The Dream Catcher's Daughter (21 page)

Trevor Ortiz lay comatose in Sheriffsburg
Medical Center because Jason had been ready to give up. Jason had been ready to
let go of everything, all because he felt personally responsible for Tara’s
death. He still felt that he was, but Tara had chosen to end her life, not
Jason. He felt guilty, but he had to try and move on. Trevor was still alive,
if only a little. Jason hadn’t failed everyone yet. And he wouldn’t.

He stood again, facing the windowed cell
wall. He stared at it, focusing every ounce of his anger and sorrow, every drop
of hope and joy, every bit of envy and lust—all of it into one thought. And the
thought came out of Jason’s mouth:

“Train man,

train
man,

ring
your bells.

Let your whistle blow.

Train man,

train
man,

I hear the wheels,

so
let’s go, go,
go.”

Silence. Nothing. Only the steady pound of
his heart and the hushed breathing of Len behind him. A few moments passed, and
still no sound. He slouched, his hopes dashed, and turned to Len. Then the jail
shook, brick and dust showering their cells. Jason fell to one knee, throwing
his arms over his head. A terrible screeching sound grated his eardrums. He
looked at Len—at the
O
of her mouth and her wide eyes—and realized what
was happening.

The train whistle screamed as brick and
steel were ripped away.

A giant hole in the wall gaped at Jason.
Sparks showered the cell room as the train scraped across the building’s
outside. Jason stood, smiling, as did Len. The grin they shared was the widest,
happiest either had even seen. The train stopped, and out of the door hopped
the conductor, though he looked different, somehow. But Jason had no time to
notice, because the conductor, unlike before, walked up to Jason and smiled.

“Well, well! You rang?” he said.

“Um...I did. But I don’t have any
tickets.”

The conductor waved Jason off. “Ticket?
Who said anything about a ticket? From now on, you’re a V.I.P.! You ride free,
my friend!”

Hope welled up inside Jason. He pointed to
Len. “And her?”

“As long as she’s your guest, her too!”

Jason turned to his cell door. Len clung
to her bars. Tears streamed down both their faces. After this, Len and Jason
would find Darlene. Together, they’d figure out how to deal with Shemillah and
the paladins.

An explosion rent the air. The steel door
at the end of the block skittered across the floor toward their cells as though
it were a leaf.

“Who locked the door?” said one paladin.

“Sirin was the last one I saw leave!” said
another.

“I haven’t been down here all day, you
dolts!” said Sirin.

As they drew closer, they saw the train
and the conductor. “Halt! Stop! Don’t try to escape!” They raised their glowing
swords. Jason had the feeling they’d hold nothing back, no matter what their
Mistress had planned for him. Jason looked back to Len and shook his cell door.
But it didn’t budge. Not even an inch.

“Just go,” said Len. “I’ll be fine.”

Jason wasn’t going to leave her. He wouldn’t
let another person down. Len smiled at him.

“Your father left a message. In case we
met up and he was...you know.”

One of the paladins swung his sword, a
firebolt zipping down the way, exploding against the far stone wall. Jason
barely dodged the blast and Len was thrown down. She coughed, trying to beat
the smoke away from her face.

“Len, stay there! I’ll get you!”

“No, listen! Your father said: Anyone who
interferes will be dealt with swiftly and without mercy!”

Another firebolt crashed just at Jason’s
feet. He flew back, sliding across the floor and into the side of the train.
The conductor ducked down, inspecting Jason. Jason looked up at the man.
Blinked.
Wait…when did he get boobs?

“I suggest we go now,” said the conductor.
“I’d rather not have fire damage on my train.”

He hoisted Jason up, helping him to the
door. Len smiled at Jason and raised a fist. “Forth!” she said. “That’s your
word of power, right? Well then, forth, Jason!”

And as the train door shut behind him and
the train sped away from the paladins’ stronghold, Jason sobbed. He wouldn’t
give up until all hope was lost. As long as Trevor, Len, and Darlene were
alive, hope would thrive.

