Quicksilver Dreams (Dreamwalkers) (30 page)

“I’m sorry, Ryder. I didn’t mean to make you relive something so painful. I can see why you’d be so upset.”

He shook his head. Looking bleak with the weight of his guilt, his gaze met mine.

“It’s my fault she died.”

Chapter Thirteen

What?

His words had been spoken in a deathly quiet voice. I didn’t understand what he’d said, because the idea of anyone being responsible for the horrific death of a sibling was incomprehensible, and I leaned up on an elbow to better see his face. He didn’t meet my searching eyes, and instead, he stacked his arms behind his head. A somber resolve fell over his face, a curtain that masked his inner world, as he looked up at the ceiling.

I was blocked out again. Disconnected.

“You wanted to know, so now you do, but I don’t talk about it. Ever,” Ryder said firmly, his eyes shuttering. I could feel him withdrawing from the conversation emotionally.

Though his face took on the now-familiar stony, implacable look, I could see the pain in his eyes, which was now unbearable to me. In spite of feeling like I was reaching into the lion’s cage, I stretched a soothing hand to his face, but he didn’t want to accept my comfort. He flinched away, catching my hand firmly.

“I don’t believe it.” My voice quivered. I pulled my hand back, hating the feeling of being rebuffed after the intimacy we’d shared, particularly since I was still sitting with a sheet clutched up to my naked breasts. Besides, what had he expected me to do after making that kind of statement? Say “There, there,” and let it go? That’s not who I am, and yet I felt like I’d waded into some shockingly cold water.

He shot a look at me, and in a hard voice he said, “Just because you don’t want something to be true doesn’t make it untrue.”

Deeper water. Icy. “And by the same token, just because you think something’s true doesn’t automatically make it true.”

“Leave it alone.”

He turned away, punched his pillow and set his head on it, effectively shutting down our talk. I was left staring at his back.

The Alaskan tundra might as well have been between us for the sudden freeze-out that took place. Being a girl without any kind of relationship experience or sense of self-confidence in my personal life, I lay there tense, feeling cold. It was probably the worst thing he could have done. Yelling at me is more tolerable than pushing me away. At least someone who’s yelling at you notices you.

The bed suddenly felt so cold, and I wished I had some clothes on. Being naked made me feel vulnerable. I lay back on my side, faced away from him, and pulled the blankets up to my neck. A flashback to my aunt’s trailer and the remembered horror of being reliant on someone who didn’t want me there cropped up to keep me company in the silence of the room. My aunt’s not-so-quiet conversations about “little Miss Thinks-she’s-better-than-everyone-else, just like her mother” had been common, along with “isn’t she just such a smarty-pants smart-ass who just thinks her shit doesn’t stink.”

I’d frequently wondered what my aunt meant by that, because I always tried so hard to be helpful, cleaning up the trailer and getting a part-time job to help pay for bills, groceries or just whatever was needed. And still, I was always on the shit list. My cousin was the problem. She was the teen getting drunk, staying out late, having boyfriends left and right, arguing constantly with my aunt, her mother.

My heart clenched, wishing for a place where I could find solace, just be me, and not have to constantly wonder if I could trust the people around me to not want to hurt me. I needed my own space. I needed to go home, but where was that? I just didn’t know anymore. My apartment was no longer that space, having been violated by a burglar.

I felt small and alone in a way I hadn’t felt for so long.

“Dammit,” Ryder suddenly growled. Abruptly, he turned over and scooped me into a spoon again. I was enveloped in his strength, warmth, spicy scent and scratchy whiskers against my neck, feeling a sense of unwelcome rightness. Reminding me that he was listening in, he muttered, “You’re here because I wanted you here. Safe. Now go to sleep.”

Reluctantly, somewhat sullenly, I acknowledged the pleasure his actions brought me, but it was disheartening to realize how much I wanted him with me. How could this go well? It wouldn’t. I could sense things waiting out there in the darkness, just biding their time before they chose to come to light. Something was going to pop its ugly head out, and I was afraid I wasn’t going to be prepared for it.

