Visioness (32 page)

Detective Olin looked
entirely shocked and perhaps even a little cheated.

It took a moment for
Adabelle’s mind to process the events. It took only a moment for it all to fall
into place.

He never wanted me
imprisoned,
she thought.
He never wanted me before the firing squad. He wanted me in his
hands, for him to use as he wishes.
She turned slowly to the bald man with
the glowingly bright green eyes.
And by having this, he’s made it lawfully
binding for me to be in his agent’s hands.

She turned to the back of
the courtroom. Her eyes widened with shock. Rhene was gone, and Charlotte, too.

“I hope she has escaped,”
she whispered.

Detective Olin was quick to
see this, too, though, and called his officers into action. “Get the girl,” he
said.

A herd of police officers
ran from the courtroom.

“Please get away,” she
whispered to herself hopefully. “Just get away from here.”

But Charlotte didn’t.
Adabelle’s hope died as her sister was brought into the courtroom, kicking and
screaming.

“Please, girls, calm down,”
said the judge, his voice deep and commanding. But Charlotte didn’t stop.
Somehow, seeing this reminded Adabelle that they hadn’t lost. Not yet. Not
quite.

Good girl,
thought Adabelle.
We may
be in his hands now, but it doesn’t have to be easy for him.
She couldn’t
help a smile.
Even the slightest sign of defiance might be a help to our
cause. Every moment we make hard for him, is another moment he doesn’t win.

And they still had Rhene. He
could still help them.

She was alive, and she could
fight.

There was still hope.

PART FOUR

In the Hands of the Ghost

Rhene didn’t believe in
failure. There was no choice but success. One either flourished or died.

And yet he had failed, and
he was still alive.

The final moments passed
before him in a sudden, flashing sequence of images. The judge was only just returning
to announce his judgement. At that moment, he had whispered to Charlotte.

“We have to go,” Rhene said.

“But, Adabelle….”

“She’ll be fine,” he
replied. “We have to go. We have to get you to safety. Okay? Be brave.”

She nodded, and then they
approached the door with all the calm they could manage under the
circumstances.

“We find Ms. Blaise
innocent,” said the jury.

Rhene stopped for a moment,
but suddenly understood.

“Run,” he said. “Just run.
I’ll find you.” And together they ran.

But the police caught her
and dragged her away. Rhene could only watch as they took her, kicking and
screaming.

“And now I’m here,” he
whispered.

The Dream around him was
nothing but darkness and shifting cloud. He didn’t have the mental strength to
muster a setting of any kind. He could only sit in the shadows, and wish for an
escape from the pain of his loss.

She’s alive,
he reminded himself. But it
wasn’t enough. She was in her father’s agent’s hands now, and there she would
stay. And he couldn’t do anything.

He could sense her mind in
the distance. It was so very far away now; somewhere across the other side of
the city. But it was blocked off, too, shielded by the dream shackle around he
wrist.

Come on, man,
he thought.
Be strong
for her! All isn’t lost yet. Not so long as there is breath in my lungs and a
beat in my heart. All is not lost.

He spoke those words in his
mind again and again, like a prayer, hoping that someone would hear.

He rose from the floor of
the dream, and began his way—body and mind—towards Adabelle. He didn’t know
what drew him towards her, or what made it so that he could feel her mind, but
he instinctively sensed out her as a compass senses north. He walked from mind
to mind, passing through dreams, a nameless, faceless wanderer. He was lost,
though he knew where he was going.

Though he passed through
hundreds of dreams, he did not take in any of what he saw. Were he to be asked
at the end of it all what people dreamt of, he would pull up nothing, the
entire journey a black blur. He cared not about the journey; what only mattered
was the destination.

He found Adabelle, behind a
wall of black glass, her mind sealed away from his touch. He pressed himself
against that barrier, able to feel that part of her mind that let her dream,
but unable to immerse himself. Like a river frozen in winter, the dreams and
thoughts and imaginings continued beneath the glass, but the surface was still
and unbreakable.

He saw Charlotte’s mind,
too, though the river beneath the ice was silent for her. He could not fathom why—he
assumed it had something to do with the mindlock in place—but it was still.

“Adabelle,” he said. He
didn’t know whether she heard him, but he had to talk. “I’m sorry for failing
you. I hope you can forgive me.”

