Carnelian- Dreams and Visions Read online

  Leaving the dome down, I ran out of the room. The stone slab instantly snapped back into place behind me, but the hidden door required my discipline to make it invisible again. Then I sped down the hall, slamming into a few walls on the sharp corners, and barely felt the pain. I skidded to a halt by the bed.

  “Watch us.”

  Grendela nodded. She set her feet wide and crossed her arms over her chest, her sickly green eyes intent on us.

  I climbed on the bed and gripped Aishe’s hand, lying beside him. I held Drefeln tightly in a fist on my chest. I closed my eyes. I took deep breaths, calming my mind, my heart, focusing on my goal. His scent surrounded me, his soft hair slid across my cheek. His callused hand scrapped against my palm. The amethyst pendant lay heavy on my chest, doing its own battle with Drefeln. When I felt I had control over myself, I focused on the carnelian.

  “Find him.”

  In an instant, I was flying, far and away from my body, from anything physical. I hoped to the Mother I wasn’t making a horrible mistake.

  ***

  When next I knew anything, I was standing on a hill overlooking flat terrain that stretched endlessly on all sides. I tried to take a moment to orient myself, and that proved impossible in a world formed and controlled solely from imagination and will. I now stood in a valley with mountains rising on all sides of me, dark and forbidding. Then I was on a small spit of land in a wide, blue ocean, the sky black with a red moon. Shuddering, I closed my eyes even as my surroundings continued to change and morph. Colors shifted and blended, shapes contorted, forming and separating. In Dreamworld, there wasn’t magick. My powers were nonexistent here. All I had was my imagination, my focus, and sheer, stubborn will. I didn’t want to lean on Drefeln too much, to give her too great an influence over me. Yet I might not have a choice.

  The phantom sensation of Aishe’s hand in mine grounded me. I smelled him, and the amethyst burned my skin. I also felt Drefeln clutched in my hand, though I couldn’t see it. I stood, seemingly alone, though I knew I wasn’t. Some lost soul or demon might find me, if I stayed in one place too long, if I didn’t take control of my surroundings.

  I focused hard, bringing up images in my mind. I opened my eyes and projected what I wanted onto the morphing landscape. One thing I immediately noticed that was different from the last time I was here: my imagination and will had certainly grown stronger. As I watched, the contorting landscape began to change into what I wanted. The ground solidified into dirt and grass. Trees coalesced out of the odd shapes, tall and broad branches thick with leaves. Muggy air clung to me, and a light wind whistled through the trees, harmonizing with the soft footfalls of deer, the twittering of birds, and the erratic scurrying of smaller creatures running along the branches above. I felt the ancient dance of predator and prey happening just out of eyeshot and thought it beautiful. I looked at the thick canopy above that hindered most of the sunlight from reaching the forest floor.

  The ground was mossy and moist, causing most creatures to sink down several inches with every step. Roots sometimes obstructed the paths, and fallen branches blocked any smooth, forward motion. The trees creaked and swayed restlessly; they knew me and would never harm me.

  I was home. Vorgoroth.

  Dreamworld was an odd place. It was large and malleable. There was no definite shape or size to it. It was endless, it was confined. It was searchable, but not like the real world. There were no straight lines and linear thinking would get you nowhere. I had to search for Aishe, find the most direct path and bring him to me. That was how Master Ulezander found me all those years ago. He’d had one of my hairs and, instead of using spells, he used his will and imagination to find me, to open a sort-of portal to my location. I had to do the same even though I’d never done it before and only knew the theory. I focused on his hand and the amethyst pendant around my neck. I would find him.

  Holding his image and the image of Vorgoroth firm in my mind, I ran down the trails. If I focused hard enough, once I left Vorgoroth, as if I was going to Happy Valley, I would find him.

  As I raced through my forest, I was surprised by the strength of my own imagination. The dream-Vorgoroth looked so real. It felt and smelled real. My confidence grew as I saw the evidence of my strength. I would find Aishe. I had all the tools I needed.