The conductor had assured Jason they’d get
to the palace with plenty of time for Jason to return and save his friends.
Jason sat in the engine car with the conductor, his head tucked between his
knees. He needed to see the queen. She had been right when saying Jason
couldn’t become the Dream Caller. And there seemed to be something wrong, the
last time they spoke. He hoped it was possible she might know something about
the Dream Caller. Any possible weaknesses, for one thing. How Jason summoned
the train, for another.

He’d tried asking the conductor, but he
only offered Jason a grimace. “It baffles me as much as you, kid. But anyone
who has the ability is certainly welcome aboard.”

“You think the queen will know? About
this...ability?”

“The Queen knows a lot. If only she’d pull
herself together. She’s obsessed with protecting the kingdom. So obsessed, she
doesn’t make time to help people.”

“Help people?”

“Well, children mostly. The King loved
children. He’d visit their dreams and make all their nightmares go away. But
since he’s gone missing, the queen hasn’t been able to help the kids. She tried
for a while, but she just couldn’t keep it up. Not when she’s split up into
four other bodies.”

Jason counted off the Queen’s guards on
his fingers. There’s F, D, and of course, E. But that was only three. “Where’s
the fourth guard?”

The conductor shrugged. “She disappeared.
‘Round the same time as the king, I think.”

Jason looked up at the conductor and
squinted. He looked masculine. So why had Jason mistaken him for a woman in the
jail cell?

“I can feel your eyes on the back of my
head,” said the conductor, chuckling. “Is there something else on your mind?”

“Do you constantly change genders, or was
I seeing things?”

He laughed, losing his grip on the train’s
lever. The train slowed, but he snatched the handle back up, and the train
resumed full-speed. He glanced over his shoulder at Jason, a sly grin on his
face.

“Fancy me as a girl, did you? Well, hate
to burst your bubble, but usually I’m a guy. Simple as that.”

“But you were a girl. Back in the jail.”

“
Cuz
weird
things happen to dreams when they cross worlds. Unless they’re summoned by a
Dream Caller. Even they have it rough, at first. I remember when the first
Dream Caller came around. She was summoning wrong dreams left and right. What
was her name? Shemillah, I think it was.”

“Wait, what?”

The conductor pulled on a cord, and the
train whistle screamed. Jason covered his ears. The conductor spoke into a
small black in a metal holster on the wall.

“Passengers, we’ll be arriving at Visonia
in ten minutes. Please be ready to disembark in five. Thank you and welcome to
Visonia!”

***

E
waited for Jason
at the bottom of the platform. Jason didn’t notice her until the dull edge of
her sword was pressed against his nose. Despite her eyes being covered, Jason
could tell by the flat line of her mouth that E was pissed. Royally.

“Good to see you again,” she said. “I’ve
been waiting for you, Jason.”

“I’m honored. Now, please, put your sword
down.”

“First, you’ll make me a promise.” But she
lowered her sword anyway. “Never frighten the Queen again. She locked herself
away in her room because of you.”

Jason couldn’t believe it. Why would
anyone waste any amount of time worrying about what he did? Then again, hadn’t
Darlene and Len worried? His father had been concerned enough to leave Jason a
final message.

“I’m sorry. I promise not to do anything
like that again. I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

E
stood there,
staring at him. At least, Jason thought she might be staring at him. She
sheathed her sword, turned her back to him, and walked away; he followed.
Visonia and the castle gates passed in a blur around him. His mind focused on
Queen Gelen. A part of him felt extremely guilty for upsetting the Queen. He
wanted to make it up to her any way he could. But it had to be fast.

