Dreamweaver, page 25
“Thank you,” Aro said. He went first through the gap, finding it was a tight squeeze for him.
O shook his head as the rest of us filed in after him. “Hope you find whatever you’re after.” When Venny, the last in line, passed by him, O set the grate back into place. Lifting his hat, he tipped it towards us before he turned and left.
Good riddance. Glad to be rid of O, I fell into step near the end of our group, watching our shadows bounce around the drain tunnel as the others turned on their solarlights. Water sloshed around our ankles, rippling and cold.
Cay fell back, matching my pace, hands in his jacket pockets. “What were you thinking, provoking that douche like that? Why did you give him so little essence?”
“Why give him more than I had to?”
“Typically, when you’re needing something from someone, you don’t shortchange them on the exchange.”
“Guess I’m atypical, then.”
“Know what they were doing?” He pointed his chin towards my sister, who was busily chatting with Norie, hands gesturing, throwing her solarlight everywhere. “They were talking to some people back in the club that mentioned something really strange. Apparently, there’s a place that’s part of folklore around here, called—”
“Carved Gulch?”
He lifted an eyebrow.
“I didn’t hear much,” I admitted. “Just that someone that someone else knew disappeared there.”
“Yeah, it’s what it’s known for. People have been disappearing around that place for decades now. Enough people that it’s been outlawed to hike there anymore.”
“Why are you bringing this up?”
“Something Wretch said has been bothering me. He called that well you entered the well of water.”
“Yes?”
Cay was silent for a long moment. When he next spoke, his words were quiet. “Doesn’t this place remind you of Flow’s trial?”
I bit down on my tongue to stop an instinctual snarky remark from emerging. “Yes.” That had been a redundant question—he was well aware of what effect darkness had on me thanks to our time in the catacombs. I studied him curiously, wondering if I was brave enough to ask him if he ever jumped when things turned pitch black. If he scratched at his scars and had to stop his heart from panicking.
No, I wasn’t quite brave enough for that.
“She’s terrified, you know.”
“Who?”
He inhaled deeply. “Nessa. She’s terrified. Of her Spinning being taken from her permanently. But most especially of dying. She has constant nightmares about it. About being buried alive, or about drowning, or about being caught in a fire.”
“Dayja told me about her nightmares too. How you’re helping her.”
“Something strange is happening,” Cay said, frowning. “With nightmares, I mean. I’ve never sensed so many as I have lately. The more nightmares there are, the more probability that they can break loose and turn feral. You’re well aware of that.”
I struggled to find the right words for my next question so I wouldn’t come off as attacking him. “Do you… Are you struggling to hold them all back? Especially since Harvesting has become weaker?”
His eyes flittered to me and away, like a bird nervous about the safety of landing on its chosen spot. “Yeah. Yeah, I am. It’s why I’m letting you know so you can be prepared in case things start to get really bad.”
“I’ll do what I can. And thanks, for helping Dayja out.”
He rubbed at the back of his neck. “No problem.”
Marveling at the fact we were managing a civil conversation, I risked popping the bubble by adding, “You should tell her how you feel.”
He stopped dead in his tracks.
I swung to face him, holding my solarlight up higher. “I don’t think she has any idea, is what I’m trying to say. You should—”
He snorted sharply, his features hardening. Closing back up. “You’re one to talk.”
“What?”
“I’m referring to you constantly mooning after Spinner Bloodthreader over there.” He flung a careless hand towards the others, growing smaller by the moment as they kept walking, oblivious to our little chat. “I think the reason you say nothing is exactly the same reason that I say nothing.”
I knew exactly what he meant. The fact that Dayja and Dane were so close, fit so well together. The way they seemed to be in their own world sometimes with their own private discussions when they thought I wasn’t watching.
But of course I was. I was always watching.
And wishing.
As Cay stood before me, the tone of his skin flickered, switching to a passionate red that languidly spread across his body as he said, “I swear on my bones if you say anything, I’ll…” His brow crumpled in bewilderment as I gaped at him, watching the strange transformation take place. “What the hell is wrong with you now?”
It all vanished up, like a mirage dispelling, leaving me blinking rapidly.
“You didn’t see that?” I demanded, my sheer confusion breaking past his invisible wall and grasping hold of his arm, holding it up. Nothing out of the ordinary there. He clenched his hand into a fist in warning, but I shook his arm in emphasis. “Just now, you didn’t see anything strange happening?”
“You,” he said flatly.
I shoved his arm away and grit my teeth. “I’m telling you: I saw something weird. Your skin changed color. I saw it before with Dayja and Norie too, only, their colors were different.”
He just stared at me.
My temper burned through me. “I’m not making this up!”
“Ok, sure, but it probably means you’re going crazy. Does being part of the Dichotomy turn you crazy? Are you going to become Wretch 2.0?”
My fist was swinging before he had even finished talking, but he stepped sideways, dodging it, and gave my elbow a rough push.
“He’s a psychopath that wants to destroy everything and everyone,” I seethed. “Don’t compare me to him.”
Cay held up his hands in surrender and I stiffened in shock. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Now I was the one giving him a funny look and he became exasperated. “You heard me right. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“Hey!”
