The Dream Catcher's Daughter (3 page)

The sun’s light dimmed like a candle at
the end of its wax. The shadow ducked into another alley and Darlene said, “I
think that’s a dead end. Can’t run much farther.”

Upon entering the alley, a breeze rustled
Jason’s hair. It wasn’t cool and autumn-y, but stale and warm. It followed a
particular pattern:
hngh
,
huuh
,
hngh
,
huuh
.
In, out, in, out. Jason stopped, turned, then wheeled back around, putting on a
burst of speed to catch up with Darlene. She was about to follow the shadow to
the left when Jason intercepted her, huffing and pointing back behind him.

“Stop...
Gotta
get out...of here...”

“What’s wrong?
Wha’cha
pointing at?” She followed his finger back.

There, at the mouth of the alleyway,
towered Talshe. A plaintive smile spread across her lips. She couldn’t fit
between the buildings, but that didn’t make Jason feel any safer. Green skin
and white teeth flashed in his mind. Talshe raised her hand and waved. Jason’s
stomach dropped out. He yanked on Darlene, ready to hide or run or something,
anything to escape the gray-skinned giantess.

“What
are
you pointing at?” said
Darlene.

“The giant.” And he jabbed his index
finger at Talshe.

“Giant? Jason. They’re
extinct
.
Nothing there, see? Just a bunch of space.”

Talshe chuckled. “She obviously has bad
vision. Recommend an eye doctor, Jason. It’ll be the last thing you do.”

“Darlene,” said Jason.

“Look,” said Darlene, “we both saw the
shadow. The paladins will
want
it captured. Can you think of what
they’ll do if we catch it? They’ll probably give us whatever we want. I could
get my internship. You could…you know…on your birthday.”

“I’m telling you, this is a little more
important.”

“And I’m telling you, forget it. If you
want to sit around and play with your imaginary friend, go right ahead. But I’m
going to catch the shadow.” And Darlene jogged away.

Talshe’s
grin turned smug.
Jason shook his head. “Well, I’m safe here. You’re too big.”

Talshe tilted her head, glancing at the
surrounding buildings. She looked back to Jason, and his neck hair bristled.
“Well,” she said. “We’ll have to change that, won’t we?”

She washed him in a gust of stale breath.
He closed his eyes, coughing a bit. When he opened them again, she had
disappeared from the sky. She no longer towered over the array of abandoned
warehouses and factories. Jason didn’t spot her until he heard her footsteps
only a few feet in front of him.

She now stood inches taller than him,
still gray, almost zombie-like in the shadows. She placed her hands on her
hips.
Her
faced tightened, and she arched her neck
back to stare down her nose at him. “Now. Tell me. Where is my king?”

Running, he called for Darlene. Talshe
wasn’t behind him and Darlene had vanished. Jason hoped the buildings would
continue to surround him. Night was falling and had hidden the brick Jason
tripped over. His hands and left cheek scraped against the pavement. He sat up,
coughed at the dust in his nose and throat, blood trickling down the heels of
his palms and his face.

“I smell your blood,” a voice floated to
him. “I want it inside me.
All
of it.”

He pushed himself up and sprinted away. He
tried to imagine himself as a bullet. But a bullet could only go straight, and
the labyrinth of brick, concrete, and broken glass threw a dead end in his
path. His eyes flickered and scanned his surroundings. To his right a fire
escape hung from the side of a building. It looked old from disuse, but there
was a broken window about halfway up. All he had to do was climb. He gripped
the first rung tightly and shook it a bit. Despite the coat of rust, the ladder
seemed sturdy.

Shattering glass rent the air. Talshe was
down the alley. In her hand she grasped a long strip of metal shaped like a
crowbar. Just left of her was the broken window, gaping like a jagged wound.
She held up the metal; one edge looked extremely sharp and rusty. Talshe
smiled, stuck out her tongue, and ran it across the jagged edge.

“If I can’t swallow you whole, I’ll have
to chop you into fun size bits.”

Jason scrambled up the ladder, the rusty
metal skeleton whining and shaking. By the time Talshe reached the ladder, he’d
put one floor between them. Only two more, and he’d reach the broken window.
He’d escape. The whoosh of air:
hngh
,
huuh
,
hngh
,
huuh
—in,
out, in, out—rushed up the back of his neck. He was halfway up. Only a few feet
from freedom. Never mind the feeling of two large eyes on his neck. Only four
feet now. Three. Two—

Her fingers hooked around him and ripped
him away from the ladder, his already bloodied hands screaming in pain, his
joints throbbing. The world around him blurred for a moment, then settled. When
the stars faded from his vision, Jason could only see
Talshe’s
broad face. She had grown, but only so her shoulders barely passed the roof.
She couldn’t move, and she couldn’t possibly eat Jason at this size. At least,
she couldn’t swallow him whole. Then she smiled, and two rows of pearly-white
teeth glimmered at him. Her nostrils flared and she took a long drag, nearly
sucking him inside her nose. She gasped, stuck his hands in her mouth, and
sucked on them. Jason squirmed and groaned; his hands stung and burned.