  As I turned a corner in the trail, I stopped short. My stomach clenched in dread. How could this be? I wasn’t actually dreaming, which meant my subconscious had no place here. Yes, it was Dreamworld, but my focus was so great, how could this cursed place be conjured?

  The little farm. My birthplace. My nightmare. Our house, a shack, stood in front of a pitiful farm. Trees bordered one end of the property. The land in front of the house was muddy, untended. It smelled of wet rot. I wrinkled my nose even as my heart beat faster. I narrowed my eyes and tried to make this damn place disappear. It held steady. Why? I tried harder to make it vanish and even with the stone it held steady. What was going on?

  “Little brat! Who said you could step outside the house? Get back inside or I’ll whip you raw!”

  Suddenly I was a child, starving, skin and bone, and clothed in rags. I spun around to find my father, big, burly Lazur Freydsson, stomping up to me. He’d been drinking; I could smell the whiskey despite the distance. He raised his meaty fists, his face carved into a scowl. His dark eyes held nothing except cruelty.

  I ran. Not for the little shack, no, for the forest. The forest was where I would find salvation. Freedom. Power. I didn’t know why but I had to make it to the woods.

  “Come back here!”

  He ran after me. I could hear his harsh breaths, the thunder of his feet. Fear made me run faster. Even as I reached the edge of the forest he caught me, squeezed me. I struggled and kicked out with my feet. I screamed.

  “You’ll pay for that. You’ll pay for trying to escape, you little shit! You belong to me, you hear? You’re mine and you’ll do what I damn tell you to do.”

  He turned us toward the shack as I continued to struggle. He dropped me harshly in front of the porch. I turned around only to be punched in the face. Pain seared through my head, pain I knew well. I cried and curled up into a ball. His large foot kicked my ass and I cried out again. My bowels loosened and warmth spread through my thin trousers. Terror made me tremble, knowledge kept me from pleading. There was no point in begging for mercy. He had none.

  “This’ll learn you, little brat!” He grabbed my collar and lifted me. He shook me violently, and I gripped his arm, the only way I could think of to steady myself. I gritted my teeth against the assault, hating him with everything in me. He brought his face close to mine and forced me to stare into eyes filled with hate and calculation. He exhaled and I coughed at the putrid scent.

  “You’ll do what you’re told, Lazur. Or so help me, I will stake you outside tonight. I hear a storm’s coming. You want me to do that?”

  My empty gut tightened painfully. I shook my head vigorously. He threw me to the ground again, and I landed hard, a whimper escaping me. I heard a noise behind me and turned to see Olyvre step outside. He had a black eye, probably from one of our other brothers.

  I stared at him, something tugging at my mind. No. That wasn’t right. Olyvre... he was an adult now. He... he had a kid. What was her name? It was a little girl. What was her name?

  “Lyli.” My voice was barely more than a croak. The image of my adorable, innocent niece slammed into me harder than my father’s fist ever could.

  Olyvre was an adult. I was an adult. More than that, I was a mage. This was an illusion. A damned illusion!

  I clenched my fingers, ragged nails scrapping the saggy, wooden porch. I bared my teeth in a snarl, and I stared at the child Olyvre remembering him as he pushed me out the door. The night I escaped, he helped me. He told me later, years later, that he wanted something different. He wanted something to change.

  I remembered his words to me then. On the hunt for my father, when I reconnected with him, his words then gave me
strength and hope, even as they baffled and confused me.

  “You always defied him, even as a baby. You were scared, but you fought. I watched our mother break under his brutality. I saw our brothers twisted under his tutelage. I feared I would be next. But then... I watched you. You never broke. You survived. You escaped. That moment I saw you near the door, ready to flee, was the moment I realized everything could be different. Maybe not better, but Mother help me, different.”

  I stared hard at the imaginary, child Olyvre as he began to fade.

  “I saw it as a chance for all of us. And I couldn’t stand it anymore. I couldn’t stand the torment he put you through. It made me sick. So, without knowing what the consequences would be, and not caring, I shoved you outside, locked the door, and ran to my room. I hid under the covers, not sleeping the entire night.”

  I focused hard on his words, on his love, as if I was pushing a boulder up a steep hill using nothing except brute force. The sensation of something in my hand made me remember Drefeln. I felt Aishe’s hand in mine, remembering his calluses. The amethyst pendant around my neck, one I couldn’t see, burned white hot. In a snap, I was an adult mage once more. I stood between my father and the young Olyvre. Lazur stopped, looking confused. I stared at him, at the farm behind him, smelling the familiar scents of my birthplace.

  In memories and dreams I saw it all. Now it was here in front of my face again. I wouldn’t look away.

  “I created you, you ungrateful little maggot! You wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for me and some sorcerer whore! Your mother was the vessel, but I was the true creator. Your creator. And you turned on me. You’re nothing but a mistake. A mistake I will destroy!”

  Lazur’s words during our fight echoed in my mind, which echoed in Dreamworld. I knew, without any doubt, how monstrous he had truly been at that moment. There was nothing inside him except greed and a sick hunger for power. Yet his words still hurt. It was stupid to let them hurt me, but they did. He continued to hurt me. Yet what kind of mage was I if I allowed some cheap fake to hurt me as well?

  The illusion began to crack when I remembered the real Lazur. Nothing could ever imitate him. I now saw the master behind the puppet.

  “Dream demon!” I looked around. “Show yourself, you coward!”

  Dream demons, once they had someone in their grip, could delve into their mind, their memories, and pull out all the bad and terrible ones, twisting them, controlling them. They could drive someone insane if that creature didn’t know it was an illusion, if they couldn’t see the cracks in the mirror. I had more dark memories than most, which gave the demon loads of fodder for the fire. Some dream demons played with a dreamer’s mind before devouring their essence.

  My father and Olyvre vanished. I was alone on the little farm. Though I wasn’t, not really. I was being played with. Rage burned and my magick would usually flash at this point. I had no magick, however. I only had imagination and will.

  “I see through your games!” I said. “Why not face me?”

  The landscape changed, lurched. I stumbled. Drefeln sang louder, and I pushed her voice back. She helped me focus, yes, and maybe I drew a little power from her. But just a bit, just enough to steady me, to help me stay in control. She helped me see through the illusion, and now that I knew a dream demon was playing with me, I needed all the help I could get. How had the demon found me so fast?

  Before I could think of an answer, I realized I was in a room of black. There were no walls, floor, or sky. There was nothing. Not sound or smell. I looked down, feeling something solid under my feet, although I sensed nothing, saw nothing, heard nothing. What was the demon doing now?

  “Is this the best you can do? Teleporting is scarier.”

  Something moved in the darkness. I spun around. As if stepping out from behind a curtain, a pale figure appeared. I frowned and eyed him. He was burly, with shaggy hair, and clothed as a merchant. We stared at each other for a short time before my eyes widened. I remembered him!

  “Mother,” I whispered. Mother’s bosom!

  “Hardly your mother, you monster,” the man said. “I curse your mother for giving you life.”

  My breath backed up in my throat. I knew it was an illusion and yet, to have this man thrust upon me so suddenly.... The dream demon certainly delved deep, ripping up any defenses I had in place. I cursed myself a damned fool. I’d been too rash, too scared, and now I would pay for it. My inexperience would be the death of both me and Aishe. There were precautions to take when traversing Dreamworld, and I had no experience with them, and so hadn’t thought to take them. There were ways to create walls inside the mind, to slow down the demon’s progress into someone’s memories. Drefeln should have helped me with that but I wasn’t leaning on her enough.

  The man standing before me, one whose name I didn’t know, was the first creature I ever killed. After I found my magick, after journeying to Illum, I walked into a pub for food. He’d tried to shove me out. Scared and angry, I unleashed my unruly power and burned him to a crisp. He’d been the first but certainly not the last.

  “I’m sorry,” I said softly.

  His face twisted into an expression of fury. “No, you’re not. But you will be.”

