightmare, especially one who’s had it out for you since the beginning?”

  Angel’s frown was suspicious. “I think we all want to hear the answer to that.”

  How could I explain? I’d been confused by the feelings I’d been experiencing from the moment and Darius and I had met, the strange need I had for his friendship, the intense desires to trust him, the way he’d made me feel from a single touch…

  I lowered my voice so only Stardust could hear. “Despite having the perfect opportunity, he didn’t reveal my secrets, even when he had the chance.”

  That thankfully silenced her…for now. Concentration furrowed her brow as she studied her notes. “But if it wasn’t him, then who was it?”

  The arguments began once more, but I was too weary to participate. I slid my weaving bag off my shoulder to put it away and paused; it seemed heavier than usual. Curious, I peered inside. Carefully nestled amidst my dream flowers was the snow globe Darius had seen me admire at the festival. A piece of parchment was tied around it, written in Darius’s cursive scrawl:

  I’m sorry about what happened at the flying colors. It was inexcusable.

  I hope we can still be friends.

  I stared breathlessly. I caressed the smooth orb set in its gold, amethyst-encrusted stand before reaching inside to shake it. A recreation of the flying colors lit up the globe, full of glitter, light, and color, dancing like a waltz.

  “What do you think, Eden?”

  I hastily closed my bag to hide Darius’s gift and blinked guiltily at the three gazes which had settled on me. “What do I think about what?”

  Stardust rolled her rainbow eyes towards the ceiling. “About Angel’s point that the only other Nightmares you were alone with today were Blaze and Trinity, who insisted on speaking with you in private. It’s an interesting theory, and we even have something to back it up—remember we saw them at the cultivating display with some of their Nightmare cronies and Blaze gave one of them something? They could have easily been plotting something. I wish now more than ever I’d managed to overhear what they were talking about and hadn’t lost them when I tried to follow them. But as sound as this particular theory is, there is one problem—they’ve never seen you perform magic, so when would they have had the opportunity to get a sample of your dream dust? It sure is perplexing…”

  “Uh-huh.” I was only half listening as I stroked the snow globe hidden inside my bag.

  “I wonder if I have any notes about some of the Nightmares they were with,” Stardust continued, oblivious to my inattention. “That wolf one in particular seemed mighty suspicious, as did the one with the mold motif. This requires more evidence.”

  She flew to the dresser and rummaged through drawers, muttering to herself, and returned a moment later with a teetering pile of books stacked on top of herself. Several tumbled from the heap.

  “Comets.”

  A notebook landed facedown next to me, its cover familiar. Stardust’s eyes widened as I stooped to pick it up. “Don’t touch that one.” She darted over, but I took it before she could grab it. My heart jolted at the familiar loopy penmanship.

  Mother’s notebook.

  Chapter 30

  I stroked the cover in a daze. A piece of Mother had emerged from the ashes, having survived the fire that had swallowed my past in flames. It was like seeing a ghost.

  I hugged it to my chest and turned towards Stardust, now entirely occupied with arranging her books in a perfect stack. “Did you take it?”

  She hummed to herself as if she hadn’t heard me.

  “Stardust, where did you get this?”

  She guiltily peeked over her book tower. “I borrowed it the night we snooped in your Mother’s study because I thought it could be a valuable clue.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you’d taken it?”

  She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Because your house burned down and your Mother disappeared. Then with all the evidence you were finding about her likely being the Weaver the Council has been looking for…I wasn’t sure what to do.” She lowered her gaze, repentant.

  I gingerly opened it. I faintly remembered Mother’s notebooks containing drawings of unusual plants, but I was unprepared for the sketches that bombarded me. In my time as a Weaver, I’d become quite familiar with the flowers grown in the Cultivating Fields, but the plants filling these pages were entirely foreign to the Dream World. I searched for anything I recognized, but all were unfamiliar.

  “Do you recognize any of these, Iris?” I tilted the notebook towards her. Her eyes widened as she took it and studied each page, her brows furrowed. “These are unlike any plants I’ve ever seen. What could they possibly be used for?”

  “Look at this.” Angel pointed over Iris’s shoulder at the paragraph beneath the heading “To Enhance Dreams” and read aloud: “These ar
e reproductions of mystical plants found in Dreamer legends, said to have been discovered at the beginning of time. Each possesses a mysterious power, which must be woven into dreams in order to produce its magical effect.” She raised confused eyes to mine. “These are no ordinary plants.”

