The Dream Leaper

by Cory Barclay

  “What are these ‘tall tales’ you speak of?” Steve asked.

  “I plan to tell Overseer Malachite that the woods are surrounded with Kinship rebels.”

  Steve’s mouth fell open again. “You’re gonna really have to sell that, Geddy.”

  “I plan to.”

  “We’re creating a false narrative, then?” Selestria asked, her voice tinged with anger and skepticism. “We’re going to make it seem like we’re holding the entire wedding hostage?”

  Geddon nodded.

  “How can we expect them to believe that?”

  “That’s what the Kinship families I’ve called upon will be there for,” Geddon said. “So that, on my signal, they can pop out from their hiding places and show their faces. If they’re scattered around, my hope is that Overseer Malachite will fill in the rest of the blanks. In his mind, he’ll be surrounded by our soldiers. And by the time he scouts the rest of the woods and realizes he’s been duped, we’ll have Tetsuo and be long gone.”

  “This is easily the riskiest plan you could’ve contrived, Geddy,” Steve said, sighing.

  “Do you have a better one?”

  Steve drew his sigh out longer, then shook his head.

  Geddon shrugged. “Well, that’s that. It’s better than us charging full bore into the wedding in the hopes of a strong-arm rescue.”

  “I agree with that,” Aiden said.

  “I do, too,” Selestria added.

  They all looked at Steve.

  He threw his hands in the air and turned away from them, to leave the kitchen. On his way out, he called over his shoulder, “If that’s all we got—fine. Looks like we’ll do it your way, Geddy.”

  As he left the kitchen, a knock echoed down the hallway, from the front door. He turned back to the trio.

  Aiden took the lead, since it was his house. Together, the four of them crept down the hallway toward the door.

  Another knock came, this time loud enough to startle Steve and Selestria.

  Geddon had his hand on his belt, his daggers hidden. Selestria grabbed her staff from the hallway.

  Aiden cleared his throat as he came to the door.

  “Who is it?” the leprechaun asked in his cheeriest voice.

  “Is that Aiden O’Shaunessy? It sounds like Aiden O’Shaunessy,” a muffled, familiar voice said from the other side. “Open the damn door, man, I know Geddon and Selestria are in there.”

  Aiden swung the door open.

  Barns stood in the doorway.

  “Jesus,” Steve said, staring at the big man’s bruised and battered face. “You just won’t die, will you?”

  Barns was not alone. Behind him stood Pua Kila, the wife of the Nawao leader, Ulu Koa. Behind her was a force of twenty warriors—more than they’d had at the Orange County battle.

  After Geddon laid his eyes on the group, he turned to Pua Kila and frowned. “Your husband?”

  Tears wet the small woman’s eyes. She tried to hide her red rims and when she opened her mouth, no words came out. She simply shook her head.

  “He didn’t survive the hillside,” Barns said somberly.

  “And how did you?” Geddon asked once the bear-warrior and the small woman beside him were standing in Aiden’s foyer. Even though his house was a mansion, it wasn’t big enough to accommodate twenty extra people. The Nawao stood outside, for now.

  Geddon said, “If what Steve says about the rising presence of blackguards is true, we need to hide these people before they’re seen. So, make some room, Aiden.”

  The leprechaun disappeared into another room.

  Geddon turned to Barns and Pua Kila, awaiting their answer about how they’d survived the battle.

  Pua Kila glanced up at Barns. “The dark fighters could not withstand the great power of the bear. He turned the tide of battle.”

  Barns flushed. “I only helped,” he muttered. “It was the Nawao who pushed the men back, forcing them to retreat. Unfortunately, Ulu Koa didn’t make it out of the crossfire. He led a valiant final charge—the one that eventually broke the blackguards—and fell in the mayhem.”

  Geddon reached out and took both of Pua Kila’s hands in his. “I am truly sorry. You husband’s sacrifice will not be forgotten. We will avenge his death, I promise you.”