The Queen’s chamber lay hidden in the
deepest part of the castle. Much like the secret part of Silver Moon Grocery,
you had to navigate it just the right way, or you’d somehow end up back at the
castle’s gate. The final door opened up into a long, sparkling hallway. A
multi-colored carpet lined the hall floor. Hung on the walls were paintings in
shades that oscillated between white and black. As Jason blinked, each picture
seemed to change size or switch places with another nearby. At the end of the
hall stood a small door. It was nothing special, just a wooden door with a
brass handle. Jason felt floored by the simplicity of it. It made him wonder
what lay beyond. A magnificent, loft-style apartment? A royal chamber that
looked like a luxury hotel room, complete with hot tub and widescreen
television? As it turned out, none of these things.

E
opened the door
and led Jason into what looked like a simple wooden cabin. A small rug lay
center of the room. Opposite of the door was a hearth with a burning fire. To
the right was a bookshelf and opposite of that, a queen-size bed. Next to the
fireplace stood a pair of chairs, their backs facing the door. Queen Gelen rose
from one of these chairs and turned. She dropped the book she was holding. Her
hair was a tangle and wild tufts. Her face was red and puffy.

“You’ve come back,” she said.

She rushed forward, wrapping her arms
tightly about Jason’s neck. The touch was firm but soft against him. It
reminded him of Tara, of the first day he saw her without her shirt on, without
her bra on. Gelen buried her face in the crook of his neck. Slowly, he reached
up and around, patting her on the back. He had no idea what was happening: He
felt warm and right. He felt like he belonged. But that didn’t change the fact
Len was in danger. A demonic Dream Caller was on the loose.

He pulled away from the Queen, who stared
up at him. Before he could say anything, she pulled him toward her. When their
lips met, electricity surged through Jason’s face, skating along his skull and
then cascading down his back, all the way into his tailbone.

He kissed her back. His hands ran along
her sides, down to her hips, then swept up her back, all the way to her
shoulder blades. Despite their clothes, it felt as though nothing was between
them. Just flesh on flesh. Soul on soul. When they pulled apart, Jason opened
his eyes, and looked into Gelen’s. She smiled. Her eyes sparkled. For the first
time since Jason had met her, the Queen of Dreams looked happy.

“You’re home, my love.”

“Yes,” said Jason. Then he shook his head.
“Wait…wait, we just met.”

The luster of Gelen’s smile and the
sparkle in her eyes dimmed. Everything about her seemed to slouch, to lose that
naturally refined poise of a Queen. True and utter devastation. Disappointment.
“But, dear. You’ve returned,” she said. “I know you have probably forgotten
some things, but you are saying my kiss did nothing for you?”

Jason rubbed his head. “It…did do
something. I’m not sure what, though. And why are you calling me ‘dear?’ You
make it sound like we’ve been...”

Once the realization dawned on him, Jason
disentangled himself from Gelen’s embrace, and stepped back. “No, no. You can’t
think...Impossible. Fucking impossible.”

E
stepped beside
him, hand on her sword. “I suggest you’d better sit down, Jason McKinney.
You’ve got quite the story to listen to.”

But Jason didn’t want to sit. There was
only so much time before Len was executed. “Listen, I need your help.” Jason
ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. But I’m not your missing king. I’m
anything but a king.”

E gripped Jason around his forearm, but
the Queen held up a hand.
E
let go, and Gelen’s hand
slowly drifted down to her side. Jason clapped gazes with her, and they stood
there for what seemed like half an hour, staring. Up-close, Jason couldn’t deny
the uncanny similarity between Gelen and Tara. Something in that observation
made his head hurt.

“I’m not your king,” he said under his
breath.

“But the conductor has told me that you
summoned the train. Only the King can do that.”

“And I’m saying it’s impossible.”

Gelen stomped one foot. “You
are
the King of Dreams! What do I have to do to prove it?”

“I’ve seen the King of Dreams. And he
looks nothing like me.”

Gelen narrowed her eyes. “Where?”

Jason shifted in his spot. “Not in person.
I’m not even sure it was him. But, I think I saw a vision of him. He was
leaving from Shemillah’s prison.”