She removed his hands with a slick pop,
then held him high above her head. “Now, where is my king? Where is King
Lukoje?”

Jason said nothing. Talshe narrowed her
eyes.

“This is goodbye, then. Pray the chewing
won’t hurt.”

She opened her mouth and her tongue
unfurled to her bottom lip. Warm, rotten-chicken-salad-breath rushed up and
engulfed Jason as he stared at her dangling uvula. He urged himself to
struggle, to kick, to scream. But he froze, just like before. The two fingers
suspending him above her mouth loosened, slowly but surely. There was a smirk
in her eyes. Pleasure. Primal hunger. The pink tongue below him twitched.

She dropped him and he wrenched his eyes
shut.

Music,
he realized.
I hear music.

He smacked not into a slippery tongue but
the stone block of a roof. He struggled to his feet, eyes darting around,
trying to spot the giantess. As the music continued, the impossible dawned upon
him: Talshe had disappeared yet again.

As he stood,
Talshe’s
laughter echoed around him, followed by her voice: “Better run while you can.
I’ll keep chasing you, my sweet flesh pop.”

Jason’s knees trembled as the music faded.
He looked around. It was the music he’d heard at the house on South Hollow
Avenue, where he first encountered Talshe and found that note. He found nothing
here.

The sun had all but set, and Jason decided
to ease down the rickety fire escape and return home. After reaching the
bottom, someone padded toward him. A figure appeared in the alley, in the
darkness. It had to be Darlene. Of
course
she returned after Talshe
disappeared. He dismounted the bottom rung of the ladder, and walked toward
Darlene on wobbly legs. Jason was sure he looked drunk. Maybe he was high. Who
else would imagine a giantess trying to eat him? Her breath—he could still
smell it in the folds of his clothing.

“Hey,” he said, staring at Darlene. “Did
you catch it?
‘Cause
if you didn’t...”

Darlene stopped, and so did Jason.

“Kind of sucks that you ditched me,” he
continued. “I know you want to be a paladin but...Are you even listening to
me?”

“Jason!” It only took a split second: He
looked up, past the Darlene before him, and spotted another Darlene farther
down the alley illuminated by a nearby streetlamp. She was running, waving her
hands out in front of her. “Get out of there! The shadow!”

The creature’s red eyes flashed as it
lunged at Jason, shoving him into the wall. A stench like curdled cheese and
dirt rolled over him and he doubled over, retching all over the alley floor.
The shadow bent down next to him and whispered:

“
you’ll
pay
you’ll pay for your betrayal.”

The remaining light in Jason’s vision
ebbed along with his consciousness. Darkness cradled him, and it said, “Sleep
and forget. Forget and sleep. Sleep and forget...” So he did.

***

“Wake.”

The darkness dissipated, and dim light
filtered in around him. Something warm touched his forehead and Jason jerked
awake. Someone placed their hand on him. He whipped around, eyes unable to
focus. Someone whispered urgently in his ears as he twisted and writhed.
Finally, his ears processed the whispers, and he heard his father’s voice:

“Jason, calm down. Hold still. Please,
son.”

Jason gasped, and everything materialized
before him, as if his brain and eyes had just connected. He was in his room.
The
Megatron
figure sat on his desk. Mr. McKinney
kneeled beside him, his callused hands planted firmly on Jason’s shoulders. The
dim light came from the lamp on Jason’s nightstand.

He leaned into Mr. McKinney, who
graciously accepted his son’s trembling, hyperventilating body. He patted and
rubbed his son’s head as though Jason were still five years old.

“Are you okay?” said Mr. McKinney.
“Darlene brought you home. Said you slipped and fell in an alley, chasing after
a lamia.”

“Dad...”

“No, I don’t want to hear it. It was
reckless. What’s worse is those two punks.”

Jason looked up at his father. “What?”

“Darlene told me. Ronnie and Boone, from
the store...First they mess with the garage’s enchantments, then they send a mannequin
after my son? They’ll definitely be short a paycheck this Friday. And every
Friday afterwards!”

“Mannequin?”

“Oh, sorry. It’s a doll created by magi.
It can be controlled and does whatever its master desires. It only needs
certain material. Like hair or something, and then something to bind it.”

Nodding, Jason sat up. He’d often heard
that he looked just like Mr. McKinney—pale face, strong chin. Even his
prematurely thick facial hair came from his father, who sported a
neatly-trimmed goatee. The glimmer in his blue eyes also passed into Jason,
just not the color blue itself.

Mr. McKinney said, “Your eyes—brown like
your mother’s.”

