Dream a Little Dream (4 page)

It was getting dark outside when their conversation dwindled, and Mich began to long for a good night’s rest. Madrid did insist that he spend the night, and after stuffing him full of soup, she left him to rest on the cushions.

“I thought you would try to get me into your bed,” he remarked dazedly. She now looked young, slender and lovely.

“You may never appreciate how great a sacrifice I am making for the good of Kafka,” she murmured sadly. “I must leave you chaste, lest your Creator be repulsed. But if there is ever another time, be assured I will show you this.” She opened her gown to reveal a truly stunning bosom.

Truly stunned, Mich knew no more.

In the morning, her beauty faded, Madrid told him how to reach the world of the Creators and the nonphysical source of the River of
Thought. He had only to lie down in the shallows of the river and fall asleep.

“That seems too easy,” he said.

“Neither dreams nor reality care what is easy or hard,” she said. “Only what is appropriate. Remember that.”

She took the cross off Spirit’s neck and wrapped it in a swatch of black silk and gave it to Mich. He tied it tightly to his belt so that it wouldn’t be lost.

Then he called Heat from the stable. The unisus whinnied with excitement when he saw Spirit and galloped over. The two unisi reared in a mock fighting match. It was obvious that they were happy to see each other. Apparently Spirit had not checked the stable the day before.

Mich turned to the sorceress. “Uh, thanks,” he said awkwardly. He had never been good at such social requirements.

She grimaced. “I could think of a better way to express it than that. Don’t you at least owe me a kiss?”

“I guess I do,” he agreed reluctantly. He knew she was making it possible for him to try to save Kafka, so he shouldn’t begrudge her that much in return.

She spread her arms. “Then do it, you handsome hunk.”

Mich nerved himself and took her in his arms. Her body was surprisingly supple. Suddenly she looked exactly as she had the night before, the most exquisite creature he could imagine. It turned out to be easy to kiss her.

After a while she drew away. “I made myself an oath I wouldn’t vamp you, this time,” she murmured. “Go, before I forget it.” Her hand touched the décolletage of her robe as if barely restrained from ripping it open. “At least now you suspect what you’ve been missing.”

He did indeed. He turned away, afraid that if he didn’t he would tear open that robe himself. She laughed, satisfied.

Mich, Heat and Spirit flew back down the mountain. Snort was waiting for them and they trotted eastward toward the river, just as if there had been nothing special during the past day and night. Snort even had the grace not to sniff too obviously at the scent of the sorceress’s perfume, which clung to Mich.

“Where did you go after you were rejected by the group, Spirit?” Mich asked.

There was no response from the huge beast. He just kept pace with Heat and ignored any talk that was directed at him.

“I wonder what’s up with that unisus,” Mich muttered. “Is he deaf?” he thought privately to Heat.

I don’t know, his mind is closed, but I can feel that he has some hostility toward us. Perhaps he is just nervous about the journey.

“I hope that’s it.” Mich decided he shouldn’t push the issue. Spirit might be dangerous. He didn’t try to talk to the black unisus again.

Meanwhile their journey continued. He hoped that they would arrive at the river before nightfall. The dangers of the night were worse than the dangers of the day.

Nola had just finished her household chores and was ready to go to the beach, when Kudo knocked over one of her favorite plants. Clods of moist dirt spilled over onto the carpet. Nola’s face reddened.

“Bad cat! Bad, bad, bad!” she yelled. The cat scooted under the sofa and cowered while Nola vacuumed up the mess. She loved that cat, but sometimes Kudo got on her last nerve. If John decided to come home and found the mess, he would throw Kudo out the window and probably slap Nola for it.

She thought about her trip today. She wondered what had possessed her to go to the beach anyway. She never liked to go alone, so she never went anywhere. She had no friends. Except for Lori. Nola had known her for three years. She was the kind of person one wouldn’t want to associate with on the first meeting, but she did have her points. Nola had not been to see her in several weeks. Oh, well; it was not as if Lori would miss her. No one would.

Nola’s mother lived in the apartment building down the block from hers, but she could never get her mother to do anything with her. Nola just turned into a blob of flesh after doing the chores.

Most often she would go right to sleep. She loved to sleep because sleep brought dreams. That was another reason she wished to die. She could sleep and never wake up. She could live in her dreams forever, except that as far as she knew, dead people didn’t dream. Everyone
had strange dreams but Nola knew that hers were really unusual.

Her dreams were different each night, but she dreamed of Spirit and Mich every time she closed her eyes. Mich was her true love. He would slay demons for her and she would make him happy, in her fashion, in return.

Every now and then Mich would be astride a nightmare that looked just like Spirit in every way except color. This other stallion was purest white, and instead of green, its eyes were like two huge silver ball bearings. When they were side by side, they looked like light and shadow.

Kudo crawled from under the sofa and didn’t even glance at Nola. She trotted over to the window and jumped into the sill. Nola walked over and patted her.

“Well, Kudo, I hope for your sake that our apartment isn’t torn up when I get home. I’m going to the beach now.” She paused, then added, “Come to think of it, I hope
I
don’t get torn up when I get home. Well, John’s never come home on his own before, so why would he now?” She scratched Kudo between the ears and Kudo turned her head, hissed and bit at her.

Nola knew that Kudo was not by any stretch an affectionate cat, but Kudo would never intentionally hurt her. She had come to accept Kudo’s strange way of acknowledging her love. A nibble and scratch meant “I love you” and a hiss meant “please pet me.”

