Visioness (30 page)

Adabelle nodded. “I can. But
I’m here to protect you, and I
will
protect you in both this world and
the other if it means I get to keep you safe.”

Rhene’s expression was warm
and loving. “I shouldn’t need to worry at all then,” he said.

Later that day, Rhene
brought Charlotte to the Dreamless Barracks to meet with her sister. He spent
the morning collecting a fresh set of clothes for her, choosing a black skirt
and a yellow shirt. “I like you in yellow,” he said, as he handed her the
shirt. It was a pale lemon-coloured this time around, but it fit and the fabric
was soft. It meant she was presentable when Charlotte arrived.

When they met, Charlotte’s
expression appeared confused for a time. Or rather, she was shocked at the
sight of her sister, in this wrecked and ruined state. With washing, her hair,
however short, had regained some of the lustre it had lost from the dirt and
the weather. Yet it was still an uneven mess, chopped short in some places,
longer strands clumped together in other places. She would have to get that
fixed.

“What happened to you, Adabelle?”
asked Charlotte, shaking her head. Tears welled in her eyes, and then she ran
at Adabelle, embracing her tightly. She sobbed into her arms. “I was so scared
Therron had captured you! I was so very sure of it! But I knew you couldn’t be
when the wanted posters appeared. I knew it! And I was right!”

“I’m safe,” Adabelle
replied. “I just needed to get away for a time, to protect you, and Rhene
here.”

Charlotte nodded, pulling
away from the hug to look her sister up and down.

“I can’t believe it’s you!”
she said.

“And I can’t believe it
either,” she replied. “But it is and we’re here and you’re safe.” Her gaze
moved from her sister to Rhene. “Thank you.”

Rhene simply smiled.

Adabelle and Charlotte sat
on Rhene’s bed, and Charlotte explained the events after the fire at the University.
She explained how they were taken from Town Hall to emergency accommodation.
All classes at the University were naturally put on hold, the teachers informed
that the semester would not resume until an appropriate learning environment
was rebuilt. The University was not short of a coin, but Charlotte had learned
from whispers that there were some issues with the insurance.

“I’m assuming flaming Nhyx
attacks aren’t on the list of things covered,” Charlotte mentioned jokingly.
Adabelle laughed along with her.

From there, she explained
how she had been questioned by Detective Olin, and that Rhene had been caring
for her, and that Professor Berne Oakley had personally taken it upon himself
to make sure Charlotte was cared for.

“He’s not Mrs. Abeth,” Charlotte
said, “but he’s paying for my food and bought me some clothes I can wear. He
got my burns fixed as well.” She lifted up her arm, revealing a path of scarred
skin. “He’s been really good.”

“But why has he been
involved with you?” Adabelle asked. “Mrs. Abeth knew our mother, that’s why she
did what she did. What does Professor Oakley have to do with anything.”

“I don’t know,” Charlotte
said, “but I don’t think we’re in a position to question it. He’s making sure I
have a roof over my head and food in my belly, and that’s plenty for now. After
our bank account was emptied, I went to the Chancellor of the University, and
he passed the message around the faculties and they all pooled money together
to make sure I was safe.” She turned to Adabelle here, looking excited. “They
don’t think you’re guilty of anything, Adabelle. Professor Oakley has seen to
that. They’ve all been educated about Therron and the Nhyxes. They know you’re
innocent, and they will argue it till the bitter end. The police aren’t listening,
but I’m happy that they think you’re innocent.”

“So am I,” Adabelle said.
She felt guilty enough having indirectly caused the fire, let alone that she’d
been blamed.

“Are we going to get our
parent’s money back?” asked Charlotte.

“I hope so,” Adabelle said.
“I mean, our father’s agent—a tall, bald man with green eyes is all I have to
go off—has withdrawn it under our father’s name. Aside from that, I have no
idea where the money’s gone. I’ve taken it upon myself to keep an eye out for
the bald man, though. I’ll begin that tomorrow while I have a spare moment. I
can’t exactly go out wandering the streets, but I might be able to do some
research, though I have no idea where to begin.”

“I’ll help wherever I can,”
Rhene chimed in. He was pulling on his Dreamless uniform now, arms thrusting
through the coat sleeves. “I might not be much help, but Matthon knows an awful
lot about Dreamer history. He might have connections somewhere.”

“I’d really appreciate that,
Rhene,” Adabelle said.

“Looks like things might finally
be looking up for us,” Charlotte said, her tone hopeful.

“Don’t imagine the pot of
gold before the nightmare starts,” Adabelle replied hesitantly, “but yes, I
certainly hope it is myself.”

It was only a short visit
from Charlotte, given that it was dangerous to have her within the Barracks for
too long. It was difficult enough apparently to sneak her in, let alone
sneaking her back out again. Rhene did so successfully, though, returning to
his room an hour later to find Adabelle sitting rather contentedly on his bed
with a book to keep her busy.

“Thank goodness you’re
back,” she said, throwing the hardback tome aside. “I was beginning to think
you weren’t coming. The book was rather boring, really.”

“Well I have to be careful,”
Rhene replied, closing the door behind him. “The Dreamless Barracks are meant
for no one else. Anyone else intrudes and our entire operation could be thrown
out the window.”

