Dreamfever (22 page)

“Most of the protesters were there before we arrived,” Whim pointed out. “And some of those eggs were frozen, which means they planned this at least a day ago.”

“How did they know we were going to use the janitor's entrance?” Josh asked. “Davita, did you tip them off?”

“Of course not,” Davita said, but Will could tell Josh didn't trust the answer. He didn't either.

“I thought I'd win them over,” Mirren whispered. “If I did well.”

“There weren't any protesters when Mirren came into Braxton for the Learning last week,” Josh said. “What happened between now and then?”

None of them knew. Like Mirren, Will would have expected her success to bring people over to her side, not alienate them.

“I've been monitoring DWTV and
The Daily Walker,
” Davita said, “and they haven't posted anything overly critical. A few editorials that were, perhaps … unkind.”

“What about online?” Josh asked. “What about
Through a Veil Darkly,
Whim?”

“I'm practically running a Mirren fan club,” Whim told her. “Which you'd know if you bothered reading it.”

Josh opened her mouth to retort, but Deloise said quickly, “What about the comments you said were weird?”

“What comments?” Mirren asked.

Whim shrugged uneasily. “Just, you know, a few conspiracy nuts have basically blamed her for every single political screwup and scandal since the beginning of time. Including the St. Edward's Island Massacre.”

“That was more than a hundred years ago,” Deloise pointed out. “Accusing Mirren of being involved doesn't make any sense.”

“Yeah, I tried to explain that, but nobody really wants to hear it. I think some people are getting a kick out of being over-the-top. I mean, who would actually believe that Mirren's going to lead the Gendarmerie in a coup? It's the Internet, you know? It's all just hyperbole.”

“Hyperbole?” Davita asked, her voice rising within the limousine. “Two gendarmes were beaten by a crowd in Braxton last night.”

“Oh,” Whim said with a wince. “I did not know that.”

“I can't have someone Mirren is associated with fomenting rebellion,” Davita told him.

“I'm not fomenting anything!” Whim replied. “I wasn't even part of that conversation!”

“Why not?” Will asked. “You're the moderator, aren't you?”

Even Deloise was angry at Whim. She smacked the back of his head and said, “Did you at least ban those people from the site?”

“Yeah, of course,” he said. “I mean, I will.”

“Oh, my God,” Josh said. “What else are they saying?”

“Everybody loves her,” Whim protested. “Everybody except the people who don't want a queen and the people who … think she's Adolf Hitler. But it's really a very small group of people who have flipped out. I assume they're the ones who showed up with eggs today.”

Will remembered the twisted expression of the woman who'd smashed the egg in Josh's eye. Her rage had billowed around her.

Isn't all of this somehow disproportionate?
Will wondered.
What is it about Mirren that makes people act like idiots? Is there really that much animosity toward her parents, all these years later?

Or is it something else?

Mirren was crying again. “Can we talk about this later?” Haley asked pointedly.

“Yeah, of course,” Whim said, straightening up. He put a hand on Mirren's shoulder, which made her jump. “Don't worry, friend. We won't let anything happen to you. That pretty head's gonna stay right where it is.”

Mirren cried harder.

“Whim!” Deloise cried, and smacked the back of his head again.

“This is all very disturbing,” Davita said. “I think we should arrange professional security for you, Mirren.”

“The Accordance Conclave is less than two weeks away,” Deloise said, pulling a package of tissues from her purse. “You just have to hang on a little longer.”

Mirren dried her face slowly, taking deep breaths as she did so. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I'm being childish.”

“No, you aren't,” Haley told her.

“You really aren't,” Josh said.

Mirren wiped her nose. Somehow she managed to look elegant even when crying. “Maybe I should quit. Maybe the dream-walker community is trying to tell me that they don't want me to lead them. Maybe we don't need to wait until the AC to hear them.”

Everyone protested—except for Haley, Will noted. He kissed her hair and said nothing.

“But you're so close,” Josh said. “All you have to do is give the junta that thing, that—what's it called?”