  I took the notebook back and flipped through it, pausing to read Mother’s hasty notes. There was a marigold that transformed a dream’s details into their sinister equivalents, thus changing dreams into nightmares; a zinnia that pulled past dreams still lingering in the Mortal’s memory and combined them with the current dream being woven; a dahlia that allowed dreams to linger hours after the Mortal had awoken; and…a reality rose, identical to the flower I’d found in the burnt remains of Mother’s garden, now burrowed inside my weaving bag.

  I tipped the notebook sideways to read its description: The reality rose erases the dreamlike quality of a dream’s details, causing the Mortal to forget they’re dreaming.

  I traced Mother’s sketch of the rose. To cause a Mortal to forget they were dreaming would create a realistic dream far more effectively than even the best flowers from the Cultivating Fields, guaranteeing a win against even the most formidable opponent.

  A chill rippled up my spine. These were definitely no ordinary flowers. I glanced at my friends, whose identical grave expressions mirrored the worry filling my heart.

  Angel spoke first. “These seem like something that would be found in—”

  Iris cut her off with a warning look and Angel snapped her mouth shut. I glanced between them. “What were you going to say?”

  “It was just a random thought,” Angel said hastily, casting Iris a sideways glance. “But there are rumors that the Ebony Market sells illegal flowers.”

  “Ebony Market?” My heart pounded in my ears. “You never told me that’s what it was called.”

  Mother’s name was Ebony. I scrambled to piece this information together, and a possibility for why Mother had been suspended slowly formed: she’d been creating and undoubtedly using illegal flowers in her Weavings, evidence of which I’d just shown my friends.

  The realization hit me like a crashing meteor, confirming what my subconscious seemed to have already figured out, but which I’d refused to acknowledge. While I’d known she’d been suspended, this entire time I’d hoped it’d been a misunderstanding, a consequence for her simply possessing unique powers. So to learn that she was involved with something so dark and forbidden…

  Iris leaned closer, eyes concerned. “Are you alright, Eden?”

  I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t even breathe. I stood there motionless, my mind racing. As much as I yearned to deny it, I knew it was true.

  Mother’s notebook full of unusual plants no one seemed to have seen before, the same plants we’d spent hours tending in her garden; vague memories of strangers secretly visiting her there over the years, making exchanges in hushed whispers…it all seemed so obvious now: Mother was in charge of the Ebony Market. I tried to work up some shock at this realization, but I only felt numb.

  My heart pounded in trepidation. If Angel and Iris figured out what these plants were and who they belonged to…would they connect me to the missing Weaver? Their knowledge would only jeopardize my already precarious position, especially if it got back to the Council, causing me to lose my final chance to prove myself.

  I wanted to dismiss my suspicions, but I couldn’t escape the truth, one that made me sick to my stomach. It wasn’t long before desperation caused doubts to rush uninvited into my mind. Surely it was only a coincidence. Mother could never be involved in anything sinister. She was a Dreamer, just like me, and Dreamers wouldn’t be involved in something illegal that could easily tip the fragile balance.

  My doubts lingered over the next several days, impossible to quench. I spent every free moment combing the Cultivating Fields in an attempt to find matches of Mother’s strange plants, anything to prove her innocence, but I found nothing.

  “Do you think the reason we can’t find them is because they’re from the illegal market?” Stardust asked timidly on my third afternoon of searching, finally voicing my silent fears out loud.

  I nearly snapped the stem of the azalea I was currently examining. “Why would Mother have flowers from the illegal market in her notebook?” I asked shakily.

  Stardust was quiet for a moment, bristling, as if trying very hard to remain silent.

  “Do you suspect her of something?” I asked slowly. Stardust learning the truth would only make it more difficult to hide.

  “I only have suspicions,” she said in a rush. “The only plants I’ve found that even resemble these were the ones from your Mother’s garden.” She morphed into her notebook and flipped to the pages of plants she’d carefully drawn the day she spied on me. Several were an exact match. She avoided my eyes. “It’s just a thought, but I’m beginning to wonder if the reason your mother was suspended is because she’s actually part of the Ebony—”

  “You’re wrong!” I yelled and she immediately snapped her mouth shut. But my anger couldn’t erase the sickening feeling that had been sinking deeper in the pit of my stomach.

  Would there be any way to prove these plants weren’t from the illegal market?

  I wished I could just ask Darius if he knew anything about them, but despite the sweet reception he’d given me after my Council hearing, we seemed to have come to an unspoken agreement to maintain distance while I was on probation, as anything else would only be more suspicious to the Council. With Stardust carefully monitoring our Weavings, I’d followed his lead and put necessary distance between us, despite my heart longing for more.

  After hours scouring the Dream Library’s cultivation section yielded no results, only one conclusion remained: these weren’t dream plants. If instead they were part of the Nightmare Realm, there was only one Cultivator I could ask.

  The ominous gated entrance towered over the crumbling path lined with trees whose gnarled branches formed beautiful, jagged shapes. I peered tentatively through the obsidian bars for my first glimpse of the Nightmare Realm, but all I could see was an identical twisting path on the other side that was swallowed up by the swirls of thick fog.

  A figure slowly emerged from the mist. Trinity. Apprehension tightened my chest as she approached. Her smile in greeting did little to reassure me as she pushed open the gate and slipped across the border.

  “Good evening, Dreamer Eden. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  The nerves knotting my stomach seemed to have sealed my throat. I shouldn’t be speaking to Trinity, especially when she was one of the possible suspects for framing me. But there was no one else I could turn to for the answers I so desperately sought. As the only other Cultivator I knew other than Iris, she was perhaps the only one who could help me decipher the meaning of the plants filling Mother’s strange notebook.

  Trinity tilted her head, surveying me. “I was quite surprised to receive your summons asking to meet, especially in a place like this. Have you managed to heed my suggestion to experiment with your dream exploring abilities?” A dark look flashed in Trinity’s amber eyes when I shook my head before her expression hastily cleared. “How disappointing. What other reason could you possibly have to meet?”

  I hesitated, still unsure whether or not I could trust her, then shakily pulled out Mother’s notebook. Trinity’s eyes widened.

  “That’s Ebony’s.” She took the notebook with a hungry eagerness and rapidly flipped through it. “I recognize all of these. They’re Ebony’s creations—some based on ideas inspired by legends, but most from her own imagination.”

  “What are they?” I asked.

  Trinity cocked a single eyebrow. “She never told you? Like you, Ebony has an unusual gift not found in other magical beings. Hers is the ability to create new magic in unique forms.”

  My sense of foreboding increased, causing my heart to pound wildly. “New magic?”

  An eager glint filled her eyes as Trinity nodded. “Creating new
magic was her passion. She was always doodling ideas and keeping track of her experiments in one notebook or another. She was still experimenting when the Council—” She cleared her throat. “I mean, before she went to Earth. As a Cultivator, her talent mostly lay in creating new plants, but she managed to create other things, even going so far as to create new life. Do you have any more of her notebooks?”

  “The rest have been burned.” My voice shook. “All of them.”

  Trinity’s eyes flashed. “How unfortunate. With everything those notebooks contained…such a waste.”

  While I regretted the loss of Mother’s notebooks, they were of little consequence compared to the information Trinity had revealed. A more pressing question burned on my tongue, one I wanted to ask almost as desperately as I didn’t want to know the answer.

  “How do you know so much about Mother’s powers? Were you friends with her?”

  Trinity smiled. “I’m friends with many Cultivators, both Dreamers and Nightmares. I believe it’s important to study both areas of magic in order to fully enhance one’s abilities. It may do you some good to look more into nightmare weaving.”

  My skin prickled at her knowing look and my heart flared. Could she know about the nightmare flower I’d accidentally created? “I could never—”

  She laughed lightly. “I was only teasing.”

  But I wasn’t convinced she really had been.

  Trinity reverently stroked the page of a carnation that could change the sensations of each detail within a dream. “I’d forgotten how incredible these plants are. With the ability to create new magic…the opportunities are limitless.”

  “So they aren’t illegal?” I asked. “Because I was afraid—Mother wouldn’t—” I couldn’t finish.

  Trinity laughed. “Being created by unusual magic only makes these plants rare, special; not bad, only secret. Because these plants are so remarkable, they would undoubtedly give a Weaver a distinct advantage. The Council fears the unknown. You yourself understand this, which is why you’ve kept your own powers a secret, even from your friends.”