Adabelle took his hand. “Thank
you for doing that.”

“You can thank me by
surviving this whole ordeal,” he replied, jokingly.

She laughed. “So long as you
promise to look after Charlotte regardless of what happens to me.”

“I was already doing that
before you returned,” he retorted.

“I know,” she said, “but I
need to be sure she’s in good hands. You are, in truth, the only other person
in the world I’d trust with my sister. You and Professor Berne Oakley, it
seems.”

“Who is this professor? Is
she nice?”

“
He
,” Adabelle
corrected, “and yes, he is. He’s the professor at the University who knows the
most about Dreaming. I don’t think he’s a Dreamer himself—I mean, I’ve never
seen him in the Frequencies—but he knows an awful lot. I know I can trust him.”

“Do you think the Professor
might have some information on this fellow who stole your money? He could be a
good line of inquiry.”

“It’s possible,” Adabelle
replied, “but I doubt it. He’s more a theoretical kind of person. He doesn’t
like to get involved; just study things from a safe distance. I might head down
that track if your leader has no answers for us.” She glanced hopefully at
Rhene. “At the very least, if Berne has no answers, we know he won’t hand me
in. He thinks I’m innocent.”

“And so long as someone
thinks your innocent, we know we’re not entirely lost.”

The thought of innocence
reminded Adabelle of Therron. She had almost forgotten her entire exchange from
the night before, given what had transpired afterwards. He swore to protect
her, should the need arise, but only if she announced her guilt.

She shook her head of the
thought.
That can be my last resort,
she thought.
I cannot let him
win just yet. The second I do that is the second I am forced to release him.

She wondered if when the
time came would she be able to drag him out of the Dream with her, or whether
his theories would be proved wrong and the both of them dragged into Oblivion.
This line of inquisition then led to her pondering the possibilities of
intentionally entering Oblivion. When faced with freeing Therron, or an
eternity of nothing, would she have a choice?

Is that one of those moments
where I have no choice?
she thought.
Can I force my way into Oblivion?
she
wondered. She didn’t consider the matter any further. The amount of stupidity
it would take to forcibly make one’s self suffer Oblivion was too immense for
her to consider.

No,
she corrected herself.
Not
stupidity. Bravery!
Facing eternity, one would have to step forward
bravely. It was a bold person who faced a fate worse than death head on. It
took an even brasher person to then step into it.
Could I do that willingly?
Could I be brave when the moment comes and act without hesitation?
She
imagined there would have been a struggle the second Therron knew her intention.

Would there be a struggle?
she wondered.
Or would
it be instantaneous? Would he know what I intended?

If only she wasn’t a
Sturding. If she were just a regular Dreamer, the rules would break and the
Frequencies would compensate for the loss by deleting their existence.
Permanent end. Oblivion.

Aptly named, really.

Through all these questions,
of one thing she was certain: she was the one who would have to do this. No one
else would suffer on her account. Rhene would offer, but Therron needed his own
flesh and blood. Charlotte was the only other living family member, and she couldn’t
Dream anyway.

Would she be a Sturding,
too, if she could Dream?
she thought. All hypothetical questions. All pointless to
consider in her present situation. For the time being, she dealt only with
facts and knowledge; only then would she be able to solve this problem.

“What is the plan for when
Therron is gone?” asked Rhene.

Lost in her thoughts,
Adabelle didn’t hear him the first time. She had him repeat it, and then she
fell silent as she considered him.

“I don’t think it would be
good luck to plan that far ahead,” Adabelle said, as she realised how realistic
the possibility of Oblivion was. “Who knows what could happen between now and
then.” It was like, in that moment, she made a wordless agreement with herself.
If the moment came, when the choice was Oblivion or freedom for Therron, she
would chose Oblivion. She would make that choice; no one else.

I have to trust in myself to
do this,
she thought.
No one else will suffer because of me.

Adabelle spent most of her
day in Rhene’s room, sneaking out on occasion to use the bathroom. She was
brought more books to keep her company while she sat alone, and Rhene seemed
quite happy to take requests. They weren’t particularly long days for him, but
they were long enough that Adabelle got bored.

He warned her a number of
times to not enter the Dream Frequencies while within the Barracks, as Matthon kept
an eye on that part of the world, and Rhene didn’t want to consider how he’d
react to an intruder in the Barracks. He promised that her patience wouldn’t be
for nothing, as he intended to question Matthon that day.

Sure enough, Rhene returned
from his day’s dealings with some answers he had gathered from Matthon.

“So I was able to piece
together that this bald man is a gentleman named Giles. Mr. Giles Corbine. Not
a very nice man, from the looks of thing. He’s a lawyer, who often represents
criminals. Judging from his background, he knows how to free them, too.”

Adabelle had been hoping for
a more positive result, but answers were answers.

“Anything else?” she asked.

“Well he worked with Therron
in the very early days of his career. He worked out agreements for the land
where the Halls of the Oen’Aerei were to be built. Apparently, he set it forth
originally as a church of some kind. It was defined as a place of worship,
which meant he was exempt from certain taxes and laws that would otherwise
limit his building. I mean, a piece of land on the river front is hardly cheap.
To then build a building with
that
sort of majesty is astounding.”

