Incubus (32 page)

Gretchen rolled off, sighing.

“Easy,” Matthew said, holding his hands out. Gretchen took one and I took the other, and Matthew

pulled us to our feet.

Hale glanced at his watch. It must have been past noon, because he clapped his hands. “Okay.

We’ll try again tomorrow.” Hale waved Gretchen and Matthew over for a mini-conference.

As they started to discuss training strategies for the next session, I walked over to Lucas.

“Do you feel like taking a walk around the block?” I asked. This was my last-ditch effort to do

things the nice way. “I was thinking about our fight and everything and—I think we should talk about

it.”

“I’ve got an AP History test tomorrow,” he said. “I’ve been studying all weekend but I’ve still got

three chapters to review if I want to pass this thing. You know, just in case the world doesn’t end.”

Lucas flashed me a brief smile then walked up the stairs without a second look back.

I watched him go, steeling myself for what I needed to do. How could it be that the greatest

obstacle to Lucas’s and my future was Lucas?

Slipping into the dream was as easy as diving into a pool. I took a moment to examine my dream

garden’s roses, afraid my incident with Lucas had chased the last bit of white out of the petals. They

looked almost unchanged, and I let out a sigh of relief. So whatever had happened between us, I hadn’t

hurt him.

I checked the shield around my dream. It was still solid. Alone. I was completely and utterly alone

here. No Guard barking orders, no high school drama, no father to disappoint, no Seth with his endless

preparations. I savored the feeling for a moment.

But I wasn’t here to relax.

I placed my hand on the ground, willed a pinhole crack to open in the shield around my dream. I

summoned the dream I was looking for, and it rose up out of the darkness like a glimmering jewel.

But this time, instead of barging in, I placed my hand around the dream and waited. In the front of my

mind, I held a request for permission to enter.

I felt the dream world around me shift. There was a tugging sensation, and then I was standing

next to Karayan in her dream. Sloping hills dotted with bluebells surrounded us. There was a sweet

scent to the landscape, even in the dream.

“Well,” she said. “Look who’s learned some manners.”

I bristled, but managed to force my irritation down. “I—yeah. I wanted to apologize for last time,

pulling you into my dream and—”

“Please.” Karayan waved my apology away, impatient. “You want something. Just get to it

already.” I took a deep breath, and let it out. This was the moment of truth. Karayan studied me,

suddenly looking interested. “Hm. Things are about to get juicy, I can tell.”

“I need to know how to get someone to tell me a secret in their dream.”

Karayan tilted her head. “Well, that could be easier or harder depending on how strongly this

person feels about keeping their secret, you know,
secret.
”

“But it’s possible?”

“Oh, yeah. Totally possible.”

“And,” I dropped my eyes, “is there a way to keep the dreamer from remembering?”

Karayan shrugged. “If you’re sure that’s what you want to do.”

“I don’t have much of a choice,” I said.

“Okay. Who pissed you off? Dish,” Karayan said. “Wait, let me guess. That little blond from your

school. What’s her name? Treesap?”

“It’s not Amber.” I shifted my weight, trying to keep my anxiety at bay. “Are you going to tell me

how to do this or not?”

“Tit for tat, sweetie.” Karayan crossed her arms and gave me a flat smile.

“Fine. It’s Lucas.” If I’d been in the real world, I’d have blushed. But here, I had more control.

Karayan’s eyebrows jumped. “Really? The golden boy’s keeping secrets, is he? Not stepping out

on you?”

“It’s not like—” I stopped myself. I didn’t have to defend Lucas to her. “It’s not actually any of

your business.”

Karayan’s eyes flicked away. Wait. Had I hurt her
feelings?
“Whatever. I get my fix of teenage

drama on TV.”

“So, can we get to it, then?” I asked.

“So testy.” Karayan held up a hand as I started to respond. “Lesson the first. The easy part—and

you should keep in mind that none of this is easy—will be getting him to tell you his secret.”