“Cut it out, Dad.” Jason sat on the edge
of the bed, grasping his knees. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t know
the Guardian would be in your office.”

“Well, you didn’t know about the prank,
either. So we’re even.” Mr. McKinney grinned. “You’re my son. Of course the
store is important, but you come first. Besides, one of the most important
rules—bolded, underlined, italicized—is the enchantment rule. Those
enchantments are put there for a reason. They either keep people out or keep
things in. It’s my fault for keeping the seal in such an easy hiding spot. I
hope they didn’t hurt you.”

“Dad, I’m okay. The...mannequin was a lot
worse. But they didn’t hurt me. Just, you know.”

His father shrugged, looking at the
Megatron
figure on his desk. “So, you dug out the old
Transformers. Any special reason?”

“Trevor...the boy I mentored two years
ago? I said he could borrow it.”

“Ah. I see. That’s nice of you.”

“Well, I don’t play with them anymore.”

Mr. McKinney clapped a hand on his son’s
shoulder, squeezing a bit. “Son, you’re a great kid. Don’t let anyone tell you
different. Um...I wasn’t going to give you a choice, but I know school comes
back from their midterm break tomorrow. If you want, I’ll let you skip until
the weekend. I know school’s been hard since you got back—”

Jason scanned the ceiling. He didn’t know
what he was looking for, but it was something important. So important, he knew
that, as soon as he found it, it’d sweep away the vast awkwardness emanating
from his father. His eyes fell on the desk. The second chair flashed through
his mind. But it didn’t materialize. Not like before, when the chair and the girl
who sat in it appeared before him and nearly turned him to stone.

“Jason?” said Mr. McKinney. “What’s the
matter? Are you having an episode?”

Jason shook his head, rather slowly. “I’m
just tired. That last prank wore me out. Glad I won’t have to deal with them
again.” And he tried to return his father’s smile, hoping the concern would
leave those great big pools of sparkling blue. But he couldn’t smile, so the
concern remained, though it did take a backseat to the enormous, beard-outlined
smile of his father—the smile he knew and loved, the smile that made him feel
safe, despite the Guardian’s looming presence in his mind.

“Well,” said Mr. McKinney, “if you want to
go tomorrow, I won’t stop you. It’s good to see you take initiative.” After
awkwardly rubbing Jason’s shoulder, Mr. McKinney stood and turned off the lamp,
leaving only the moonlight to filter in through the window above Jason’s desk.
Mr. McKinney walked to the door and turned, smiling at his son. “I love you,
Jason. Never forget that.”

He moved to leave, but Jason called out,
“Wait. Dad...I have a question.”

His father turned, his smile shrinking.
“Anything, son.”

His heart raced. His eyes flicked to the
desk. The second chair appeared, but no girl yet filled its seat. Mr. McKinney leaned
against the doorframe, crossing his arms. The smile on his face was one that
usually encouraged new employees at Silver Moon. “You can do it,” he would say.
“Just put your best foot forward.”

Jason wondered if he’d even remember how
to walk after he turned eighteen.

“What is it, Jason?”

The words came out in a rush, and even
Jason didn’t understand the half-mumble half-speed-rap that flopped out of his
mouth. Mr. McKinney scrunched his brow, turning an ear toward his son.

“What’s that? I didn’t quite catch you.”

He repeated himself, just as fast.

“Speak slowly. Get the crap out of your
mouth.” Mr. McKinney smiled at this.

Great,
thought Jason,
he finds this
amusing.
He took a deep breath, trying to remove the chair, Talshe, the
music, the mannequin—everything—from his head. There was only one thing that
mattered. And if it didn’t get said, when would it ever?
Not after my
birthday,
thought Jason.

Another deep breath.

“Will you let the Guardian erase my
memories?”

For a moment, Jason felt as if the room
was stuffed with cotton. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. His lungs burned
and itched, begging for oxygen. His head ached. His eyes swam as he moved them
from the dark corners of his room—away from that important thing he couldn’t
find—and toward his father in the doorway. Mr. McKinney stared at his son as if
Jason had just sworn, and didn’t know whether to be proud or angry, encouraging
or punishing. Jason expected him to turn and leave without a word. Jason wanted
that.

His father moved from the doorframe and
uncrossed his arms. He turned, and Jason sighed, his shoulders slumping.

“The law states,” said Mr. McKinney,
“those who can’t use magic aren’t allowed to remain in our world. They must
have their mind erased, and anyone who interferes will be dealt with swiftly
and without mercy.”

Mr. McKinney disappeared from the door,
his feet thudding down the hallway.

***

Jason didn’t know when he fell asleep, but
he didn’t sleep long. When dawn’s light broke through the window, his alarm
whined. There was no closing his eyes again, so he sat up and cracked his neck,
then shut off his alarm. Ten minutes later, Jason was dressed and plodding
downstairs to the kitchen. He found a note on the table from his father: