Dreamer (The Dream World Chronicles Book 1)

by Camille Peters

  My mind whirled, foggy with confusion and uncertainty. What should I do now? I couldn’t return the dream; then she’d know I was the one who’d been stealing her magic. With her current thirst for revenge, I’d be back on Earth before I could even create an adequate defense.

  My panic rose. That couldn’t happen. I had to fix this. My desperate thoughts latched onto an idea: perhaps I could go somewhere secluded and release the dream in hopes that the magic would return to the one I’d stolen it from.

  But I’d no sooner considered this than I realized how foolish that would be. If a released dream really returned its magic to its original owner, surely I’d have heard about it after releasing the fire and water dreams. I was more likely to make a bigger mess unleashing an unpredictable dream; it would undoubtedly result in my getting caught, which was the last thing I wanted…yet it felt inevitable. The thought tightened the anxiety knotting my stomach.

  “Eden?” Iris finally noticed me trying to edge around the room away from the encounter and hurried over. “Have you heard? The dream dust thief has struck again. It’s positively awful.” She kept her voice low, as if afraid to trigger more tears from Angel, then staggered back as she took in my lemonade-stained appearance with wide eyes. “Goodness, what happened to you?” Her gaze lingered on my own puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. “Are you alright?”

  I flinched, as if her question was a direct accusation. Iris frowned as her gaze lowered to Alice’s dream, still bottled in the jar I clutched in my death grip. “What’s that?”

  I quickly hid it behind my back, momentarily forgetting she couldn’t see what was inside. More guilt, thick and smothering, tightened in my chest. Even after knowing my crime, I was actively trying to hide it.

  Iris wrapped her arm around me. “Are you ill?”

  The nausea that churned my stomach and the guilt that burned in my veins was the sickest I’d ever felt. Please let this be a nightmare.

  Angel and Caspian joined Iris, Angel’s anger momentarily eclipsed by her soft inquiries into whether I was well; her concern only intensified my guilt that this entire time I’d been the one who’d stolen from her.

  Her words passed through my ears without my hearing them, and the guilt swirling through me boiled anew, impossible to quench. I willed myself to confess, but I couldn’t make myself say the words. Confessing would result in losing the only friends I’d ever known and tear me away from my true home, the only place I’d ever fit in.

  It was as if my friends’ innocent questions were damning accusations. I broke away and ran to my room, slamming the door behind me.

  I spent the remainder of the long day locked away in my room, clutching a pillow to my chest as I stared numbly up at the ceiling. With each passing hour my guilt only deepened; by the time my next Weaving arrived, I feared it’d consume me.

  “I’m not going,” I said hollowly.

  “But you have to,” Stardust protested. “You can’t skip a Weaving. Mortals are supposed to dream every night, and Spiderweb isn’t allowed to weave without you.”

  “I don’t care.”

  Stardust and I had been arguing back and forth for the past hour, her concern over my behavior having rapidly escalated into annoyance at my refusal to confide in her what was wrong. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust her; it was her reaction that worried me.

  For months, she and the entire Dream World had been struggling to solve the dream dust theft mystery. Although Stardust was loyal, the thought of confessing that I was the criminal she’d been searching for all this time terrified me. I couldn’t bear to lose her trust.

  “You can’t miss the Weaving,” Stardust pressed. “Spiderweb is already suspicious of you, and you’re on probation. If you don’t show up…”

  I fiddled with the jars on my shelves and didn’t answer. Despite my terror of the Council’s reaction, it paled in comparison to Darius learning the truth. I knew it shouldn’t matter what he thought of me, but I found that it did, very much.

  I care for him.

  This secret part of my heart both confused and frightened me. My feelings for him were forbidden. We were supposed to be not only competitors but enemies. But I couldn’t deny the feelings between us. How could I face him now and risk losing him?

  “I told you I’m not going,” I said. “I can’t.”

  “But not going will tip the balance further.”