  Steve eyed the three of them skeptically, then he met the eye of Selestria, who had a similar look on her face. I’m not the only one who sees smoke and mirrors here, he thought, trying to hide the skepticism from his face.

  “And where did these fresh new warriors come from?” Steve asked, facing the small Hawaiian woman.

  “Many were en route to our calling before the battle broke out on the hillside,” Pua Kila said. “When my husband’s death was discovered, many more came with vengeance in their hearts.”

  Selestria stepped forward. “Does that mean we’ll be changing our plan of attack?” she asked Geddon.

  Geddon faced the nymph, his eyes following her long, yellow hair. He had a proud, scheming look on his face as he shook his head.

  “No, Sela, our strategy stays the same. It’s my hope we can escape this thing without unneeded bloodshed.” He smiled. “Only now we won’t be lying when we tell Overseer Malachite we have the wedding surrounded.”

  Steve’s eyes were still narrowed as he stared at the big body of his friend.

  Geddon wants peace.

  The Nawao want revenge.

  I want Annabel.

  And we all want Tetsuo.

  Why do I have a feeling this isn’t going to go as planned?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  THE NEXT TWO DAYS PASSED without incident. Aiden’s house was crammed with all the people residing in it. The Nawao warriors—all twenty of them—slept in a large, open room that had once been Aiden’s parlor.

  Pua Kila slept in the same room as her warriors. She was the leader of the Nawao now that her husband was dead. It was important for her to show unification among them. She would not acquiesce to Geddon’s urging that she should have her own room. Not while her own soldiers slept in tight quarters.

  Steve slept in the game room. It brought back bittersweet memories of Dale singing “Pinball Wizard.” That seemed like eons ago, now.

  Everyone was up before dawn on the day of the wedding. Steve rolled off the couch and drank half a gallon of water to ease his pounding head. He hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep the night before because his nerves were going apeshit. He had to be fully alert and prepared for today’s momentous events. So many things needed to go right to lead to a successful outcome.

  If those things happened, Annabel would be in his arms by the end of the day. Tetsuo would be back in the leadership position of the Vagrant Kinship. The Lee and Reynolds houses would be at odds with each other—maybe even war. That would fracture the Brethren leadership.

  Of course, if everything didn’t go right, Steve knew he would probably be dead by the end of the day. Executed or tortured, he imagined. All his friends would be dead, too: Geddon, Selestria, and even Aiden. He was beginning to trust Aiden again after learning he hadn’t killed January Amos. He decided to let bygones be bygones and chalk up the situation at the cemetery to a terrible misunderstanding. Steve told himself that, if he survived this day, he would discuss with the leprechaun more about his shady past.

  The large group left the comfort of Aiden’s home before the sun had breached the horizon. The sky was gray and purple as they left Bay Park and headed south, toward the woods and Tiberius Reynolds’ house.

  The journey was only about ten miles. With such a large group—numbering twenty-six—they were forced to march slowly. The length of the trip extended to three hours.

  They kept off the main roads, opting for shadowy alcoves and side streets. They didn’t want to run into any patrolling blackguards.

  The Nawao traveled like ghosts in the darkness. Steve was hardly able to keep up or even see where they were most of the time. They crept around houses and alleys, stalking down roads Steve wouldn�
��t have recognized in San Diego.

  Eventually, he stopped trying. Instead, he stayed with his original group of Geddon, Selestria, Aiden, and now Barns.

  Geddon said, “The Nawao will want to get there before we do, to set up a perimeter and allow us safe passage. Let them go.”

  Steve pulled Francesca the Third’s reins, wheeling around to Barns. The big warrior rode a new young mare Aiden had provided him. Steve gave him a nod. Barns answered with a grunt.

  “How did you find us at Aiden’s house?” he asked the stoic man.

  “Same way I found you the first time at Geddon’s hideaway in the hills,” Barns said.

  “You tracked us over . . . pavement?”

  Barns touched the tip of his nose. “This is much more powerful than my eyes.”

