Dreamfire (36 page)

Peregrine nodded. “Do you consider her a good teacher?”

“Excellent.”

“What makes her an excellent teacher?”

“Her patience, her clarity, and her understanding of what she teaches.”

“Would you elaborate on her understanding?”

Will didn't know exactly what the man was asking for. “She has a lot of experience dream walking. She's well trained, and she knows what to expect.”

“She knows what to expect? How does she know?”

“Experience.” He struggled to not sound … spooky. “Instinct,” he told them.

“Instinct?” Peregrine looked delighted with Will's answer. “How exactly would you define ‘instinct,' Apprentice Kansas?”

Will got the distinct impression that he was being danced into a corner, so he gave a textbook answer. “As the subconscious interpretation of subtle cues that the conscious mind misses.”

“That must be fun to watch,” Peregrine commented. There was a vicious glint in his eyes. “Sometimes you must think she's practically psychic.”

“I've never thought that,” Will told him honestly, thinking of Haley.

Peregrine abruptly changed tack. “How many dreams have you walked with Journeyer Weavaros?”

“I don't know.”

“Estimate, if you would.”

He considered for a moment. “Maybe seventy.”

“How many nightmares would you say were successfully resolved?”

“Many.”

“Many? Does that mean most of them?”

“Most of them,” Will agreed.

“Three out of five? Four?”

“Nine out of ten.” He remembered the study that had pegged Josh's resolution rate at 88 percent.

“So what you're telling us,” Peregrine said, summarizing to suit his purposes, “is that not only does Journeyer Weavaros have an uncanny ability to anticipate what might occur in-Dream, she's also able to fully resolve almost every nightmare?”

I want to say no just to watch his face fall,
Will thought. Reluctantly, he answered, “Yes.”

“Apprentice Kansas.” Another dramatic spin-turn. “When Journeyer Weavaros takes action within a nightmare, how quickly does the dreamer usually respond?”

“Very quickly.”

“Faster than when you take action?”

“Yes, but my actions aren't as well chosen—”

“When Journeyer Weavaros takes action, would you say the dreamer responds quickly, or instantly?”

Instantly—at least, it often felt instant. Some days, it was as if the dreamer followed Josh's train of thought and didn't even need her to act. Other days, things moved slower, but often—

Will suddenly understood what Peregrine was trying to make him say, so he said the opposite. “Quickly.”

But everyone had seen him hesitate. Peregrine pounced.

“When the man you call Snitch glanced at the exit you were holding open, did Journeyer Weavaros follow his gaze?”

“Of course she did—she was trying to see what he was looking at. So was I.”

“So, at the moment that the doorway vanished, Snitch wasn't the only one looking at it.”

Any other answer would have been ridiculous. “No, he wasn't.”

The room was too quiet. Will couldn't quite believe Peregrine was going to ask what Will thought he was going to ask until the words were spoken.

“Have you ever seen Journeyer Weavaros, in any way, alter the Dream?”

Will was only distantly aware of the room's reaction: not just murmurs and whispers, but fully voiced expressions of disbelief. Will himself felt only cold fury.

He gave Peregrine a hard look. “
No
.”

Peregrine appeared undeterred by Will's answer. “After the doorway vanished, you opened a second exit, correct?”

“Yes.”

“What was Journeyer Weavaros doing?”

“Beating Snitch with a microwave.”

“But she didn't kill him. And she apparently didn't kill the man she called Gloves, either, did she?” He considered. “Why do you suppose she didn't kill them?”

It was a stupid question—these were all stupid, leading, preposterous questions. But when Will opened his mouth to declare that Josh wasn't a bloodthirsty killer, Peregrine held up his hand.

“You have been a great help, Apprentice Kansas. Thank you. You're free to leave.”

But Will couldn't leave, not when Josh had been so inaccurately portrayed. Knowing he might be making an awful mistake, Will said desperately, “I believe that Josh's ability to act so effectively within the Dream comes from her habitual breaking of Stellanor's First Rule of dream walking.”