“Okay, how do I do that?”

“It’ll be way easier if he doesn’t become lucid. Which means you need to slip into his dream and

let his mind direct the action.” Karayan gave me a suggestive smile. “But I’m guessing that’s

something you’re already familiar with.”

“But if he’s in control, how do I get the secret out of him?”

“You see the problem. My suggestion? Get him thinking about it before you show yourself in his

dream.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“Well, unless you want to tell me what this secret you’re hoping to learn is, that’s something

you’ll have to figure out on your own.”

I bit my lip, thinking. Fine. I could work it out.
Without
telling Karayan anything about the vessel

or the ritual. “What about keeping him from remembering?”

“Again, much easier if he doesn’t become lucid. A memory is like a weed.” Karayan gestured in

the air, and a tiny pink flower appeared in midair, hovering over the ground, complete from petals to

roots. “Once it’s planted in the mind, it has a chance to spread.”

She lowered her hand and the flower floated to the ground. As it made contact with the earth, the

roots dug in. A moment later, another flower sprouted, then another, and another. Karayan waved at

the flowers in a gesture that said, “you see?” She knelt beside the first flower.

“If you don’t want the memory to survive, you have to pull it out by the roots—meaning you can’t

leave even a little bit of it behind.” Karayan grabbed the flower, her fist closing around the base of the

stem like a vise. She pulled it out of the earth. But instead of the simple root system the flower had

had moments ago, these roots kept coming. Karayan pulled until first one, then two, then all of the

other pink flowers came out of the dirt, the last thread of root trailing free a moment later. “Done and

done,” Karayan said, satisfied.

“So, I’m looking for a flower?” I asked.

Karayan gave me a look of pure exasperation. “Seriously? It’s a
metaphor,
Braedyn. It helps to

visualize the memory as a physical thing, so you have something to grab onto.”

“How will I know I’m grabbing the right memory?”

Karayan folded her arms. “You’re Lilitu. Trust me, you’ll know.”

“Well, what if I—”

“Lesson’s over,” Karayan said. “Now go. Conquer.” She gave me a grim smile. “And, you’re

welcome.”

With that, I felt a slight pushing sensation. I let Karayan shove me out of her dream. It wasn’t

worth resisting her right now. Outside of Karayan’s dream, I let myself float in the formless expanse

of the infinite dream for a moment. It was peaceful watching the tide of dreams swirl in the vastness.

They moved like a distant city of fireflies, all going about their own individual lives. I wondered, if I

became human, would I still be able to visit this place? Or would I be relegated to my own individual

dream for the rest of my life? The thought unsettled me. Pushing it to the back of my mind, I returned

to my garden.

I didn’t feel any more prepared than I had a few minutes ago, but time was a luxury I couldn’t

afford to waste. I urged a pool of the infinite dream to gather at my feet, then called Lucas’s dream to

me. It rose out of the glassy pool, and I could sense Lucas—his essential stubborn, passionate
loyalty.

Before I closed my hand around his dream, I took a moment to ask Lucas for forgiveness for what I

was about to do.

I touched the surface of his dream. In it, Lucas was wandering through a crazy house. Its walls and

windows connected at odd angles, shifting when his attention moved away from them. Staircases and

hallways led everywhere, and each door seemed to open up a vast wing of the house previously

unexplored. It felt strange, watching him in his private dream without his knowledge. Voyeuristic.

Invasive. But I had a job to do.

First things first. How to make him think of the vessel? As I pictured it in my mind, one wall of

the house took on the squiggly lines and symbols we’d seen covering the vase in the photograph.

Lucas, walking by the wall, stopped to study it. As he did, the symbols on the wall clarified, changing

slightly from what I remembered. Lucas’s unconscious mind had taken the hint.