  I stiffened. The balance I’d tried to fix but had instead only made worse. But despite my mistakes, I couldn’t purposefully do anything to harm it. Attending the Weaving was the most sensible thing to do, especially with my standing with the Council hanging by a thread. Besides, there was no point in hiding; I’d have to face Darius sooner or later.

  Stardust breathed a sigh of relief as I sat up to shove a random bunch of leftover flowers into my bag, along with Mother’s notebook, the reality rose, and my nightmare flower, all of which I always kept safely on me, just in case anyone poked around my things. At the last moment I also packed Angel’s dream; it felt wrong leaving it here, so close to Angel still mourning its loss down the hall.

  I spent the remaining time prior to the Weaving perched in front of the dreams I’d collected since my stay in the Dream World, a collection that used to bring me joy but now only made me sick to think of my multitude of crimes. They lined the shelves like a string of glistening lights, color that sparkled across every surface of my room, casting waltzing patterns along the mural walls.

  I admired their contents as I arranged the dream jars around a space reserved for Angel’s complete candy land dream. But the once vibrant colors each jar contained now seemed dim, because rather than the snippets of fantastic visions I’d previously cherished, the jars in my collection now only represented stolen magic. And more than that, they represented my selfishness, for even though I’d later tried to use my collection to help the Dream World, I’d originally acquired them for me and me alone.

  Yet despite my horror over my actions, the temptation to expand my collection still seduced my thoughts. I wasn’t sure where it came from; perhaps dream capturing had become such a part of me that the thought of giving it up forever was torturous. But I had to give it up, for my need to remain in my true home eclipsed everything else. I couldn’t risk getting caught, nor could I bear to hurt Angel again.

  And yet my dark desires lingered, seductive in their taunting whispers…I only hoped I’d be able to control it.

  Chapter 33

  Although Darius was friendly during the Weaving, paranoia still clenched my heart. I imagined his suspicious gaze scrutinizing my every move, only to glance up to find he wasn’t even watching me, despite him having spent the past several Weavings staring at me. Why was he avoiding me now? Could he sense my guilt? Was he gathering additional clues for his investigation? Even if he didn’t realize I was the dream dust thief now, surely he would soon; he’d managed to figure out almost everything else. I wished more than ever I’d stayed home.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Darius said conversationally as I shakily attempted to rethread my needle for the third time. I flinched instinctively, as if his innocent comment was an indictment. “Since your secret ability is out of the bag, care to give me any tips?”

  Stardust rolled her eyes while I simply stared at him. “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve spied not only on my nightmares, but dozens of others as well. I’ve obviously never been able to get any feedback from one of my nightmare recipients before, so I was hoping…” He flashed me a rather charming grin.

  “You’re asking me for feedback?” I asked blankly, still trying to process that his uncharacteristically humble inquiry hadn't been the accusation I’d been expecting.

  He nodded. “What specific techniques would you say triggered your fear the most? Did you find spiders scurrying over a Mortal strong enough to carry an entire nightmare on its own, or could it have perhaps used a few more creepy details?”

  Bolt poked his head
out from Darius’s hair. “I keep telling him that spiders are all he needs to create a winning nightmare, but he’s convinced he needs more.”

  “It wasn’t even scary,” I lied, not willing to give my already-difficult-to-beat partner any further tips. “Out of all the nightmares I’ve seen, yours was by far the least frightening.” I didn’t mention the fact that I seldom viewed nightmares.

  He looked entirely crestfallen, but his dejection lasted only a moment before he straightened to his usual tall, confident pose. “You can’t fool me. I felt your delicious fear, and only intense emotion would have yielded me such a heaping amount of dream dust. If you don’t want to give me any advice, just say so.”

  Scowling, I yanked my flowers and dream blueprint from my bag. Darius eyed the pile of flowers warily. “Try and leave some flowers for the other Dreamers.”

  Normally, his endearing smile and gentle teasing would have caused my stomach to flip, but tonight I only felt empty. He wouldn’t be so friendly if he knew the truth—that any trust he placed in me was trust I had never deserved.