At one-thirty Nola was ready, and left for the bus station. It was a long walk and the trip was costing her, but she wanted so much to go. Even alone.

Once on the bus, she sat and stared morosely out the window, watching the trees and houses go by. She tried to convince herself that she would have the best time ever. She would shop, swim, relax and eat, but most of all, sleep and have fun.

Nola’s mind’s eye did a double take. This is fun? she thought.
What was she doing? It would be fun if she was with two or three friends, but she wasn’t.

Then she got that funny feeling again, thanks to Esprit, that everything would be great. Esprit would want her to go. He ‘d say that everything would be great.

The first thing Nola did after the four-hour bus ride was check into a hotel and eat. After dinner, she figured she ‘d have just enough time for a swim and then she could watch the sunset. She grabbed her beach bag and sketch pad and headed off to the beach.

Tina woke from a dream of horror. She was shivering and sweating simultaneously. Probably she needed another fix. But the dream seemed like something else.

She tried to focus on it, but it was already fading. All she caught was something about a monstrous worm. A gigantic underground worm named Kras.

Did that make any sense at all? She doubted it, yet the dream had seemed so real.

But what was the point in thinking about a stupid dream? It was her life she had to be concerned about, though that was collapsing. In fact there didn’t seem to be much point in waking or dreaming.

Mich and his friends reached the River of Thought at sunset. This was the fourth time that Mich had visited the river and it looked more lovely each time he saw it.

The river looked like a liquid rainbow that had been slightly stirred. There were so many colors, and yet there were none. If he looked too closely for too long, the water would run clear in the spot at which he was staring, then recolor itself as his eyes moved to another spot. It was quite possible for one to sit for days at a time just watching the river, but Mich had no time for that now. He stepped forward, leading Spirit.

“Halt, obtrude!” cried a frail voice. A mermaid floated to the surface of the river, astride a hippocampus. She brushed back her wet blond hair with one hand and threatened with her trident in the other. Once her face was clear of hair and water she opened her eyes and stared. The fish-tailed horse bobbed up and down with the motion of his hooves and tail.

“Obtrude?” Mich asked, admiring her bare upper torso. “Do you mean ‘intruder’? In any event, I hope I’m not one.”

“Oh, my!” she gasped, putting her hand across her lips. Her gills fluttered nervously. “Please, Prince, you must forgive me!”

Mich saw how embarrassed she was. He tried to make her feel at ease. “It’s all right; you were only doing your job.”

“I’m sorry, Your Excellency. I did not know it was you. My side of the river was attacked not too long ago by the evil Fren. Reility put a potion in the water that forces my comrades and me to breathe air. I thought we could ambush him if we pretended that his pollution trick didn’t work and we hid under water, but we become weak if we stay under too long.” She was crying now. Mich could see others coming to the surface and gasping for breath.

The mermaids were commissioned to guard the river, and they were very well equipped for the job. Unless their power to breathe water was taken away.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’ll try to find a cure for the spell if you will let me lie in the water.”

“Your Highness, you know we cannot let you touch the water. We are immune to its intoxication but it can be very dangerous for you.” She looked distraught. She held her trident pointed at him.

“My father sent me. My mission is too important to let you stall me. Madrid of Mangor instructed me to lie down in the river and I must do it. Snort!” he called. “Help the mermaids to back off.”

Snort moved forward, licking his teeth.

The mermaid dropped her trident and threw up her hands to cover her face. “No! Do not harm me, good basilisk. I am sorry, Your Highness. I was only doing the job I was told to do, but I cannot harm you. You may lie in the water.”

“I couldn’t hurt you either.” Mich smiled and stepped out into the gentle current.

“Thank you,” he said, and bid the mermaids and his friends farewell.

Return soon, Michael,
Heat thought, nervously stamping a foot.

We must bring Nola here and return her to her home safely,
Spirit thought.

This was the first time Mich had felt Spirit’s voice in his mind. Spirit’s thought was forceful and demanding, yet there was a wonderful fondness in his deep voice when he thought her name.

Mich bowed his head to the mermaids and knelt in the water. Heat and Snort walked into the forest.

Mich felt the strangeness of the water as he leaned back into it. The liquid was tepid and soothed his body. He could feel the water as it slowly sucked away his conscious mind. He was suddenly surrounded by every hope and dream he could imagine. Never seeing them, only feeling them in different degrees of urgency, like different temperatures and textures. Then he could feel nothing at all. There was only a peaceful ambience. Similar to when he rested at night, only much deeper, as if his soul had slipped away for a moment.

Something changed.

When he opened his eyes again, he could see nothing but silver and blue. He started to take a breath, but discovered his mouth filling with a salty fluid. His face was now under water and he couldn’t breathe. The soft, rounded stones that were supporting his body in the shallow water of the riverbank were no longer there. He felt himself sinking.

He kicked his powerful legs and moved his arms frantically, trying to swim. His face broke the surface and he quickly inhaled, sucking in some of the briny water. He continued to struggle, and managed to get another breath.

This wasn’t at all what he thought would happen. He thought that he would have a dream. No Kafkian ever slept deeply enough to dream. Maybe this was a nightmare, but it sure didn’t feel like one. It was way too physical.

His lungs started to ache for oxygen and he could feel panic sweep
through his body. He tried to calm himself, but that was almost impossible while drowning.

On his third attempt to breathe, he missed the surface and swallowed another pint of salt water. He was unable even to choke.

This was no nightmare. He was going to die.