“Don’t overthink it,” he muttered with a gentle squeeze, and with no small amount of exasperation, I finally put my mental wall up so I could think my thoughts in peace. Sheesh. I still wasn’t used to this new, superexposed life.

There were so many things I wasn’t used to, and that included the relationship I’d found myself in. In the three years since I’d moved out from my aunt’s trailer, I hadn’t really had to answer to anyone, but now Ryder had expectations.

Wow. Expectations.

I was so unsure of what they were, where the lines were drawn, and what was considered normal. I couldn’t help feeling insecure, which made me question everything that was happening. And really, what was happening here?

What was so bad that he had to shut down? What had happened to his sister? If we were going to agree on this kind of intimacy, didn’t I have the right to full disclosure? I could almost feel the unfinished energy surrounding him on Asily. She was the key to him and his behavior, and she was the reason why he was so adamant about my safety.

Just do it
whispered through my mind
.

Who’d said that? And what should I do?

Quietly, I listened for the whispered voice, but I only heard the wind outside. It had picked up and was gently whining against the curvature of the cave dwelling. Ryder didn’t seem concerned, so I relaxed.

It wasn’t long before I felt Ryder’s deep, even breathing.

He was so freaking confusing! Why was he so...so...moody? When he’d thought I’d dreamwalked into his dream a few nights ago, he’d been so angry. I hadn’t meant to. I hadn’t tried to. Then he’d turned passionate, hitting both ends of the spectrum in the space of ten minutes. This reality was so confusing. His world had layers that I knew nothing about, cultural norms that I had no ideas about.

Hold up.

Could I?

Should I?

Why, yes, I could, should and would. It was easier to handle something uncomfortable when in an alternate state of mind. I’d learned that, trying to assimilate the idea of being on a new planet, for crying out loud. He’d joined me in enough of my dreams without invitation, the big hypocrite. Double standards were not acceptable.

The longer I thought about it, the longer a very Grinchy idea surfaced. And really, he’d pushed me into this by not being more forthcoming to begin with, because now I was in a position of survival, wasn’t I? He was not sharing something, of which the side effects directly affected how he treated me, when I was completely reliant on his good will.

It was time to take my life back and figure out what was missing from the picture I’d found myself in.

It was time to dreamwalk. If I had been able to do it by accident, then maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to figure it out deliberately. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Concentrating on his image, I alerted to his energy signature, which my energy seemed to recognize naturally, and followed it to its source...

I was running through the woodlands with twigs and branches catching in my hair. Huge, monstrous fernlike vines grew magnificently like ivy around the trees, topping them with colorful pink and lavender blooms. Coming to mind were postcard pictures of Hawaii, though this place did not feel humid and tropical. The leafy growth made the air feel cool and refreshing, and dappled sunlight slanted through the trees. Looking up through the canopy of flowers, I could see that the woods I was in were actually part of the foothills of the mountains that were straight ahead. As I looked up at them, they felt imposing. Dark. Foreboding. I shivered as I noted the sharp crags and crevices.

A flash of movement through the trees reminded me that I was there to find Ryder, and I took off in that direction in a run. A young boy, maybe around twelve, with shaggy black hair, was dribbling around the trees expertly, in random directions, sometimes stopping to kick his ball at the trees so they’d bounce it back at him and sometimes just juggling it in place between his feet, knees, sternum and head.

Grabbing a mental image of myself at age ten or eleven, I morphed into my child self and jogged out of the brush. Child Ryder scowled at me. He looked a lot like adult Ryder when he did that.

Who are you?
His tone was confrontational, not at all friendly.

Tay.
I
live around here.

He looked at me suspiciously through his lichen-green eyes.
No you don’t.
I
know everyone who lives here.

