《The DreamWalker Series》


 Rhamant: Book One of the Dreamwalker Series

    Rhamant


    A rising up, an extending over, a vaulting or springing;


    an omen, sign, or token of future events; a figurative expression; a romance.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    _______________________


    As a literary genre of high culture, heroic romance or chivalric romance is a type of prose and verse narrative that was popular in the noble courts of High Medieval and Early Modern Europe.


    _______________________

 0 - Talk to the Mountains

    One hot summer evening at about ten, I found myself stranded at Coleman''s, the grease pit of town. Believe me, it wasn''t my choice to be there. I only ended up there because that''s where I''d been dumped off when my so-called friends decided I wasn''t going to be as fun to mess with after all.


    That''s the story of my life. I do or say whatever it takes to get people to like me, so they use me. When I stopped giving in, they dumped me. This time, quite literally.


    I sat in the stuffy little dining area sipping a quickly melting shake and feeling pathetic. No one else was there, but that''s not surprising. It felt like the old swamp cooler had died about noon the day before. I know I wouldn''t have been there by choice. Unfortunately, I was. So I just sat there in one of the booths, my legs sticking to the vinyl and wondering how I was going to get home.


    I must have really been caught up in my thoughts because I didn''t even notice the woman in black show up. One moment she was just there, looking down at me with strange, violet eyes. I stared at her for a while, idiotically not even realizing she was staring back. She looked strange, and it was a couple of minutes before I figured out why. The woman definitely didn''t look like she belonged in our little town.


    She was dressed from head to toe in black leather biker gear. Despite the fact that the black leather jacket and combat boots didn''t look like they let in any cool air, she seemed totally unaffected by the heat. Her jet black hair was a tousle of shiny locks, instead of a limp dull mess like my own, and her pale skin showed no sign of shininess or sweat. The strangest thing about her though, were those violet eyes. I found myself drawn into her gaze, just staring. I felt like a deer caught in someone''s headlights.


    She put her hand out for me to shake, and I just stared at it too.


    "Hi," she said in a voice that rang with familiarity. I tried placing it, but the only voice I could think of like it was my mother''s. That wasn''t it, though. Her voice didn''t quite grate on my nerves the same way.


    I finally noticed her outstretched hand. Finding no apparent harm in a simple handshake, I took her hand. The moment our hands touched, the feeling of familiarity was overwhelming. One of my nuttier friends told me later that she had cast an enchantment to make me trust her. But like I said, that friend''s a bit out there. The woman was just extremely charismatic, or maybe I''d met someone like her before, though I can''t imagine where.


    "My name''s Ellette." She said with a smile. Even the name seemed vaguely familiar.


    "Oh, um, I''m Jules," I stuttered. She nodded her head, as if thinking the name over and pulled the chair up to the table. My thoughts were flowing like oatmeal, really lumpy oatmeal. All I could do was sit and stare at this bizarre-looking biker chic.


    "Mind if I sit?"


    I shrugged.


    She straddled the chair still smiling, and folded her arms along the backrest. "Soooo, you stuck here or something?" she asked. "You really don''t look like the type to stick around a grease pit like this." I smiled at her use of the name ''grease pit''. It was the same phrase I always used to describe the place. "A kid like you should be out goofing off with your friends."


    My smile died. "My friends dumped me off here." I just about spit the word, friends. She nodded knowingly. We talked a while, and I found myself beginning to almost trust this stranger. It was weird, though. I know that any other time I would have taken off the moment some psycho lady in black leather started staring at me. I''m glad I didn''t, though.


    Meeting Ellette may have been strange, but I''ve never felt so comfortable around another person. She wasn''t a peer or a lecturing adult, in fact, I couldn''t place her age no matter how hard I tried. She was a stranger, so she wasn''t going to run and tell anyone what stupid things I said, and she was the one asking the questions, so it wasn''t like I was out to impress her.


    I began to feel I could tell her anything and she''d listen. It even seemed like she cared. I told her my troubles and hopes, problems, and joys. She asked questions and I answered with more truth than I would have with anyone else. I felt a great weight lift from my shoulders by letting out all the stuff I''d been hiding away.


    "You want to know what I think?" she asked when I was done.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    I shrugged.


    "I think you need to get out and just live."


    "What do you mean? I know how to have fun, if that''s what you''re trying to tell me," I said, cutting her off. That was one of the things my friends knew how to do well, even in our conservative little town. They threw the best parties, played the best pranks, and knew how not to get caught. Half the stuff we pulled wasn''t very legal, but that was part of the fun, the rush. She shook her head, as if reading my thoughts.


    "Not like that. That kind of living is empty. It does nothing for you in here," she said, placing a closed fist over her heart. I stared blankly at her again. What was this strange woman, some kind of biker hippie? I thought, my rash and obstinate young mind instantly retracting as it caught wind of a possible lecture.


    She didn''t lecture, though, only sat and waited for her words to sink in, and they did. Slowly but surely I understood what she meant. My life did seem kind of empty. Empty and petty. My friends had fun, but almost always at someone else''s expense. People like me always got caught in the middle. The dumbest thing about it was that I kept coming back to them. I ran a hand through my damp hair looking Ellette over cautiously.


    "Okay, you wouldn''t have told me something like that unless you had some kind of marvelous and god-like solution in mind."


    She smiled, resettling the collar of her jacket. "No solution, or anything god-like. But I do have something in mind." I raised my eyebrows questioningly. "You ever talk to the mountains?" She asked, her smile turning mischievous. "Apparently not," she said, taking my expression for an answer.


