Incubus (80 page)

new Mortimer’s arm length with her tape measure.

Oh yeah, I’d be at that dress rehearsal. It’d give me a chance to kill two birds with one stone;

support Cassie, and keep an eye on
him.
In the meantime, I had a bigger problem to solve.

I had to figure out how to convince Lucas to tell me what he knew about the vessel.

Training sessions were becoming the perfect outlet for my pent up frustrations. After our fight, Lucas

put a little distance between us. He was still angry, and I totally got that. But it made finding time to

talk to him alone impossible. Also, I was respecting his request that I not visit his dreams, which

killed any chance of a private conversation entirely. But when Saturday dawned, I was faced with the

uncomfortable reality that we only had one week until the full moon. I was running out of time to be

patient. Lucas had the key, and if we couldn’t talk, he couldn’t hand it over.

As I fought Gretchen and Matthew that weekend, I turned my thoughts to the enemy, picking apart

our assumptions about the incubus—and who he might be. Mr. Hart didn’t seem overtly supernatural,

but then again, I hadn’t been able to glean anything from his dream. What did that mean? And who

was the stranger in Seth’s house? That guy
had
seemed otherworldly—but I hadn’t seen him before or

since, and whoever the incubus was seemed extremely plugged into what was going on in my life. So

—where did that leave us? Nowhere.

Sunday’s training session was grueling, but I embraced it. The harder I trained, the less time I had

to think about the approaching solstice. For a few hours every day, I didn’t have the energy to think

about anything beyond the next attack, the next defense.

“It’s good to see you applying yourself again,” Hale said as we broke for some water. “I haven’t

seen you this focused since—” Hale hesitated only briefly, then gave me an encouraging smile.

“Well, you know, incubus on the loose,” I murmured. Lucas shot a look at me from the corner of

his eye. I drank half a bottle of water, then set the bottle down on the back table.

“Okay, let’s try another round. Lucas, you can sit this one out,” Hale said.

“Gladly,” Lucas said, pulling the tape off his hands.

Hale gestured to Matthew. “You take the front attack this time, Gretchen, you attack from behind.”

We moved to the mat, and Gretchen and Matthew surrounded me. It didn’t go well. I could handle

Matthew’s attack just fine—because I could see him. But Gretchen kept sneaking up on me and

pouncing. She wasn’t fighting full strength, but she still left a trail of bruises across my back. After

half an hour of this, Hale called a timeout.

“Look,” he said. “I’ve seen Lilitu fighting groups of Guardsmen, and it’s like they can see where

they are even though they’ve got their backs to them.”

“Well, unless you can tell me
how
they do it, it’s not really helping,” I muttered.

“You’ve already done it, though,” Hale said. “Don’t you remember?”

I looked up sharply, and I did remember—there was that one tiny moment last week where I could

sense Matthew lunging for me. I glanced at Matthew and saw that he remembered it, too.

“Want to try again?” Matthew asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Try to keep from getting touched,” Hale suggested. “Don’t worry about attacking. This is purely a

test of your ability to evade.”

We spread out across the mat again. This time I tried to let my focus roam. Instead of keeping all

my attention on Gretchen, I let part of my mind wander. And then there it was—I could sense

Matthew behind me, springing. I sidestepped him easily and he lurched past, grinning.

“Nice,” he said.

Before I had time to savor my victory, I was flat on the mat. Gretchen had tackled me from behind

while my attention was focused on Matthew. I groaned, grateful for the mat that softened our landing.

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