We just moved here.

No you didn’t.
No one submitted a petition of relocation at the last council meeting.

Sheesh. Who knew it was such a major undertaking to move? Added to that, Ryder was naturally an authoritarian. He was standing tall and assured, his hands braced on his narrow hips, which was also very like adult Ryder when he was getting ticked with me.

My parents are visiting with friends to see if they want to move into the area.

Which friends?

Cynthia Rabek.

He weighed that for a moment, likely recognizing Cynthia’s family name. Apparently it wasn’t unheard of for people to visit each other.
Where is she?
Why isn’t she with you?

I
wanted to come out and play
,
but she didn’t want to.

He accepted this readily enough. With an apprehensive glance around, he gave a half-hearted smirk.
We’re not actually supposed to be out today.
There was a report of border disturbances.
You should go back to the Rabeks’ home.

You probably should too then
, I said pointedly.

I
can handle myself.
I
went through ODM training already.
He said this somewhat uneasily, with a glance up at the mountain.

ODM?

Retaining a superior expression when he looked down at me, he clarified,
Offensive-defensive-maneuverings training.

Does everyone have to do that?

Of course not
, he scoffed as only a twelve-year-old could.
Only boys.

That’s not fair.

He looked at me strangely, cocking his head to the side, his young face frowning in thought, then glanced up at the mountain again with unease.

Is there something up there?
I asked this because I could feel his growing apprehension. Was something about to happen?

The prison
, he muttered, setting a foot on his ball to keep it still. It looked like a regular soccer ball that would be found in any sporting-goods store back on Earth.

The prison is up in the mountains?
Who’s up there?
Anyone dangerous?

We captured Brausiians.

Brausiians?
How long have they been up there?

A
few months.
They attacked at the border to the north of here
,
killing a dozen of our soldiers.

What’s going to happen to them?

Probably going to be executed.
He looked up at the mountain again.
I
wish they had more security guards up there.

There aren’t that many?

He shook his head. Importantly, he reported,
The mountain is mostly made of granite
,
which is an effective block for mylunate transfer.

Granite?

He nodded.
They took a bunch of soldiers off prison duty because they wanted to spare as many soldiers for the border’s defense as possible.
There’s only a skeleton crew on-site at the prison.
There’ve been many attacks on the borders in the last month.

It sounds like a bad idea
,
taking soldiers off prison-guard duty.

My dad knows what’s best
, Ryder stated firmly, probably more to convince himself than anyone else, since it seemed as though he was expecting something bad to happen. A shiver danced down my spine at the prospect.

A shrill scream rent the air.

Asily!
The panicked horror on his face as he took off running through the woodlands had me following closely on his heels. Dodging around the maze of trees, turning left and finding no one, then right and finding no one, and spinning back around to run more was dizzying and terrifying. Leaves and branches scratched at my face and caught on my clothes. Ryder was hoarsely shouting,
Asily!
Answer me!
Please!

Another cry split the peaceful beauty with its ugly secret.

No!
Don’t!
A girl’s voice cried out before going silent.

Oh
,
no!
Ryder stopped running.
It’s too late.
He punched the tree directly in front of him once, twice, three times, sounds of anguish forced from his lips as he threw his body into each punch, making the blood run down his knuckles. Then he slid, boneless, down the trunk of the tree, bracing his head on his hands between his up-drawn knees.
It’s too late.
I’m so sorry.
I’m so sorry.
I’m so sorry.

Ryder
,
tell me!

She’s over there.
I
can’t go over there!
I
can’t look.
I
can’t look again.
He was shaking with his fear.

I morphed into my grown-up body.
Ryder.
It’s me.

His tearstained eyes lifted up at the change in my voice from child to adult. In just a few seconds, he knew who I was. Moved to comfort him, I knelt and grabbed his young body in a tight hug, and after a slight hesitation, he accepted my hug and returned it, digging his face into my neck.