“Our parents did have quite
a sum of money,” Adabelle said. “I don’t think Charlotte and I would have lived
as comfortably after their death otherwise.”

“True, true,” Rhene replied.
He dipped into his bag, pulling out a stack of papers.

“How did you get all that
without raising any eyebrows?” asked Adabelle.

“I just said I wanted to do
my research on people I would have to look out for when the battle finally
arrived. He was quite happy to hear that.”

Adabelle nodded in
agreement.

“Now once Therron was
charged with a string of murders, Mr. Corbine represented him in court and
despite all evidence to the contrary, he was found innocent. No other enquiry
has been made into the murders or the trial, but somehow he was able to
convince the jury he was innocent.”

“I think I remember some of
that,” Adabelle said, speaking partially to herself, partially to Rhene. “In
fact…yes! I remember his face. I was only very young. Mama was pregnant with
Charlotte. Only just, though. And then father disappeared for a while, and mama
told me we wouldn’t see him again for a very long time.”

“It says here,” Rhene
interjected, “that your mother testified in court against your father. She was
found innocent of any involvement from the beginning. Apparently your father
swore she was innocent. He reassured them all that he wasn’t involved either,
but regardless, he let your mother go.”

He was proud of very few
things,
Adabelle thought, her heart chiming with the pain of the thought.
But he did
love his daughters. And I suppose, at some point, he had to have loved my
mother. At some point.
She paused. The thought sounded alien and
inconceivable, and yet it was fact.

“Then your mother was put in
the care of the University.”

“Wait,” Adabelle
interrupted, “how is it allowed to say that. Surely these are classified court
documents.”

“After so many years,
they’re released,” Rhene said. “That’s how Matthon had so much information. He
seemed to be a rather big collector of information on your family. Your father
especially.”

“Obviously,” Adabelle said.
“My father was the most dangerous Somnetist of the modern age. I don’t doubt
for a second he has a lot of information.”

“From the University, your
mother then disappeared after your father was found innocent. The trial was
quick and over after only a few weeks. A record for the Odilla court in finding
someone innocent of murder. It doesn’t say what happened in these intervening
weeks.”

Adabelle paused. Images came
rushing back to her. Scents and tastes and sights and sounds. A sensory barrage
of memories.

“My father took my mother
away,” she said. “He left me in the care of Mrs. Abeth at the University. He
took my mother, still pregnant, away for a while. I remember her coming
back—her stomach was so much larger! It must have been weeks of her being away!
Months! She said we had to run away for a while. I remember, we stayed
somewhere private. And then Therron came after us again. He chased mother
through the Dreams, and from there I lived at the University.”

It seemed so odd to remember
all this now. She thought  of Mrs. Abeth’s words, on the beauty of the
human mind. She remembered how it could lock away things and release them. At
that moment, she was beginning to understand the beauty of it all.

“My father must have placed
the mind lock on Charlotte’s mind just after birth then.”

“It does say your father was
eventually caught and sealed away by the Oen’Aerei. It continues to speak of
the Oen’Aerei from there. How they became an army for a short time—so they do
have the capacity for war—and how they became a service and a school for
Dreamers who wished to learn.” He looked up from his notes. “Now it’s basically
accepted that anyone who can Dream must enter those halls.”

“Now, now,” Adabelle tutted,
wagging a finger, “that’s now
completely
true, is it? Look at us.”

“Well, Yes,” Rhene said
frankly, “but in our defence, you’re father built that place, and I’m part of
the army that intends to tear it down.”

“He’s not my father,”
Adabelle said, more defensively than she had intended to.

“He is your father. It has
your family tree right here.” He held up a sheet filled with names and lines. A
quick glance at it and she saw all those that had died because of her father.
Nynette. Larraine. Charlotte’s name was there, and while she hadn’t died—
and
won’t die,
she added—she had still been touched by his dark powers.

“No, not any more. A father
loves his daughters and protects them. He doesn’t put mindlocks to hide secrets
or kill close family. He is
not
my father. Not even a little bit.”

Rhene had nothing to say in
response to that. He simply nodded, accepting the answer without question.

“As far as my family history
is concerned, my mother dreamed me up one day and then pulled me from the Dream
and that was the end of it. Same with Charlotte. This man…this
monster
that’s chasing us. He’s not my father. He’s a fiend and a beast and a devil.”

Rhene’s eyes widened with
surprise. She realised now how she spoke with a powerful venom and hatred.

“Remind me to never get on
your bad side,” he said jokingly.

“I don’t think you ever
could.”

Rhene arrived from his
dinner with a worried expression and a glistening sweat. He was puffing, and
exhausted.

“What’s wrong?” Adabelle
asked, rising from the bed. She was hungry, from waiting. Lunch had been half a
pilfered sandwich, and it hadn’t quite satiated her. Yet he arrived with empty
hands.

“The police are in the
dining hall,” he said. “They’re talking to Matthon. I think they’re questioning
Matthon about you right now. I walked past, and he were describing you.”