  He frowned. “No smile or even one of your usual scowls. Something’s wrong.” In an instant, his teasing manner softened into one of deep concern. “What is it, Eden?”

  How could he read me so well? “Nothing’s wrong.” My voice shook, betraying my lie. By his deepening frown, I knew he detected it.

  “You know you can always come to me if you need help,” he whispered. “Don’t you?”

  He was wrong; I couldn’t turn to him, not with such a black spot now staining my conscience. I’d never felt so alone.

  “Let’s just get the Weaving over with.”

  Darius blocked my hand before I could reopen my bag. “Before we begin, perhaps I can cheer you up with some good news.”

  Stardust snorted. “Since when do you ever have good news?”

  “When have I ever not?” He winked at me, clearly trying to get me to smile, but my cheeks warmed even as my heart hammered with nerves. Good news for Darius could range from him winning a prestigious weaving award to my suspension notice.

  No, Eden, I reminded myself. You can’t believe that any longer. Surely he cares for you as much as you care for him. An affection I had no doubt I’d lose should he ever learn the truth.

  His smile faltered. “Why do you look so wary? Don’t you know what good news means?”

  “That depends on who it’s good news for.”

  “For both of us. I’m happy to report the Council is pleased with your increased winnings. Although they hope to see your dreams yield more dream dust, their suspicions are subsiding since they’ve found a new lead for the culprit behind the crime committed at the flying colors. See, I told you it was excellent news.” And he beamed, seeming truly happy on my behalf.

  Before this morning I would have been elated at the Council’s newfound confidence in me, but now it only made my stomach churn. After all my efforts, why did the Council finally trust me when I no longer deserved it?

  At my continued melancholy Darius’s forehead furrowed. “This is what you’ve been waiting for. Aren’t you happy?”

  I forced a smile, but it was a struggle to push my lips up. Naturally, Darius wasn’t fooled.

  “What’s wrong, Eden?”

  “Nothing.”

  His frown only deepened, and his wasn’t the only one.

  “As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right,” Stardust said. “You’ve been behaving strangely ever since your encounter with Spiderweb this morning.” She glared at him as if it were his fault.

  As usual, he was unfazed by her hostility. “I know what will cheer you up. There’s something I’ve been meaning to give you.” He searched through his bag and pulled out the dream jar he’d stolen from my bedroom several months before and held it out to me. “I probably should have returned this a lot sooner.”

  “You shouldn’t have taken it in the first place,” Stardust muttered.

  “I only meant to study it,” Darius said. “But I can’t figure out what it is. The only thing I’ve been able to deduce is that it’s magic, so it feels wrong to keep power that isn’t mine; I’m no thief.”

  I hastily pulled my reaching hand away. The guilt returned, sharp and suffocating. I didn’t realize I was on the verge of tears until they burned my eyes.

  “Eden, what’s wrong?” Darius’s gaze, lined with concern, seeped into mine. I shook my head. “I can’t help you unless you tell me.” His tone was pleading.

  “Leave her alone. Can’t you see your Nightmare interference is making her feel worse?” Stardust morphed into a blanket and wrapped herself around my quivering shoulders.

  “I didn’t mean—”

  I frantically wiped the incriminating tears away. “Let’s just get this Weaving over with so I can leave.”

  After much persuasion, I assured Stardust she didn’t need to stay for the Weaving—her doing so now when she normally didn’t would only arouse Darius’s suspicion—and then I shakily removed my supplies from my bag. But before I could begin, Darius grabbed my hand, causing my breath to hook.

  “We’re not doing the Weaving, not like this.”

  For a moment I was speechless, lost in the warm sensations rippling from his touch. He wouldn’t be holding my hand if he knew the truth about me, about who I really was, what I was capable of. Even though most Nightmares would approve of how I’d tipped the balance in their favor, I knew Darius valued the balance and wanted justice.