There was no reply or
movement from Adabelle. At present, she lay on a bed, curled up and deeply
asleep. Were that wall not there, she could enter the dream, and they could
escape. They could retrieve Charlotte together, and together they could escape
this madness.

Yet that wall of black glass
remained, as firm as diamond, as translucent as water.

Raising a fist, Rhene threw
all of his weight against the wall. It didn’t move.

He recoiled, swearing under
his breath. He leaned against the black glass wall and sighed.

“Even just to hear your
voice would be enough for now,” he said, feeling tears come to the surface. He
hadn’t cried in years—he couldn’t remember the last time he had. Not out of
sadness, at least. And not from the kind of sadness he felt now. “Please hear
me.” He drew back and charged at the wall again. Nothing.

Again and again, he threw
his weight against the glass, and it didn’t budge. He wasn’t strong enough. All
the training in the world could not prepare him for this. It simply stood
there, a barrier between their minds, a lock to insure her captivity.

“I don’t care if you can’t
hear me right now,” he said, growling through his sobs. “I don’t care what
Therron has done! I need to say this! I promise, Adabelle! I promise that no
matter what happens, I will find a way to free you. Even if it means my life, I
will get you out of this madness, no matter what. That is a promise.”

One more jab against the
black glass, and he stopped. His first ached, but he paid it no mind.

I promise,
he thought, as he sat before
the barrier and kept watch on her. Eventually, exhausted from the day’s events,
he rose from his position on the ground and walked away from the barrier.

“I will return,” he said.
And then he was gone from that part of the Frequencies.

Rhene was surprised how long
it had taken Matthon to call him to a meeting after initially being caught with
Adabelle in his room. Rhene was of two minds of this meeting. On one hand, it
was a chance to tell Matthon of his fury at his betrayal. He cared about
Adabelle, and it was because of Matthon he was now separated from her. On the
other hand, though, he was terrified as to how the man would react now knowing
he was protecting a Dreamer. Daughter of the most deadly of the Dreamers at
that!

When he met with Matthon,
though, early in the morning in the man’s office, he was surprised to find the
man calm and cordial. He did not speak with any anger, nor with any blame. He
spoke calmly, and perhaps held a slight tint of sadness to his voice.

“I know this may come as a shock,
Rhene,” Matthon said, “but I am truly apologetic for what you have gone
through.”

Surprise. Rhene looked up,
eyes widening slightly—only slightly, though. He hadn’t the energy to waste
enthusiasm on this man.

“I am. I did not realise
there was anything between the two of you, otherwise I would not have contacted
the police.” His tone quickly changed to anger. “I also did not realise they
intended to use Dreamers to capture the girl. I understand their reasoning
behind it, but I think given that they were dealing with the Dreamless, more
appropriate methods might have been concocted.”

Rhene nodded. He wasn’t in
the mood to speak right now.

“That all aside, I am honest.
I do not mean for a second to hurt you. I never set out to hurt you, nor did I
set out to make you suffer, as you are so obviously suffering now.”

Rhene couldn’t contain his
words any longer.

“You do realise what you
have done?” Rhene asked. His voice was like a furnace, anger radiating in
heated waves. “You have put the one person in the world I really care about in
the hands of someone who wants her for his own nefarious deeds. By not
consulting me first, by not using the common sense most others would use, you
have doomed her to a life in the hands of someone who will abuse her.” He shook
his head. “Don’t apologise. You cannot possibly understand the pain you have
put Adabelle through.”

“I will apologise, because I
must,” Matthon said. “You don’t understand how important you are to our war on
the Oen’Aerei!” He jabbed his finger on the wood of the desk, as if hammering
in his words.

“I
don’t care
about
the bloody Oen’Aerei. I don’t care about the battle, or any of that! Not
anymore!”

“No, no, no,” Matthon said,
reaching a hand across the table. He reached for nothing but air, yet he still
grabbed Rhene’s attention. “Don’t you see. I can fix this! I can make this
better! If we can charge on the Oen’Aerei, and attack at the heart of Count
Therron’s power, then we may weaken him just enough for us to get Adabelle
back!”

Rhene brightened at this,
his entire presence changing. His posture snapped straight, his eyes widened,
and the fury with which he pulsed lessened.