“The Karawar,” Mirren said.

“Yeah,” Josh said. Then she added, “What is that?”

“It's an ancient horn,” Mirren said tiredly. “When blown, it emits a sound that only dream walkers can hear. The archaeological evidence suggests it called dream walkers to an annual meeting, before the advent of quick communication.”

“Why would Peregrine want it?” Josh asked.

Mirren and Davita looked at each other with identical expressions of bewilderment. “I don't know,” Mirren admitted. “Everyone stopped using the Karawar after the Industrial Revolution. My family only held on to it so it wouldn't be lost.”

“So you have it?” Deloise said. “What would happen if you gave it to Peregrine and he used it?”

“My understanding is that all the dream walkers in the area—up to three or four hundred square miles—would hear a whistling sound and feel a strong urge to walk toward Peregrine. But the urge wouldn't be undeniable, and since almost no one knows what the sound means, most of them would probably fight off the urge and stay home.”

“Like a dog whistle for dream walkers,” Whim said. “That's awesome.”

“My only thought,” Mirren said, “is that Peregrine's trying to prove I'm as secretive as the monarchy used to be. Admittedly, they never would have turned the Karawar over to anyone. Maybe Peregrine thinks I won't, either, and that he'll be able to point at me and say I'm nothing new. But I have no issue with giving the Karawar to the junta, or to whatever government the dream walkers elect. If that's the trap Peregrine is trying to set for me, why would he have chosen the Karawar? He must guess I have access to far more powerful instruments, ones I
would
resist giving up.”

“Maybe the other ministers chose the task,” Davita suggested.

“Or maybe,” Josh said, “Peregrine is planning to use the Karawar in a way we haven't thought of.”

Mirren sank down into her neck brace, like a turtle withdrawing. “Let's hope not.”

*   *   *

Exhausted, they lapsed into silence during the second half of the trip. Josh let her head fall back and took Will's hand in hers, but her touch made his skin crawl.
Does she let Feodor hold her hand in her dreams?
he wondered, pulling away.

Josh lifted her head. She turned halfway in her seat so she could see him and whispered, “Is everything okay?”

If he'd caught her dreaming about Ian, her ex-boyfriend, he wouldn't have been nearly as upset. He didn't expect her never to think about anyone else or to control the content of her dreams. What bothered him wasn't that she'd dreamed of someone besides him; it was that she'd dreamed of
Feodor
.

Feodor had hurt Will. He'd hurt Josh, too, and Haley, and Ian, and Winsor, and dozens of other people whose souls he had trapped. That Josh dreamed of him touching her, kissing her, was perverse. It suggested that something was deeply wrong in Josh's mind, and as much as anything, Will felt like a fool for not having seen that in her sooner. She'd tricked him, just as Feodor had.

“Did you have a nightmare last night?” he asked her.

Did she hesitate before shaking her head? In the dim light, he couldn't tell.

We had one of our most important talks in a limo,
he thought, recalling how a thunderstorm had darkened the car's interior that day; today the summer sun had set and left them in a purple gloaming. That day she had told him the truth, and today she'd lied.

“Will?” she asked.

He couldn't deal with it all just yet.

“Tomorrow,” he whispered. “Let's talk tomorrow.”

Through a Veil Darkly

A Royal Romance?

We here at
TaVD
have obtained the first confirmation of a romance blossoming between Princess Mirren and Haelipto McKarr. Some of you will remember Haelipto as one of the three teens who confronted and defeated Feodor Kajażkołski back in February, although he is the lowest-profile member of the trio. Humble, thoughtful, and good-natured, he's also able to turn heroic at a moment's notice, as he demonstrated when he and Will Kansas rushed the freezing and half-drowned princess into a hot shower (photo below).

Princess Mirren seems to have fallen hard for young Mr. McKarr, whom she calls Haley, as do his close friends. Although they met only a few short weeks ago, rumor has it they not only spend every waking moment together, but the princess even sleeps in his room! Will he prove to be the steady support she needs as she works her way through the trials, or will their royal romance crumble under the stresses of life in a world that long ago gave up on a dream-walker monarchy?