A shout from Kenji made us both glance down the drain tunnel, shielding our eyes from the beam of his solarlight.
“Hurry it up, slowpokes!”
“Save your stressing,” I said as Cay opened his mouth. “I won’t say anything.” He relaxed as we both began to trudge through water to the others.
The turnoff that O had told us about wasn’t much further ahead. The ground sloped upward as the roughly carved hole led us on, angling a view of the sky as we neared its end. Aro stepped out first, vanishing from sight for a little bit before leaning back in to give the all-clear.
We were on the very south edge of Maffest, surrounded by derelict buildings that had been quartered off by caution tape and eviction notices. There were no solarstreetlamps here, no glows from within windows from holoscreens playing, no steamcars or pedestrians. Like a haunted ghost town, everything was silent and still.
Aro clicked his fingers. "Well, let’s get to it. We’ll need to go past this hologram for the Run to show itself.”
“Hologram?” Norie echoed.
Aro loped forward, demonstrating what he meant by simply vanishing in thin air. One moment there, and the with the next step, gone.
Moving past the boundary of the hologram was like someone flipping a switch. Noise exploded from nowhere, showing the area wasn’t abandoned at all. And people appeared—so many people. Milling around, bargaining in heated tones, hawking their wares to passersby, or gossiping animatedly. Beads exchanged hands freely.
Aro rolled his shoulders. “We’ll try to be quick. All of you lay low and wait near here. Try not to draw attention to yourselves. Ready, En?”
Aro’s words pulled me from watching the commotion and I nodded, trying not to show how nervous I was. I didn’t dare look to the others for fear they’d see it written all over my face. Dayja knew me too well—she would definitely see it. Instead, I became Aro’s shadow, walking at his heels as he entered the ruckus, letting it swallow us whole.
It took us some time to locate what we needed. Unregistered solarguns were several streets down, tucked away within the shadowy depths of the Run.
We passed through an opening that may have once upon a time served as the front door to a steamcar repair shop. Now, the place was scraped nearly empty, poorly lit and smothered with dust. The cracked service counter was laid out with numerous solarguns, ranging from pistols to rifles. The man who stood behind the counter was busy watching a sports program on his holoscreen, a beer can clutched in one fist.
He noticed Aro and swung his feet down from the counter, the holoscreen zipping closed. "Ah, customers. Welcome, welcome. How can I serve you? All of my imports are quality proven and the best bargain you'll find in the Run."
"Hmm," Aro supplied, noncommittally. He picked up a slim solargun, flipping open its casing to show its charging panels lined with rust.
The man stammered, "That was given to me from another supplier. You can see why he was taken out of business. Here, maybe this one would interest you?"
I left them to it, meandering through the shop, kicking away a bucket filled with molded rags as I inspected the littering of neglected tools in the repair room beyond a set of broken windows.
"—you will notice its seamless, compact design and comfortable grip. Suitable for a smaller hand," the man was saying. "For someone of your stature, might I suggest—"
"I'll take these four," Aro cut in. "They are the only ones in usable condition."
"An excellent selection, sir. I am sure you are aware that for payment—"
"Do you have beads ready?"
"Why, yes. I must regretfully inform you that such products will cost six beads in total."
"Fine," I said, turning to face him again. "Set them out."
"But where will you get essence?"
"Your partner is asleep upstairs in your bedroom, currently dreaming about a buffet. That will work."
The man's mouth formed a circle of shock as I held out a hand, calling the dream down to me, funneling it towards him. He watched, a bit dumbfounded, as I split it up and sped it in little streams into his beads. They rattled when I finished, rolling into each other, and the man held a hand over them, feeling their heat.
Aro was pocketing the solarguns, priming them to charge. Given that we were in the thick of the night, they were going to take a few hours at least. "With that, we will bid you a good night."
I hurried out of the shop without looking back.
"You feel it too, then?" Aro asked me quietly. He seemed completely calm, but I knew he was scanning around us carefully.
I nodded, keeping silent. Something had the back of my neck tightening, goosebumps rising on my skin. The tension had seeped through me from the moment we had entered the man's store, strengthening every minute until I had to keep my hands from twitching. I couldn't see anything past the thick shadows beyond my solarlight, but I knew better than to brush aside my instincts. Aro had taught me better than that.
There—movement in the blackness.
"En," Aro whispered. "Go back to the shop. Hide."
"I'm not leaving you."
"I can't have my focus divided."
“Don’t worry about me.”
“En—”
“I knew you were holding back on me.” O’s voice preceded him as he woke a solarlight, revealing himself standing between neighboring buildings. “Six beads for him, yet two for me?” He clicked his tongue. “That hurts my feelings.”
Fifteen other lights turned on as he tipped his hat back, giving me a lazy smile.
“I was somewhat curious, wondering what a former bounty hunter would want within the Run. Had to be something important enough to turn his back on all the values that made him hunt the very people who come here. Then it clicked when you showed your charming hand, Dreamweaver. You should hear the channel talk about you. Like you’re actually some kind of threat.”
Fifteen figures fanned out around Aro and I, enclosing us in a circle. My fingertips tingled as my pulse flew at the sight of their solarguns leveled our way.
