Disciple: DreamWalkers, Book 2 (24 page)

Now, after two months of attempting to harness her powers with Zeke’s help, Maggie was being whisked off to the Orbis anyway.

Having the curator across a table from her, eating biscuits, made the reality of Maggie’s entire situation both less intimidating and more real. The old man wasn’t some brooding, frightening mystery figure who terrified everyone into silence like the curator he’d referred to as Moody. His explanation for why reassigned neonati didn’t return to the field was reasonable, though in the computer age, she would have thought some might have remained in touch with their original mentors and coworkers.

Then again, perhaps other reassignments leaned toward unpleasant, initiated by personality clashes and hostilities, instead of her situation, allegedly conduit blindness.

Though if the others realized—as Lill seemed to—that she and Zeke had slept together, that would create hostilities of its own.

“The Orbis has considerable resources we could extend to locate your sister. More than an area castrum, for certain. Once we find her, you can extend my offer to young Allyson. I have room on my staff for any number of Mackeys.”

The curator seemed to take it for granted Maggie would remain on his staff after training. No matter how fascinating the Orbis was, no matter what she learned, could she give up Zeke to keep it?

“We don’t know if she’s an alucinator,” she demurred.

“We don’t know she’s not.”

“It’s my understanding it’s rare for the ability to run in a family.”

“That’s a topic of some debate.” He finished the last biscuit and folded his paper napkin neatly instead of wadding it up. “We don’t have reliable data from many historical periods. Frankly, when dreamers used to awaken, our historians think the wraiths rampaged through their families before any alucinators could arrive on the scene. We have no way of knowing whether the strain would have run in those families or not.”

“Logical,” Maggie said, “but gruesome.”

The curator spoke of the horrific possibility as if it were academic, which it was, being so far in the past—and incidental. She supposed heading up the entire Somnium did tend to lend one a different perspective on the trials and tribulations of the common dreamer.

“Of course,” he continued, “since the invention of modern transportation, we’ve put a cap on that degree of infestation.”

Finally finished with his meal, he set his plate away and dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. “I don’t suppose you could direct me to an empty bunk?” He smiled wryly. “I’m not as young as I used to be, and jet lag is weighing upon me.”

“Yes, of course.” Maggie stood, politely helped the curator to his walker, and assisted him in finding a place to rest. He released her after a final warning not to enter the dreamsphere without him and that they would discuss her regular sleeping arrangements after his nap.

“No more code ones,” he said jovially. “Tomorrow or the next day, we’ll be out of everyone’s hair and they can return to business as usual.”

Maggie smiled but didn’t concur. If she had to go with the curator—and it was looking like she would—she’d never return to business as usual again.

Chapter Fifteen

Maggie didn’t rest well, tossing and turning and afraid she’d accidentally pop into the dreamsphere after an all-too-brief explanation from Lill about sleep barricades. The curator’s orders that she not enter the sphere without him superseded Adi’s orders that she visit the sphere nightly.

Every time Maggie reached out a toe or a hand across the mattress, expecting to brush against Zeke’s reassuring warmth, all she got was a cold cinderblock wall. Zeke was sleeping with Karen—in the bed he and Maggie had used the first night, and made love in the next morning.

She wondered, rather spitefully, if the sheets had been changed.

Though who would do it? She’d seen soldiers, alucinators and a doctor, but no one who looked like housekeeping. At the base, they looked after themselves for the most part, and a specialized cleaning service run by members of the fundi, alucinators who didn’t want to be involved in the Somnium directly, scrubbed the place down about once a month.

After they parted ways that morning, they hadn’t spoken. She’d seen Zeke—the outbunker was too small not to have seen him—but getting him alone had proved impossible. Karen clung to him like plastic wrap. He seemed tired and dazed, as gruff as usual but failing to hear questions directed at him and disinclined to participate in conversations. He poked at his smartphone and pretty much ignored everyone, like a sullen teenage boy.