  “Ah,” Steve said, and when it was clear Barns would say no more, he allowed Francesca to trot away.

  By the time they reached the edge of the woods, the sun was rising, creating a brilliant purplish hue. Everyone tethered his or her steed inside the woods, so they’d be hidden.

  Steve had become quite familiar with these woods over the past few weeks, so he took lead of the group. It felt good being useful and helpful. Now he needed to make sure he didn’t get the group lost.

  How embarrassing would that be, to miss the wedding completely because I had us circling aimlessly in the woods . . .

  Steve knew it would be more than embarrassing. It would be catastrophic to both his and Geddon’s causes.

  He kept to the trees and landmarks he recognized, passing beyond the clearing with the pond. When they passed the Reynolds’ house, he kept it far in the distance.

  “I think we passed the house,” Selestria said at one point, her eyes going to her left.

  Steve nodded. “We did, but we’ll circle around.” He led them to the opening of the underground escape tunnel he’d used twice before. Then he brought the five of them to the outskirts of the Reynolds’ estate.

  Before they reached their designated hiding spots, it was clear something was underway.

  Voices carried over the wind, into the trees.

  Steve couldn’t hear what the voices were saying, but he knew they had guessed the right locale for the wedding. It would be happening on the Reynolds’ property after all, not at the Lees’.

  He sneaked up to a thick bush and angled some branches out of the way so he could see. Aiden, Geddon, and Selestria came up beside him. Each of them situated themselves in their own spot so they could see through the branches.

  Glancing to his left and right, Steve thought that he could see shadows playing against the dim light of the morning. He hoped it was the Nawao, who had been ordered to circle and surround the property.

  When Steve peered through the opening slit between the branches, his breath caught in his throat.

  The wide, long driveway had been flattened and arranged into a clear space for the wedding.

  The space was about thirty by thirty yards. Numerous blackguards stood in position around the corners of the expanse, creating a wall of black cloaks and helmets. Some of the blackguards peered inward, at the circle of important people gathered. Others faced the trees, looking for any signs of movement or disruption.

  It was clear the Nawao were expert rangers. To Steve’s eyes it looked like the thick trees circling the wedding were empty of all life. But he knew better. Trained, vengeful warriors were hiding in the shadows, up the trees, and behind the branches.

  Steve’s heart hammered as he watched the scene unfold before him.

  Situated within the circle of blackguards were two groups of people. One of the groups, the one on the left side of the clearing, belonged to well-dressed nobles and men and women of prosperity. They sat with their arms crossed over their chests, waiting impatiently for the proceedings to begin.

  Steve presumed this group was the friends and acquaintances of the Lees. He didn’t recognize any of them. But at the front of the group he could make out two black umbrellas, held by tall, lanky figures. Steve recognized Constantin and Mariana Lee underneath the umbrellas. They hid from the sun, which was beginning to show itself over the canopies. Soon it would be beating down on the clearing and those umbrellas would be their only saving grace.

  On the right side of the clearing sat a group of men and women dressed in suits of gold and red, with fur-lined cloaks billowing over their seats. While the Lees’ friends all wore their own unique garb, the ten or so people seated on the right wore matching uniforms.

  Those must be the Council members, Steve thought as he stroked his chin. It seemed everyone was out today, to see this glorious occasion.

  Steve wished he could’ve seen the faces of the Councilors. He wanted to know who these people were, to recognize his enemies when he saw them in the future.

  But he was not in a position to see their faces. Though he could see, at the top-center of the group, the pleased faces of Jareth and Dosira Reynolds. Their daughter stood between them. Jareth had an arm wrapped around the younger woman’s shoulder. Emilene Reynolds wore a gown that hardly came down to her knees, showing off her shapely legs. It seemed quite inappropriate to Steve, given the circumstances.

  He wondered if Emilene’s skimpy garb was an effort to steal Annabel’s thunder. Steve knew Annabel enough to know she wouldn’t get a rise out of Emilene’s attempt at showboating.