“Here’s what I would like to have happen,” O said. “You come with me, Dreamweaver. You do so docilely, with no fuss, and we won’t even hurt your old man here too badly. He will have a hell of a headache when he wakes up, but nothing beyond that. Can’t risk the chance of you catching up to us, you understand.”
The edges of my eyesight darkened, my focus narrowing in on the guns that were pointed straight at Aro.
The growl he gave rumbled in his chest. “Don’t, En. We go together,” he said louder, directed at O.
“That’s not the outcome I’m interested in.”
“Stay,” I said under my breath. “Stay and go back to the others when you can. You know how to track people. You’ll find me.”
Aro’s expression was one of raw pain. “Please, he will never forgive—”
“Alright!” I raised my voice, holding my hands up as I walked forward. “Alright, I’ll go with you. Don’t hurt him. I won’t comply if you do.”
“You’re making a mistake,” Aro cautioned.
“I think not,” said O breezily. He waggled his fingers at me, like ordering a dog to obey and heel. “Time’s ticking, Dreamweaver. As for you, brute, no sudden movements now.”
I made myself look over my shoulder, trying to convey that I would be fine and give an apology at the same time. Aro had tears in his eyes, but he knelt as he was commanded to. A sharp thud with the pistol’s hilt at the base of his skull, and his eyes rolled back. He fell, unnervingly limp, and I fought back the bile that burned the back of my mouth.
O curled his hand around the back of my neck. “He will be left where he is if you don’t struggle. Walk with me.”
With a final glance to Aro’s prone body, I went. I was relying on the others losing patience with waiting, finding him, and Dane healing him.
Then coming after me.
They blindfolded me, though O let my hands stay unbound so long as I remained compliant. Considering they had solarguns and I was unarmed, I wasn’t exactly itching to start fighting back. I had expected to be brought to some sort of vehicle and made to lie in the trunk, but O forced me to walk instead, laughing every so often when I inevitably tripped and ate dirt. The further we went, the more difficult the terrain became; we left the smooth walkway, passed the paved roads, and crunched over loose pebbles. The ground began to incline sharply, forcing me to hold my arms out for balance. I slowed my pace as much as I dared.
Morning arrived in a golden hush mingled with a cold wafting breeze that heralded rain. With the sunlight returned, I could make out the faintest of shapes beyond my blindfold. It hardly helped; my legs ached, and I had amassed enough bruises and scrapes from falling that it was becoming distracting.
I was seconds away from punching someone for a drink of water.
“We will stop here, Dreamweaver. Please, have a seat.”
I didn’t have a choice. Someone set a vice-like hold on my shoulders and shoved me down, jarring my tailbone against something solid and unforgiving. Under my hands, I felt what I guessed to be rough slabs of stone, interlaced together to create a crude sort of wall. My blindfold was unknotted, ripped away forcibly, and I slapped a hand to my eyes as the brilliance of the sunlight stung me. As I adjusted, I searched around, finding that O had brought me to a lookout point that showed the expanse of a ravine. He had entirely ignored the blockades marking Carved Gulch as off limits, per order of the city. His gang had lessened in number, and I presumed that he had posted some along our trail to keep an eye out for trouble.
O was standing with his thumbs looped into his belt, taking in the spectacular view. “For such an insipid thing, despite your ugly scarring, you sure have a large reward on your head. You must have made the Chancellor incredibly angry. Go on ahead,” he directed to one of his men.
I stiffened as his lackey approached me, reaching for my boots. He slowly unzipped them, sliding first one, then the other from my legs. My brace came into view, its new metal clasps shining.
“Once your friends come running to save you,” O was saying, “we’ll take them in and exchange them for their price. You, however, the Chancellor had very specific instructions for.” He swung around to face me. “She wants you dead. Said to toss you over into this gorge, where you’ll be just another story to fuel the folktale that’s branded this place. Just one more person that disappeared.”
My nails bit into my palm as I formed fists, internally calculating. With only six men remaining, plus O, would I stand a chance if I fought back? How fast could I steal a gun away and shoot? Better to fight with these terribly odds than simply accept my fate.
My brace was unbuckled, removed from my leg, and tossed to O, who caught it.
He scrunched his nose, repulsed. “What’s this supposed to be? I had no idea you were defective.” He cast it aside, where it clattered against the ground, and wiped his hand on his jacket. “Bring her over.”
Lifting my heel, I jammed it into the chest of the man crouching before me.
He tipped off balance, arms flinging wide to catch himself, to stop me, but I had already snatched his solargun from its holster. I shot him point blank in the gut, swiveling towards the flurry of motion in the corner of my eye, firing another bolt. It struck the man’s shoulder, sending him toppling.
O leveled his own gun my way—and then he paused, looking momentarily, utterly confused.
A bolt rang out from lower down the incline, striking the ground before O, sending a blast of crushed pebbles and dirt clumps. He staggered back, his solargun falling from his hands, bouncing away over the edge of the ravine. Around him, his lackeys dashed to confront the arrival of Venny, who fired again, taking down another man. My knees went weak as I saw that, behind him, the others were charging up the hill.