  I sensed others coming closer and spun around. Out of the black came faces I knew, some I immediately recognized, others I vaguely remembered. All of them had died at my hand. They kept coming closer and there was nowhere for me to run or hide. I struggled to remove them, to control the terrain, and nothing came of it. Drefeln sang to me louder and I denied her. No, I wouldn’t lean on her any more.

  What about Aishe? What was happening to him while the demon played with me?

  “Stay away from me!” I held out my hands, trying to stave them off, but they just kept coming, filling the black. Sweat slipped down my face, and my stomach knotted painfully. My heart thundered in my chest, painfully banging against my ribs. Bile rose to my throat, and I fought it down. My guilt and my regret manifested before my eyes. It wasn’t until they spoke that I began to crumble.

  One by one, they reminded me of where and when and how I’d killed them. They told me their names, told me the names of their families. Their voices mixed, singing like the worst song ever played, harmonizing some unknown tune of pain and agony. My ears began to bleed, my body to shake, and it was becoming harder to breathe. I had entered Dreamworld without the protection of my sphere, and Drefeln didn’t want to help me unless I leaned on her completely.

  I slapped my hands over my ears as they circled me, calling me villain, calling me murderer. Then, as their voices rose to an unbearable pitch, the cacophony enough to knock me on my ass, they attacked. I screamed as they ripped at me, bit me, nothing except beasts intent on the kill.

  “Murderer!”

  “Villain!”

  “Destroyer!”

  They scratched me, yanked at my arms, my legs, pulled at my hair, all the while insulting me, screaming my sins back at my face. I struggled and fought with everything in me, and every time I tried to call on my magick, nothing happened. I punched and kicked and bit, yet they just kept coming, an endless supply of victims. By Creations Light, had I killed that many?

  The horde grew, the many bodies becoming one visceral, terrifying beast with pitiless eyes and a gaping maw intent on devouring me. I screamed as it descended upon me, rows of black, serrated teeth determined to rip me apart.

  I deserved this. I know I did.

  Aishe didn’t.

  He didn’t deserve to become lost in Dreamworld. It was only that thought, and that thought alone, which guided my actions. If Aishe hadn’t needed me, I would have let the victims devour me, even knowing it was an illusion. Or was it? Perhaps the spirits of some of my victims had become lost in Dreamworld. Anything was possible.

  I stared the beast straight in the eye and felt the heat from Drefeln sear my palm. I flung my hand at the wide mouth, the carnelian visible for the first time. As I’d done with Atcoatlu months before, I did wit
h Drefeln. I activated her fully.

  Her sweet song filled me and jolted me like a flash of lightning. The black surroundings became Vorgoroth once more and the hideous beast before me, made of my own guilt and past deeds, erupted, exploding into billions of pieces that dissolved before they hit the ground. Gasping for breath, I fell backward and stared at the blue sky through the branches, a sky I created from only memory. I shook in pain for only a moment before Drefeln banished it, healing me instantly. I gasped and sat up, staring at the glowing carnelian in my hand. Gritting my teeth, I stood, eyeing my surroundings. I had the dreamwalking stone and nothing was going to keep me from my goal.

  Yet what was my goal? I frowned, puzzled. What was I here for again? I looked around at dream-Vorgoroth, missing home, missing something. Someone, perhaps? I still shuddered from the aftershocks of the attack and rubbed my forehead.

  Drefeln’s voice rose up on a clear, resounding note. I jerked and I saw all my enemies in my mind’s eye. I saw the Hand, the kingdoms of Cwaylin and Raskalin. I saw all those who looked down upon me, cursed me, insulted me. I could make them pay. They deserved it, right? I would only be defending myself, after all. They weren’t innocents. They were guilty of one crime or another, they just hid such things well. Drefeln agreed, crooning in concert.

  It would be so easy to journey through Dreamworld, to pop into their dreams. I wasn’t restricted as dream demons were, the protective sphere around sleepers wouldn’t keep me out. I could implant thoughts in their minds, make them relive their worst memories. I could implant fake memories, guide them to where I wanted them to go, without them being the wiser. I wouldn’t hurt all of them, simply nudge them where I wanted them to go.