  An empty walkway naturally separated the two groups.

  The Reynolds’ house was in front of the crowd and it was the centerpiece—the direction everyone faced.

  Shortly after Steve and his group reached their hiding spots, horses could be heard whinnying. A moment later, two large steeds appeared from around the side of the house, pulling a black carriage behind them.

  The carriage stopped in front of the two groups. Everyone in the audience stiffened.

  “That must be Overseer Malachite,” Geddon whispered in Steve’s ear.

  Steve nodded but said nothing. He wished to hear and see what happened next without any distractions. His heart thumped faster and faster, until he could hear it in his ears. His adrenaline made him antsy, but he stayed still.

  Then a flash of brilliant white light caught Steve’s eye. He flinched and ducked, hiding.

  A moment later, he peeked over his branch and noticed the light had been a reflection coming from a window of the carriage.

  Somewhere in that carriage is a reflective surface, Steve thought absentmindedly. Then the word “reflective” drew the thought back to his mind. The Parallel Reflector, he wagered. It’s in that carriage. He brought it with him, probably so it wouldn’t be stolen in his absence.

  A long moment passed in silence. The people in the wedding ceremony quieted. Everyone who hadn’t already been sitting took his or her seat.

  Then the carriage door opened and Steve found he was holding his breath.

  A white-robed man gingerly stepped from the carriage onto the grass. He took his place at the front of the procession, between the two groups at the top of the walkway. His robe was bright, clean, and fancy. He didn’t look like the pope, but Steve wondered who this priest was—and what he was doing at a wedding between Mythic families.

  Could the Lees or Reynoldses be Christian? he wondered, stupefied.

  “Is that the Overseer?” he asked quietly, turning his gaze to Geddon for clarification.

  Geddon shook his head.

  Before Steve could think anymore on what a strange sight it was to see a priest on Mythicus, murmurs broke out among the crowd.

  Tiberius Reynolds walked into view from the other side of the house. He appeared through the shadows like an apparition. Dressed handsomely, he wore a tuxedo that might have been common in any high-class wedding from Steve’s home plane. His dark hair was oiled and slicked back. He had a slight, impudent grin on his face, jutting his cleft chin in self-satisfaction.

  He stood in front of the priest, his hands clasped behind his back in deference.

  A moment later, the mu
rmurs in the crowd grew louder, and everyone turned around. Steve could finally see the faces of the Councilors. They were faces he hoped to burn into his memory forever.

  Annabel was coming down the walkway.

  She looked gorgeous, in a simple white gown that was reminiscent of the white dresses she already wore on a daily basis. Except this one was made for a special occasion and was much more lavish. The wispy train dragged and fluttered as she meandered down the aisle, drawing the eyes of all the people on both sides of the walkway.

  She wore a veil and people were leaning over to try to see her face.

  Steve realized many of the people in this crowd had probably never laid eyes on the girl. It brought a moment of heated fury, that this was so obviously a political marriage rather than one of love.

  Even her body language was depressing as she put one foot in front of the other.

  When she came to stand beside Tiberius, she didn’t even glance at him. She stared straight ahead, at the priest, who pulled a book out from under his robe.

  He recited from the book and his voice carried through the air and into the trees where Steve sat, at his wits’ end.

  He realized after a few moments that the priest wasn’t reading from a Bible. Whatever denomination he was from, it wasn’t Christianity.

  It didn’t matter. Steve could hardly hear what the priest was saying—not for lack of trying—because he was so focused on Annabel and on making his move.

  His hands trembled.

  Then he felt calm, warm hands close around his to stop his shaking. Selestria was beside him, nodding at the proceedings.

  It seemed like she was the only one who gave a single shit about Steve’s predicament. Probably because she, too, had been in love once, and maybe in the past she’d faced something like this with Tetsuo.

  It became clear to Steve that the ominous black carriage behind the priest still had people in it. Every once in a while he saw a blip pass through a window—a body moving—and the mirror kept reflecting light in his face.