“The mansion inside Talshe.”

“Wait, you know?”

She nodded, looking off toward the fireplace.
“The King formed a pact with Shemillah’s father a long, long time ago.
Shemillah was the first—and last—to receive the Caller ability through formal
training. Then she turned rogue. The King decided he couldn’t have someone as
dangerous as her polluting both Dreamrealm and Caindom with terrible
nightmares. He went after her, taking his guards and one of my own. He defeated
her. At least, I had thought so. But between Shemillah’s defeat and her
imprisonment, my king disappeared. Along with my fourth guard, S.”

“Did the King have help? Besides the
guards?”

“Another Dream Caller. The one who was
child of Shemillah’s host. She helped the King defeat Shemillah and capture
her. Other than that...”

“Wait. Hold on a moment. What do you mean
Shemillah’s host?”

“The Dream Caller wanted immortality. But
no dream could grant her that. So she jumped from body to body. Usually the
body of her offspring. Your grandmother was the last host. Her daughter, your
mother, was married to the apprentice of the original Dream Caller.”

“My father was the Guardian’s apprentice.”

Gelen perched her brow. “The Guardian? A
curious name. But I do believe the original Dream Caller is so old that he has
forgotten his birth name. And I think the King did mention something about a guardian.”

Jason’s heart leapt, and he shook his
head. Instead of answers, question upon question continued to crop up. “There
must be a weakness. Some way the King had intended to defeat Shemillah.”

“Shemillah’s not the problem. It’s the
nightmare
inside
her. That was what the King had been plotting for years
to defeat.”

“Nightmare?”

“The
original
nightmare, the one
that gave birth to all the nightmares ever to exist. It takes the form of a
story, as most dreams do. And if the nightmare reaches its end...well...” Gelen
threw up her hands. “It matters not, Jason. It bears no importance on the fact
that you. Are. The. King.”

Jason felt like he should disagree, but
saw that there would be none of that. He moved past Gelen and plopped down on
the bed. He stared at the fire. Just a few feet in front of the fire lay the
book Gelen had been reading. He picked it up, and nostalgia panged in his
chest. He gripped the book’s edges with both hands as he stared at the cover.

“Your journal,” said Queen Gelen. “A
favorite of mine. My king oh-so loved to write down stories and relate them to
me on my whim. His voice just carried you away. As though you were right there,
in the middle of the action.” She slipped in beside him, her arms looping
around his waist. Her breath steamed across his neck as she spoke: “Would you
read a story to me? Read just one line, and we’ll see whether or not you’re the
king.”

But Jason dropped the book. The Queen
opened her mouth to speak, but Jason heard nothing. He stood up and walked out
of the room. He floated along the corridors of the castle until he came to the
gate. Outside, Visonia had melted into a barren wasteland. Black and purple
mist hovered close to the ground, only a dozen yards from the castle. There,
nightmares sprawled and writhed.

“It was everywhere, when I first came.”

Jason looked over his shoulder, and the
castle was gone. Now the nightmare mist closed in on him, colliding against him
like the Red Sea closing upon the Egyptians. He was swept up in the darkness, in
the torment. All around him the nightmares cackled and howled.

“In the nightmares I wandered. Scared.
They tortured and mocked me. I was alone. All because I had let my desire get
the best of me.”

The purple faded to black. Yellow eyes
glimmered in the sheer umbra of cold hell. Jason wrapped his arms around his
body. He rocked back and forth. There was demonic laughter. Everything smelled
and tasted rotten, deceased.

“But then she found me—the one I’d saved
and damned in one breath. Surely, she must hate me. Why would she ever come
back for me? But Shemillah came. She came and held me. Kissed me. She gave me
hope. And dreams born in hope outshine the darkness of any nightmare. That’s
when the castle was created. That’s when Visonia was born.

“That’s when I, Ole Lukoje, became the
King of Dreams.”