The crowd murmured; someone actually laughed; someone else said, “What's Stellanor's Rule?”

Peregrine just appeared perplexed.

“Stellanor's First Rule of dream walking is never to let the dreamer's fear take you over,” Will said.

“Yes, I think most of us here—”

“I believe that each time Josh goes into a nightmare, the first thing she does is consciously break Stellanor's First Rule in order to give herself a more complete picture of the situation and a better chance of anticipating what might occur.”

Peregrine clearly hadn't appreciated being cut off. “And she's told you that she does this?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know she's doing it?”

“I've … It's just something I've deduced by observation.”

“Yes, well,” Peregrine said dryly. “Thank you for your uneducated opinion. You may go.”

Will stood up, but he made no move toward the door. He couldn't go, not with so much unsaid, not after he'd thrown Josh under the bus for nothing. Peregrine, halfway back to his chair, paused to look at his granddaughter's apprentice when he realized Will wasn't walking away.

“Now what?” he demanded.

“She warned you,” Will said. “She warned you about those men, and you did nothing. Dustine—” He heard his voice crack as he recalled the day she had sought him out in the library. Instead of the argument he meant to make, he heard himself say, “She was kind to me.”

Peregrine's face changed. The little smirk of pleasure he had worn throughout the interrogation faded and revealed something closer to despair. A tremor ran through his jaw.

Whatever else Will had been about to say, he forgot it then.

“Yes,” Peregrine said softly, “I imagine she was.”

Will turned away from the junta and strode toward the door so fast he almost slid on the marble floor in his ridiculous slippers.

Davita rushed toward him. “This is a sham,” Will hissed before she even had time to speak. “You walked us right into a trap—and you knew, didn't you? You knew what he had planned!”

“Will, wait a minute—”

“How dare you drag us down here to perform in your kangaroo court!”

Davita grabbed his arm, but he shook her off. “Don't go out there and say that to Josh,” Davita begged. “You're only going to make this worse.”

“I don't think it can get any worse,” he snapped, and flung the doors open.

Josh met Will in the anteroom. “What happened?”

“Will,
don't,
” Davita said again.

Will glanced at her—at the makeup she used to conceal herself, at the flawless, unquestionable face she put on. He looked back at Josh. “Your grandfather is trying to pin you as an accomplice.”

Josh stepped back, growing smaller, as though Will's words had weakened every part of her. She shook her head.

“Dammit, Will, stop!” Davita said.

“He wanted me to make it look like you're working with them. He wanted me to say that you can control the Dream, that you have their powers. Josh.” Will leaned forward, trying to push through the stunned glaze over her eyes. “We have to leave now. We have to get out of here before they take this any further.”

“You can't leave,” Peregrine announced, appearing behind Will. A huge, gloating smile now dominated his face. “We need you to stick around for a while, Joshy.”

“Let's just go,” Will told her.

“I have a warrant,” Peregrine pointed out. “You could join Ben Sounclouse in the jail.”

“Young Ben—” Josh began, before repeating, “A
warrant
?”

“By order of the junta, if you try to leave the building, I am authorized to use whatever force is necessary to keep you here.”

“On what grounds?” Will demanded.

“That you conspired to commit Dream crimes, including murder, intended murder, and anarchistic use of inter-universal gateways.” He looked more pleased with himself than ever. “Same charges as Ben, the crafty old fool.”

When Josh proved speechless, Will burst out, “You're a scapegoat, Josh. These ineffectual idiots can't catch Snitch and Gloves, so they're trying to pin everything on you.”

“Peregrine,” Davita broke in, “go back into the amphitheater for a minute. Let me talk to Josh.”

Peregrine folded his hands across his bloated belly. “I don't think so, Davey. I don't know what you've been trying to hide from me—you and Ben Sounclouse—but I'm not going to politely leave the room while you conspire against me.”

“Josh lives in my district,” Davita shot back, “so until I sign your damn warrant, it's worthless.”

“I don't trust these people,” Will told Josh desperately, but she barely seemed to hear him.

