Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 122

Chapter 122: War, what is it good for?
Anaisa squealed as she ducked and tried to get away. Her plans were over, and now she had to improvise. Flicking her hand behind her, she raised a wall of snow that Trace easily knocked down.

She was clearly going to lose, but she couldn’t give up so easily on a fight she’d started.

With a flick of her finger, she turned the snow Trace was running on into a sheet of glassy, slippery ice. As soon as his feet began to slide, he lifted into the air and flew after Anaisa. She should have seen that coming; hadn’t he taken her flying in his own dream just the night before?

Anaisa fell flat on her belly as Trace whizzed past her, over her head. She grinned and rolled to the side, smothering herself into the embrace of a snowbank. Holding her breath, she waited.

Sensing Trace drawing closer, she held perfectly still, hidden in the blanket of white ice crystals.

“Anaisa?” He called, amusement lacing his tone. She sensed him kneeling down, probably looking at the indentation she’d left behind when the snowbank partially collapsed around her.

She heard his hands began to dig through the snow encasing her and tensed her muscles… not that she needed to, she realized. Muscles were irrelevant when she could just make things happen. Her lips curled into a smile and silently counted to three.

Just as Trace was about to unearth her, she launched herself out of the snow and directly at him, tackling him from his kneeling position so that he landed flat on his back.

“Wha–” He protested, stunned, and she dissolved into giggles. His arms came around her waist and he held her still while she continued laughing. “You think that’s funny?” He quirked an eyebrow and began wriggling his fingers at her waist, tickling her.

“No!” She screamed, thrashing and trying to get free of his grasp. With one arm she scooped snow at Trace’s face, but he blew and wind carried it all away.

“Not fair!” Anaisa cried, finally managing to push hard enough to create some space between them.

“Fair?” He shook his head incredulously. “You attacked me with snowballs, unprovoked, and then threw me into a snow pit, and have the nerve to complain about fairness?”

“Absolutely,” She brushed at her skirt as she sat up and took on an air of authority as she glanced at him.

“And how, pray tell, do you put together such a logical and not at all biased position?” He challenged with a smile.

“Easily,” She waved a hand. “You see, this is my dream, and it is unfair that you get to use powers here, since I cannot use powers in your dream.”

“Fair would be either both of us using powers, or neither of us.” He argued, but she shook her head.

“I am not using power. I am simply doing what all dreamers can do. You are using power, because you are the only one that can do what you do. Therefore, I may act as any normal dreamer can act, and you cannot use powers against me!”

She was delighted with her conclusion, and with the incredulous expression on his face.

“I am only here at all by virtue of my powers,” He calmed into an easygoing attitude. “If I ceased using them, you would have no one at all to torture.”

“Hmm,” She tapped a finger to her chin, “I suppose I could conjure my own version of you here.”

“Would that be nearly so satisfying?” Trace was warming to his point, tilting his head in mock concern for her enjoyment.

“I suppose not,” Anaisa conceded. “Very well, you can stay… but no other powers may be used without my express permission! This is my world!”

“So you’re proposing that I sit here and take whatever you want to inflict on me without fighting back?” He made a face.

“If you have an alternate proposal, you may make it,” She inclined her chin toward him in a magnanimous display, trying not to laugh at how seriously he was taking her instructions.

“I say… the playing field is set. No more manipulations. You or I count to sixty, and then the snowball fight begins,” He raised an eyebrow. “Unless you’re afraid of being beaten in a test of pure skill by a poor farm boy. I would understand the apprehension.”

She smiled at his taunting. “And you promise not to cheat?”

“I will not cheat unless you do,” He raised his right hand in a solemn vow. “You have my word.”

“I accept your offer,” She stuck out her hand. “I will count.”

His eyes flickered skeptically between her hand and her face, while she batted her eyes at him innocently. When he stretched out his own to take hers, she grabbed it with both hands and threw all her weight against him, yanking him suddenly off balance and plummeting him into the snowbank behind her.

“ONE! TWO! THREE!” She began counting as she sprinted off behind a snow wall and desperately began piling up snowballs as quickly as she could make them.

“Cheater!” He called, sputtering.

“You just said no powers!” She called, “Don’t make me lose count! FOUR! FIVE!”

The calling was costing her breath, and she knew that he was likely faster than she was. As soon as she had a decent pile of snowballs, she peeked up over her wall and spotted Trace pushing more snow behind a short ice wall.

“–ONE HUNDRED!” She cried and hurled a snowball at his back. He turned on her with exaggerated vexation and threw a snowball high in the air. Her eyes involuntarily followed it as it arced gracefully up and towards her, widening as she decided whether to step to one side or the other to avoid it.

Then she was hit in the chest with a second, much faster and more direct, snowball with enough force to make her gasp.

“You!” She cried, picking up another snowball and throwing it.

“Me? You mean me, the only fair player in this fight? The only one following the rules of chivalry, justice, and decency of conduct??” He called as he threw another snowball at her.

She ducked and gathered more. This was war!