Maggie hoped he and his student had slept like shit on the dirty sheets.

She hoped he’d missed her, because she missed him more than she ought to. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been in love before. She’d had a few decent relationships in her past and a few lousy ones, like anyone. She’d had decent sex and lousy sex.

But Zeke wasn’t the only one reverting to adolescence. What she had—what she wanted—with Zeke felt like a relapse to her angsty teen years, when being separated from her long-distance boyfriend was a searing pain in the heart combined with the end of the world. Watching him with Karen turned her stomach.

It was slightly gratifying that he was as gruff with Karen as he was with everyone else. Maggie assumed things would improve between her and Zeke after he’d promised to quit being such an asshole. Or was he trying to hide their indiscretion by being grumpier than usual and pretending Maggie didn’t exist?

“Zeke. Zeke. Earth to Zeke.” Lill, in the mostly empty common room, threw an empty water bottle at Zeke’s head. It bounced off and hit the painted gray floor with a hollow clatter.

Zeke cast Lill a disgruntled glance. “What the hell was that for?”

Normally Zeke’s reflexes would have enabled him to catch something thrown at the back of his head, or so it seemed. Maggie wouldn’t know anyone who’d tested that theory with wadded up socks or maybe bo sticks.

“Don’t be rude. She wishes to speak with you,” Karen told him, smiling at Lill.

Maggie avoided looking at Karen, afraid they’d make eye contact. She didn’t know if Karen had been watching her, but she’d felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle numerous times. It could have been a reaction to the chilly temperature in the outbunker.

She looked at the woman now. Then looked again. Unless she was mistaken, Karen was thicker than yesterday. Her pale hair had some curl to it, and her cheeks some color. Her eyes were brighter. She no longer looked like a famine victim.

“Don’t mind him,” Karen continued. “We were up half the night talking. Seems like it, anyway. Right, Zeke?” She leaned against him, flipping her hair behind her shoulder.

“Yeah, whatever.” Zeke wasn’t particularly kind or nice to Karen, but he didn’t shove her away. Adi would have flayed him alive if he’d done that. “What do you want, Lill?”

“I asked if Adi’s told you when I can go home?”

The vigil had been closeted with the curator most of the day. Maggie wondered if Adi was monopolizing the curator in a feeble attempt to keep him from finding out about the corpses or her investigation into dream healing.

“Don’t ask me. Adi’s your friend,” Zeke said. “I don’t even know why she called you in. Our area’s short on sentries since I got dragged here.”

“What do you mean? You were there when Adi offered to summon Lill.” Maggie shouldn’t have to remind him—but she did. Lill’s eyes narrowed. “She was intended to orate with me so I wouldn’t be completely adrift my first night in phase two.”

“I agreed with that?” Zeke’s brow furrowed. “Well, I was an idiot. It clearly didn’t help. Lill should be in Virginia.”

“You’re not an idiot.” Karen stroked his arm. Maggie couldn’t help but notice Zeke squeezed his eyes shut, as if he didn’t want to see his companion. “You always do what’s best for your students. You brought the girl here at Adi’s request and then saved me from the Master. At last. Now she’s going with the curator and I’m staying with you.”

Maggie regarded Karen and Zeke and tried not to scowl. Either Karen liked to state the obvious or liked to hear herself talk. Why was she telling Zeke things they all already knew?

Lill leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “I’m going to barge in on Adi and the curator if they don’t come up for air soon. I can’t wait around any longer.”

Karen straightened—for the first time in fifteen minutes, not that Maggie was counting—and disconnected herself from Zeke. “You can’t leave.”

Lill gave her an incredulous look. “Why not? I don’t have a history of murderous manifestations. I can go wherever my job takes me.”

Karen’s thin face half-turned to Maggie. “It’s sad, but that’s why the girl has been reassigned to a curator.”

Lill snorted. “I’m not talking about Maggie. I’m not convinced she’s responsible for the chaos over the past couple days.”