I had to trust that this would work. If it didn’t, I’d have wasted one of the very few nights we had

left before the full moon. I closed my hand around the dream, and slipped into Lucas’s unconscious

mind. Instead of steering his sleeping thoughts to lucidity, I let his dream place me, like a prop, where

it willed.

I found myself standing beside Lucas, holding his hand, studying the strange wall. Lucas glanced

at me, as though I had been there the whole time.

“It’s weird,” he said. “I know this somehow.”

I wanted to speak, to ask him how he knew it, but his dream was in control, and so instead I said,

“Let’s go back, Lucas. I’m frightened.”

“This—I think this is important,” Lucas said. He touched the wall, and it fell away, revealing a set

of stairs leading down.

My interest piqued, I wanted to peer into the blackness below. But dream-me hesitated, needing

Lucas to lead her forward.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m here with you.”

Dream-me squeezed his hand harder and followed him down into the darkness. When we reached

the bottom of the stairs, Lucas flipped a switch. We were standing in the Guard’s armory.

Dream-me looked confused. “What are we doing here?” she asked, finally echoing my actual

thoughts.

“Wait here,” he said. And I was forced to hover by the stairs anxiously while Lucas walked to the

back of the armory. He did something to one of the support posts, and I realized it wasn’t actually

supporting anything. It swung up, revealing a small hole under the floor. “I need your help,” Lucas

called.

Dream-me walked tentatively over to join him, even though I would have run if I were in control.

There, in the hole, was a small brass box covered with the same curving designs that we’d seen in the

photograph of the vessel.

“Should you be showing that to me?” Dream-me asked. I could have screamed. Lucas looked

stricken. He released the post and it swung back, covering the hole and hiding the box from sight.

Something changed in Lucas’s eyes. “Braedyn?”

The dream world rocked, and I found I was able to move my own body.
Oh no. He’s becoming

lucid.

“Lucas,” I said. “It’s okay. Let’s go upstairs.”

But Lucas looked around, saw where we were standing... remembered. “No. No,” he breathed.

“What—what did you do?”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“I promised,” he said. “I promised not to show you. You can’t go after it, Braedyn. Please, tell me

you’ll forget about this.”

I turned away from him, struggling for the calm I’d need to visualize Karayan’s memory flower.

Lucas grabbed my arm, turning me to face him. Panic swept across his face. “Murphy... he begged

me to keep you safe. I can’t believe I—” His eyes seemed to clear. “You invaded my dream—tricked

me. You made me
betray the Guard.
”

The earth rocked under my feet, but Lucas didn’t seem to notice.

“Braedyn?” Lucas’s grip tightened on my arm. He searched my expression with urgent need.

“I had to,” I whispered.

Lucas released me. A roiling fury chased the devastation out of his eyes. “No. No. Promise me you

won’t go after it.”

“Lucas—”

“Promise me! I need to hear you say it.” When I couldn’t answer, Lucas stepped back away from

me, his face contorting with agony. “I can’t believe this is happening. How could I have been so

stupid?!”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is my fault! I’m the one who—” Lucas turned aside, running a hand through his hair. “Okay,

no. We’ll move it. I’ll just tell them and they’ll move it, somewhere safe. Somewhere I won’t know to

look for it.”

Even in the dream, I felt hot tears stinging my eyes. Lucas read my expression and stopped pacing.

“What—why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.

“I’m sorry, Lucas. But you won’t remember any of this.”

“What does that mean? Braedyn?”

Instead of answering, I squeezed my eyes shut and visualized the same flower Karayan had used.

The terrible metaphor. I felt something twist in the dream and opened my eyes. The flower bloomed in

the cement at my feet, one perfect pink flower. And then it spread, shooting across the basement floor

like wildfire, fueled by Lucas’s lucid mind. I grabbed the first flower and pulled.

Lucas doubled over, gripping his head. A terrible scream tore itself out of his throat.

I almost released the flower. But the blooms were already spreading up the stairs. “I’m sorry,” I