“I think this young brat is the one you shouldn't trust,” Peregrine snapped. “He just made you both look like fools in front of the entire community. And as for you, Davita—you've forgotten your place, and who put you there. You would have burned to the ground with the royal palace if I hadn't stood up for you.” He drew himself up. “However, I'm a reasonable man, and I'm willing to be reasonable now. I'll make you a deal, Josh. I'll give you this warrant, and you can shred it or burn it or wipe your ass with it, but in return, I want your scroll.”

The words were so unexpected that they took Will several seconds to process. He guessed that Josh had the same issue by the hollow way she repeated, “My scroll…?” Even Davita stood mute, her open mouth revealing the lipstick on her front teeth.

“That's right,” Peregrine said. “This warrant, for your scroll. Hell, I'll even release Young Ben.”

“Why?” Josh asked.

“I've got my reasons.”

Will didn't know what decision Josh would make. Apparently neither did Josh, because she just stood there, frozen, until Davita said, “This is ridiculous, Peregrine. She's not going to give you her scroll.” Turning to Josh and Will, she said, “The limo is outside. Go back to the house and stay there, I'll call. This isn't what it looks like, Josh, believe me.”

“I don't know what to believe,” Josh said, finally finding her voice again. Her eyes had lost their glaze, and she looked sharply at Davita. “We warned you—we told you about Feodor and the men and that they weren't just a nightmare. We told you and Grandma that!”

“You told us,” Davita agreed. “And we told your grandfather.”

“No, you didn't,” Peregrine said with a look so innocent it was almost a parody. Then he smiled at his own joke.

“Are you
happy
?” Josh shouted at him, her temper finally exploding. “You hated Grandma for all those years and now she's dead and you're
happy
?”

Josh lunged at him, and Will and Davita both threw themselves in front of her. Davita grabbed Josh's chin and made her look away from her grandfather's cruel smile. “Josh, I am trying to protect you. Will, take care of her.”

He nodded as Peregrine said, “Yes, have the outsider look after her. That will work.”

“Shut up,” Josh said. Then she called her grandfather a name that made Davita wince. Will hadn't heard that kind of language since he'd left the county home.

Peregrine laughed. Will was more than a little desperate to leave, but as he took Josh's right hand, Peregrine wrapped his spindly fingers around her left arm. Will felt a surge of incredible anger that this twisted little man would grab Josh so tightly.

“You're not going anywhere,” Peregrine told her, deadly serious.

Davita only groaned. “Pere—”

“Let go of me,” Josh told her grandfather in a flat, cold voice. “That's the only warning I'm going to give you.”

His other hand snaked toward the shoulder of her robe, and Josh twisted within his grasp. From under the folds of her wool and silk robe, her slippered foot shot out like a thrust sword and connected soundly with Peregrine's breastbone.

He went down without a sound, flat on his back. Josh and Will stumbled away while Davita swore and dropped to the floor beside him. Peregrine's eyes fluttered shut, then opened again. He tried to speak but his mouth moved as silently as a fish's.

Josh looked at Will. “I knew I'd end up kicking him,” she said.

Will honestly couldn't decide whether he wanted to laugh or cry.

“Go!” Davita told them. “Just go!”

They turned and bolted for the elevator.

 

Twenty-nine

When they reached
the sidewalk, Josh could still feel her grandfather's hand on her arm. He might still have been digging his fingernails into her flesh, the sensation was so strong.

Outside, rain fell so hard it blurred the lines of the buildings. Josh and Will ran toward the limo, parked a block south. The first puddle soaked Josh's slippers all the way through. Will ran beside her with his eyes wide and his auburn hair plastered to his neck, cringing when lightning struck less than half a mile away.

“In!” Will told her, throwing open the limo door. She tumbled into the vehicle, a chilly but safe harbor from the wind and rain. Will followed, slammed the door, and started hitting buttons randomly. “Where's the intercom?” he muttered as the dome lights flashed on and off. For a moment the moonroof opened, prompting both of them to swear as water poured inside.