It was the first Maggie had heard about it. Zeke was the only one who hadn’t immediately blamed her for the manifestations, especially after she’d explained things to him yesterday morning. Since then he seemed to have forgotten. Now Lill claimed she wasn’t sure Maggie was responsible when she’d acted sure yesterday.

Perhaps Lill had needed more time to make up her mind—and Zeke had needed more time to change his.

“You’re right. I’m not responsible for the code ones,” she said to Lill. She’d focused her efforts on getting Zeke alone. Perhaps it was Lill she ought to speak with in private. Did Lill notice how oddly Zeke was behaving? She’d known Zeke longer than Maggie had. Perhaps she could shed some light on the subject.

Was this how he’d always been when Karen had been his disciple? Hostile, forgetful and sullen?

“The curator agrees with Adi, Zeke and me,” Karen said. “The neonati is responsible.”

Zeke’s gaze met Maggie’s for one long, hopeless, bleak moment—and didn’t defend her. “I don’t blame Maggie for what happened.”

“Of course you don’t,” Karen said. “The girl has a weakness called conduit blindness and needs to go to the Orbis for proper training, where they can treat the handicapped.”

“We already know that, Karen. Don’t be a broken record. And you can say Maggie’s name, you know. It won’t poison you.” Lill shot to her feet and paced across the room, switching the channel on the fuzzy TV set. “This is a waste of my time.”

“Why are you in such a hurry to leave?” Karen asked. “We need as many L5s as we can get for protection from the Master. Surely you realize that.”

Lill’s face twisted and she sat back down. “I’m not saying I believe your shit about the Master, but I have to arrange Constance’s funeral.”

“Who’s Constance?” Zeke asked.

Lill’s mouth dropped open—a very uncommon expression on her face. “The hell?”

“He’s joking,” Karen said hastily. “He’s never been much of a comedian, has he?”

“No.” Lill wiped a hand over her mouth and jaw. “He’s never been this dense either.”

“Exhaustion.” Karen patted him. “He works so hard.”

“I can answer for myself.” He jerked away from Karen and stalked to the TV set, changing the channel back. “I was watching that show.”

Lillian threw up her hands. “You were watching your phone.”

“I multitask. You should try it. Maybe you wouldn’t feel like you’re wasting your time.” Insolently, he returned to a seat and stuck his nose in his phone again. His seat, this time, wasn’t beside Karen, whose expression turned sour. “God, my head hurts today.”

Lill raised an eyebrow. “Headache, huh? Got any blurry vision?”

Zeke shrugged. “That tends to happen when I read on my phone too much.”

Maggie considered changing the channel on the TV to make Zeke acknowledge her. Could she piss him off enough that he’d chase her if she stormed out of the room?

Which reminded her of the way he’d chased her yesterday, and what they’d done in the bathroom right before the matriculation session with Karen.

Right before she’d killed more wraiths in the dreamsphere and dragged their corpses into the terra firma.

Maggie was getting nowhere. Zeke had cut her off. She couldn’t talk to Adi or the curator. As a two-month trainee, she didn’t possess half the information she might need. “Lill, do you want get some lunch?”

“Sure.” Lill stretched. “If I’m going to piss Adi off by interrupting her powwow, I need to do it on a full stomach.”

Karen braced a hand on the arm of the couch and rose shakily to her feet. “That sounds lovely.” She shuffled forward, stumbled, and connected with Lill, who’d reached the door.

Zeke jumped up to help, but not before Lill shoved Karen away, blinking rapidly.

“It’s called walking, Karen. You had no trouble doing it earlier today.”

“Excuse me.” Karen smiled. “My foot went to sleep.” She accepted Zeke’s arm. “What are we having for lunch?”

Lill rubbed her hand slowly along her opposite arm and then inspected her palm. She made a fist. “I don’t care what you’re having, but Maggie and I are going out to eat.”