Comments:

scorpio_666 says:
What a slut.

JMallShopper says:
Seriously. Three weeks and she's already living with him!

FemmeFatal says:
I'm shocked to hear you slut-shaming someone you don't even know. Young women need to support each other in building self-esteem. Maybe if Mirren had friends who helped her do that, she wouldn't need to throw herself at a guy to feel confident and beautiful.

pouter40242 says:
I thought that guy was a deaf-mute.

MCampbell_TarkenElectric says:
I had this dream that she told me she was secretly behind the Silty incident.

fgh243l says:
Of course she was!

MCampbell_TarkenElectric says:
She said she faked Silty's death, that he's really been living with her in Switzerland.

FemmeFatal:
What? That's crazy. I knew Silty. He never would have abandoned his wife and kids to live in Switzerland.

 

Nineteen

When Josh entered
the living room, the first thing she noticed was that someone had spray-painted the word “tulz” across the windows at the front of the house.

“What is that?” she asked Deloise.

“Oh, my gosh!” Deloise cried. “That's awful! Who did that?”

Deloise had already returned to the kitchen to warn Mirren by the time Josh figured out that she was looking at the word “slut” reversed. Someone had graffitied the living room windows.

Haley didn't let Mirren see the slur and instead took her straight upstairs to rest. Whim and Will followed them, leaving Josh and Deloise in the kitchen with Lauren, Kerstel, and Whim's father, Alex.

“I'll clean the windows tomorrow,” Josh promised, disturbed by this further sign of acrimony toward Mirren. “Do I need to find her somewhere else to stay?”

“I don't know,” Lauren said. “But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't concerned about her being here.”

“Where would she go?” Alex asked. “We're the closest thing she has to family.”

Everyone except Josh, Will, Haley, and Davita believed that Mirren's family was back in Switzerland and didn't approve of her political ambitions. Even Deloise didn't know about the Hidden Kingdom.

“Davita said the security team should be here before midnight,” Kerstel said.

“I don't know that two men will be able to hold off a mob,” Lauren told his wife. “But I have to admit that I can't imagine turning her out now.”

“And she and Haley are so fond of each other,” Kerstel said.

“As my son has so carelessly informed the world,” Alex added.

“What does that mean?” Josh asked.

“I think I'm the only person in this house who actually reads Whim's blog,” Alex reflected. “A few hours ago he posted a picture of Haley and Mirren in the shower together after the trial.”

Can't people just lay off Mirren for a day or two?
Josh thought, even as she got up from the table. “I better go warn Haley. Maybe he can make sure she doesn't see it.”

She went upstairs to the guys' apartment. Haley was watching TV in his raggedy old flannel bathrobe, looking tired and like he didn't want to interact anymore that day. But when Josh relayed the news, he grabbed his tablet and pulled up
Through a Veil Darkly
. Josh stood near him so they could read the latest entry together.

Haley finished before she did, but not before she'd read the brunt of the post and caught a glimpse of the photograph of Haley and Mirren in the shower. “Whim!” Haley shouted, and Josh jumped at the volume of his voice.

Haley banged on Whim's door, then let himself in. His eyebrows were drawn together in anger, making his features sharper and his face older. “What is
this
?” he demanded.

Josh followed him into Whim's room, which was outfitted with a minifridge, a hot plate, and a microwave stationed among the mess. Whim was lounging on his bed—just a twin mattress on the floor—and typing on his laptop.

He sat up when Haley stormed into the room. “Okay, dude, don't freak out. I'm trying to do Mirren a favor.”

Haley waved the tablet at him. “You said she's sleeping in my room!”

“Technically, that's true,” Whim said, but under the heat of Haley's glare, he admitted, “Okay, so I juiced it up a little. Everybody loves a royal romance.”

“They're calling her a slut,” Haley said.