“If you continue to help me,
Rhene, in this battle,” Matthon said. “If you can help me bring down the
Oen’Aerei, and Lady Morphier, then together we might be able to stop Therron
and free this Adabelle girl and her sister.”

Adabelle’s words ran through
Rhene’s mind.

I don’t have to pick a side,
he thought.
I don’t have
to fight for a side with whose beliefs I do not agree. I am my own man.
He
glanced quickly at Matthon.
But an army to save Adabelle…that is something I
can agree with. Something I can fight for.

“What do you say, Rhene?”
asked Matthon, extending an open hand. “Are you willing to fight if it means
saving Adabelle.”

“For Adabelle,” Rhene said,
“I would cross to the other side of the world. I will fight, if it means saving
Adabelle.”

The pair shook hands,
Matthon’s grasp tight and vice-like.

“I look forward to fighting
alongside you in the war, when it comes.”

Rhene nodded. “And I look
forward to saving Adabelle.”

Matthon smiled, though Rhene
couldn’t quite understand why.

Each night, before falling
asleep, Rhene made it his mission to find Adabelle and check that she was well.
Despite there being that wall of black glass, firm and dark, yet still somehow translucent,
he felt like simply being near her was enough. He longed to reach out and touch
her, to express that he was there to comfort her. But he could not break
through the Dream, and nor through the mind of the man who had taken them
captive. It appeared he too had chosen to wear the shackles that sealed off
dreams, for fear of having a Sturding take his prisoners to their freedom.

As Rhene rose to leave for
the night, Therron stopped him. The man stood silently, watching Rhene with an
inscrutable gaze. It set Rhene on edge at the silence with which the man moved,
and his ever-present serenity.

“What are you doing here?”
asked Rhene.

Therron observed a moment of
silence before replying. He breathed in deeply, and Rhene could only wonder how
the man could stomach the stench of that cologne.

“I should, perhaps, be
asking you the very same thing. What are you doing near my daughters?”

“You know exactly what I’m
doing near your daughters,” Rhene retorted.

“No, I don’t know what
you’re doing near them. Enlighten me, please.” His smile quickly faded.

Rhene stood tall, hoping his
fear had not snuck through.

“I’m here to make sure they
are safe,” Rhene said. “I’m here to make sure that while they’re in your care,
you will not harm them.”

“I would never dream of
harming my daughters,” Therron said, smiling. “Never in a million years. They
are the one thing I’m truly proud of; it would take quite the act to make me
think otherwise.”

“You have them held captive
against their will,” Rhene argued. “You’ve placed a dream shackle around your
own daughter’s wrist to insure she doesn’t escape. I hardly think that’s
not
harming
them.”

“I am their father, I will
do as I wish.” He folded his hands behind his back. He seemed affected. “I know
for a fact you have never had children yourself.”

“Maybe not today,” Rhene
said, “but one day, maybe. And I will be more of a father than you ever were to
these girls.”

This seemed to strike a
chord within Therron, for his usually calm expression wavered, his anger
bubbling to the surface. It took a while, but the man eventually settled it,
his expression returning to one of unreadable calm. Rhene attempted to take
advantage of this moment, and force himself out of the Dream. If he had to, he
could throw himself out of someone else’s mind and escape through a window. But
something blocked him. He knew intuitively it was Therron.

“You’re not going to escape,
boy,” Therron said. His hands returned from his back, revealing a knife. “Not
tonight.”

Rhene wanted to run away, to
yell and kick all the while, but he had to be brave. He had to be strong.
Adabelle
would be strong now,
he thought.
She is who I have to be.

“And this is why you fail at
being a father,” Rhene said, pointing at the knife. “This is why you will
never
be her father. Not in her mind, and not in Charlotte’s. Never.”

“I am their father by blood
whether they like it or not!” Therron brandished the knife as he spoke, and
held a dreadful calm all the while. “They
are
my daughters, now and
forever!”

“Never have you once been
their father,” Rhene said. “You’ve hunted them, and chased them, and ruined
your youngest daughter’s head with that stupid mindlock! You’ve killed Larraine
and Mrs. Abeth, both of whom were incredibly important to the both of them. And
you’ve never said otherwise, but I can only assume you had some small role in
the madness that has come over Aunt Marie. You’ve just been able to disguise it
as the Buffer Sickness!”