  “I’m a Dreamer,” I said, as if to reassure myself, even though the words felt like a lie on my tongue. “I’m a Dreamer, Darius.”

  “I know you are,” he said gently. His thumb massaged the back of my hand, a touch that, while wonderful, did little to soothe my anxiety.

  I nodded, as if his confirmation was enough to make it true, but my doubt lingered, slithering through my thoughts like a poisonous serpent.

  “Let’s just finish the Weaving.” As much as I didn’t want to pull away, I jerked my hand out of his and grabbed the first flower I touched. Darius’s eyes widened as I pulled it out.

  “What’s that?”

  My heart sank. It was the reality rose. Too late I tried to hide it from view, but in a single motion Darius seized it, holding it by its stem as if it were contaminated.

  “Comets, is this—”

  “Give that back.” I tried to snatch it but he held it out of reach, darkness masking his features.

  “Don’t you know what this is?” he demanded. “This is from the Ebony Market, a place full of forbidden, untested plants grown outside the Cultivating Fields. They create unusual effects on dreams, twisting them in strange and often harmful ways that go beyond the normal properties of magic. The Council has strictly outlawed their use in all Weavings, and you have one? If anyone catches you with it…” He looked as if I’d betrayed him.

  A heavy feeling hardened in the pit of my stomach. “Don’t jump to any drastic conclusion. I didn’t get this from any illegal market, I got it from—”

  I snapped my mouth shut, the fear from my lingering guilt rendering me silent. No, I couldn’t tell him about my realizations about Mother; no one must know. If he knew of my connection to the Ebony Market…

  Darius’s expression softened as he stepped closer. “What is it, Eden? What’s wrong?” His interrogative manner had vanished, replaced with his earlier concern.

  I had to tell him. I needed to trust someone with one of my secrets. What else did I have to lose? “I found this in Mother’s garden,” I whispered, light-headed. “I’ve been hoping for another explanation, that perhaps her plants weren’t as dangerous as I’d feared, but now…”

  “You didn’t know?” Darius’s entire manner softened. “Of course you didn’t. I’m not surprised; I suspected your mother never told you about any of her plants or her unique powers to—”

  My horror deepened. “You mean you’ve known the entire time, and you didn’t bother telling me?”

  Darius looked like he
very much wanted to snatch back his last words. “I was going to when my research was more conclusive, but there are so many pieces that still don’t fit together—”

  “You’ve been researching my mother behind my back?” Emotion surged through me. I felt hot all over. “You think you can study me like I’m one of your precious legends, but you can’t.”

  “Actually, it wasn’t your mother I was researching, not initially.” Darius fiddled with the reality rose’s prickly stem, determinedly avoiding my eyes. “As I promised, I was looking into the nightmare flower you created, but I couldn’t uncover any plausible explanation for how you could have created such a thing.”

  You created it because you’re a Nightmare. I tried to shove this poisonous thought away, but it was unrelenting as it slithered deeper into my heart.

  “So I took another approach,” Darius continued. “I began searching for an explanation as to how a being like you—one who is Half-Mortal, Half-Dreamer—could possibly exist. Such an anomaly could only be achieved through unusual magic, and the only being we know of who’s capable of such a feat is the Nightmare who was banished to Earth after using her unique magic in forbidden ways. After making this connection, the pieces fell into place.”

  My breath hooked. “It was a Nightmare who was banished? But Mother isn’t—” I couldn’t finish. I barely registered the tears pouring unguarded down my cheeks until Darius stepped closer and wiped them away with his thumb.

  “You didn’t know? I’m so sorry. I’m not trying to hurt you, dear Eden.” His eyes were wide and earnest. “That flower is from the Ebony Market, and if you’re discovered with it, you’ll be in serious trouble. If you’d just let me keep it—”

  I snorted. “Give it to you? So you can have an advantage in your next Weaving without getting your own hands dirty? All you care about is increasing your powers. This is all I have left of Mother and I won’t let you take it.”