Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 47

Oncoming storm
Trace retired that night to his room next to the stables. It was a warm, humid evening, and a storm was coming. That was terribly inconvenient.

For one thing, it meant that the horses would be restless. If one of them panicked and became injured, he would be woken to help deal with the problem. For another thing, the thunder often woke others, interrupting the dreams he was investigating.

That could be a problem.

The mattress was also incredibly uncomfortable here. He briefly considered moving to a stack of hay in the barn, but ultimately just rolled over and decided to make the best of things.

Closing his eyes, it wasn’t long before the sound of distant thunder faded and the pleasant breeze of his own dream world could be heard.

Wasting no time, he quickly found himself racing amongst the translucent bubbles of other people’s dreams. He couldn’t find the one he was looking for. Was she up late?

He squinted, and waited in approximately the location her dream had been the night before. Interminably. Trace considered visiting other dreams, or even going to Anaisa’s to wait, but of course time was tenuous and unpredictable in dreams; he could easily stay far longer than he intended.

So, he waited in place, floating in the void between dreams and paying close attention to the tapestry of orbs as more joined the ones already here. It seemed some people took far longer than others to fall asleep.

Every now and then, a group of bubbles would quiver, and some would pop. Likely cracks of thunder in the real world were threatening to wake people.

Finally, at long last, an orb with the subtle shimmer of magic appeared a short distance away.

He stepped into it with only a slight hesitation to calm his nervousness. He needed information as soon as he could get it so that Anaisa could be let loose from the palace.

The dream was a rather ordinary one, as dreams go. The dreamer was eating a large feast, a holiday, with people Trace presumed were family or friends. A banner of red held a place of prominence in the room. The guests’ faces were unclear, blurry and indistinct, but Yemi seemed to know exactly who each of them was as she chatted and enjoyed their company.

Trace clasped his hands, hoping his plan would work. He never tried anything like this before, and he wasn’t quite sure he was capable of it.

Between his fingers appeared a piece of paper, folded like a letter. He concentrated, trying to imbue it with the dream-qualities he wanted. Hopefully, the ‘flavors’ of the object would leak out to the dreamer.

Secretive. Crucial.

He contented himself with two qualities, for any more might confuse or complicate the dream instead of serve his purpose. He wasn’t even sure that doing this would work at all.

Ghosting forward, he magnified the flavor of the letter as he dropped it in the middle of the table, then disappeared behind a pillar, watching Yemi.

It was barely a moment before she noticed the letter, and the entire dream changed its atmosphere. Where once there was content merriment, now there was deep anxiety as she observed the important letter laying in the middle of a crowded feast table where anyone might see.

She leaped forward and snatched it, but those around her did not seem to notice the strange behavior. They continued eating and chatting as though nothing had happened.

Yemi stood from the table, and the furniture disappeared around her. Suddenly, she was in a stone hallway, running in slow motion. Something behind her was rumbling, and she clasped the letter tightly.

Trace followed, slowly, moving to the side each time Yemi looked over her shoulder with fright.

Eventually, she came to a window along a spiral staircase with a single candle burning in it. It was low, perhaps underground? As he looked closer at the window he realized it was just a slight inset into the wall, and had no view of outside.

The woman stopped and began to wrestle with one of the stones on the ledge where the candle rested, wrenching and pulling to try to get it loose. She became increasingly anxious about her inability to do so, and Trace’s eyes narrowed. It looked as if–

The dream suddenly burst with a roar, and Trace covered his ears as he was launched back into the void between dreams. A clap of thunder had woken the Dreamer.

She must be a light sleeper, or he a particularly heavy one. Normally such an event would wake him as well. He must be overtired. Trace sighed. His plan had gone better than he expected… at least, he hoped so. Dreams could be symbolic, and hard to interpret. The staircase could be more of a metaphor than a literal place.

Even so, he would have to do some exploring in the palace if he could manage it. A loose stone in the sill of an alcove as a place to hide something secretive.

He lingered for a time, wondering if the magic user would fall back asleep, but it seemed he was out of luck for the night. So, instead, he headed back to what was quickly becoming his favorite place.

Anaisa’s dreams.

The deception of it all nagged at the back of his mind, but he found he couldn’t resist the call of her bubble. It would be harder to find, further from him, but by now he could recognize it apart from any of the others with ease.

He’d forgotten to ask where she would sleep; amongst the rest of the maids, or near the Princess’s chamber? The latter made the most sense if the royal was as possessive as Anaisa had made her seem.

Trace took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind, blot out the interference from the other orbs and find Anaisa’s. If he didn’t hurry, he might run out of time before the night was done.

In the distance, he spotted it, at the very edge of the range he could exercise. It was almost beyond him to reach it, but with concentration, he was able to come alongside it. The translucent orb he loved best in all the world.