“You can’t leave,” Karen repeated.

Lill laughed. “Watch us.”

Maggie was only too happy to comply. With one last glance at Zeke, who’d returned to staring at the TV, she scuttled out in Lill’s wake.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled like mad.

As soon as she and Lill escaped the outbunker with their sandwiches and sodas, Maggie spoke up. “He’s not himself, is he?”

“Shh. Not yet.”

Lill glanced at the door that had thunked shut behind them. The outbunker lurked almost entirely underground, except for the concrete structure that marked the primary entrance. Several SUVs and a Hummer parked alongside the dirt road. The temperature wasn’t hot, though Maggie could tell, by the glare of the sun in the cloudless blue sky, that mid-summer here would be merciless. The geography of the desolate terrain included sage, dirt, scrub and wizened trees. Mountains with traceries of snowcaps were a near-mirage in the distance.

“I’ve never been here before. Which way do you think we should walk?” The plastic sack in Lill’s hand crinkled in the breeze.

Maggie carried the sodas. She checked her watch and then the sun. “West. I heard someone say there’s a prairie dog town.”

Lill strode unerringly in the correct direction, as if she possessed an internal compass. The dirt road snaked past the outbuilding toward the west as well, so they didn’t have to navigate through scrub and rocks. It split about a hundred yards from the bunker and they remained on the westerly course.

Once they’d put some distance between them and the outbunker—not that Maggie was aware of any hidden speakers outside it—Lill continued the conversation Maggie had begun.

“No, Zeke’s not himself.” Her strides were longer than Maggie’s and quick. Maggie had to book it to stay abreast of her tall friend. A decent cloud of dust ruffled behind them.

“Do you think he’s exhausted?” Maggie asked. “Or was he this distracted when he teaching Karen the first time?”

To her surprise, Lill came to an abrupt halt. “I think he’s been confounded.”

Maggie skidded to a stop. A pebble had worked itself into her shoe and she winced. “Besides the curator, aren’t you the only confounder in the outbuilding?”

“Adi’s a confounder as well. Most vigils have the full slate of abilities.”

Maggie had studied the basics of alucinator skills in class. Confounding required dreamspace contact or, in the terra firma, skin to skin contact. A confounder had the ability to flicker into dreamspace to conduct the necessary memory erasure. Field teams employed the skill frequently, when civilians experienced brief, or not so brief, encounters with manifested creatures and alucinators decked out in combat gear. It was rarely used for other purposes.

“So you think Adi is…”

The vigil was intent on discovering all she could about Karen’s healing, and she’d attacked Zeke in the dreamsphere—not that anyone besides Maggie remembered—but did that mean Adi would use her confounding ability on them? Unfortunately, the blatant misconduct would explain the memory lapses Maggie had observed.

“I don’t want to believe Adi’s gone off the deep end. But I’d rather believe that than Karen’s cockamamie stories about a Master wraith prowling the dreamsphere.” Lill headed for a heap of rocks near the road, and when she reached them, she kicked at them with a booted foot.

Maggie followed several paces behind. Was Lill so frustrated she needed to take it out on inanimate objects? “What are you doing?”

“Scaring off snakes.” When none materialized, Lill took a seat and pulled out her sandwich. “The only other explanation I can think of is pretty damn implausible.”

Maggie joined her and handed her a soda. “At this point, is anything implausible?”

“It could be a different vigil…or the curator. Zeke could have been confounded by anyone who—well, anyone who could confound all of us to forget he’d done it.”

Adi had warned them not to trust the curators, and Lill had never done so. Her clashes with Moody were not private. “Why would a curator make Zeke forget the details of the past several days when the rest of us remember them?”

Or most of them. Did Lill realize she’d forgotten certain details as well?

“You mean like you and him hooking up?” Lill asked dryly.

Maggie’s skin heated. This wasn’t a time for lies. “Actually, yes. It was fairly memorable.”

“I imagine so.”