    I just about got up and left right then, but you know that old saying, ''curiosity killed the cat''? They came up with it just to describe me.


    So when she said, "Come on." I followed like a sheep to the slaughter.


    She took me on a long ride into the middle of nowhere on her battered motorcycle. I have no idea where we went. I could see nothing but a blur of moonlight and shadows as we drove through the night, and into the foothills. We stopped at some cliff overlooking a shadow-filled valley. If it had been light, I might have been able to recognize the place, though for some reason I don''t think so. It was like we had totally left all I had ever known far behind. Like I''d stepped into my own episode of the twilight zone.


    Ellette put the bike on its stand and left it running. The only light was that of the headlight.


    "These mountains know more stories than you and I could ever comprehend," she whispered, walking to the edge. In the flickering light, she looked eerie, something more than human.


    With the help of the teen-aged diet of too many horror movies, and my thoughts turned ominous. What if this strange woman was some kind of mass murderer? I wondered, and praying that she wasn''t. Knowing all too well that I was long since lost and would really be up a creek if she pulled a gun. I suppressed the thought with a dubious chuckle.


    "What''s that got to do with me?" I asked.


    She turned to look at me where I was still perched on the back seat of her bike.


    "You are so caught up with being popular and pleasing your friends."


    I rolled my eyes. It sounded like more adult lecture stuff, but once again I found that I had judged too quickly. "You don''t understand that they don''t matter -- you don''t matter."


    Those words caught my attention instantly.


    "Everything they are, that you are, will be gone in just a brief time. But these mountains," she paused to gesture up at the wonders towering all around us. "They''ll still be here," she said, her eyes distant as she gazed back over the shadowy clearing.


    "That just sounds depressing," I sighed, she''d lost me. It sounded like something phenomenal and deep, but way beyond me.


    "It is if you let it." She turned back to me. "What I''m trying to say though, is that you are all you have. Everyone seems to be stuck on trying to please everyone for everyone but themselves. In a blink of an eye, they won''t matter. They''ll all be gone. You can''t depend on others to bring meaning or enjoyment to your life." The intensity in her violet eyes seemed enough to change the world. "I think you''ve already discovered that they''ll just use you. Only you can make your life meaningful."


    I shook my head, pulling my eyes from her unearthly gaze.


    "What does that have to do with talking to the mountains?"


    "They won''t bring meaning into your life, but they''ll listen to all your problems. They''ve heard it all, and don''t mind hearing again. They don''t need anything from you. They don''t judge or ridicule. They won''t use you or let you down, but they love to listen when you need to just let it all out."


    I haven''t seen Ellette since that night. She took me straight home and then just kind of disappeared. The child in me that still believes in fairytales likes to think that she was some kind of guardian angel, come to set my life back on track. The skeptic in me says she was just some strange hippie do-gooder trying to cheer up a pathetic high school kid who was down on her luck. I still can''t say I totally understand what she was trying to tell me, but she did start me thinking.


    I didn''t go out and try to start my life all over again, or even change much. I just started to see things a little differently. I tried to find friends who were actually friends, though I''m not sure I''ve found many as of yet. I get in a little less trouble, and my grades could be worse. The strangest thing, though, is the fact that I actually took her advice.


    Every once in a while I''ll take a drive up to the mountains to sit on the edge of some cliff and talk away. At first, I felt like a complete idiot, but that didn''t last long. I know how weird it sounds, but you know, Ellette was right. Those ancient, towering mountains are the best listeners I''ve ever found.

 1 - I Met You in a Dream

    Five days had passed since she''d been evicted, a month since she''d lost her job. The money in the bank had long run out, and the storage fee on those few precious items she''d not yet pawned would be due within a month. Life didn''t seem to be looking up any time soon. She needed a real job, and none were in sight.


    Carrying her heavy-duty black backpack, wearing worn-out blue jeans, a plain but clean T-shirt, and combat boots, Ellette fit into the crowd well enough. She looked like an average college student until one looked closer. It was then that the wear of hard times, the exhaustion, and struggle became clear. Bags hung dark beneath her large eyes, her jet black hair lank, overgrown, and dirty, and her skin was far too pale despite the heat. She was no college student looking ahead to a successful future. That dream had died long ago.


    Now the only dreams she had were the dreams at night where she''d do things she knew she''d never do, meet people she knew she''d never meet, and live a life she knew she''d never live.


    Bleak reality and the intense heat pressed on her, combined with the lack of food, she''d become rather light-headed. The cement sidewalk seemed to only reflect the sun, and the buildings offered no shade. Cool air wisped out of doors as they opened, but the doors closed quickly, and the bit of arctic wind never reached the sidewalk.


    Summer in Steinberg wasn''t a pleasant time. Any season in Old Town Steinberg wasn''t much better. It seemed to sag with weariness and age. Most of the buildings dated back to a time forgotten, the romantic and stately presence of them faded. It was a place of forgotten people. The people society had forgotten or tried their best to forget. Yet it was on these streets where she was remembered and helped to remember.


    "Ellette? Ellette! Is that you?"


    She turned instinctively towards the sound of her name. She focused on the voice, trying to place the speaker. A tanned-skinned man, not much older than her, or taller, for that matter, rushed towards her.


    The man who had called her stumbled over a bag on the sidewalk in his haste. The man panhandling with his belongings piled around him hardly seemed to notice the hazard he''d created. Yet the young man apologized, slipping the homeless man a few dollars before turning back to Ellette.


    He seemed vaguely familiar, yet she was sure she didn''t know him. He was strikingly handsome; dark eyes and skin, his features strong, a sharp nose, and thick brows; his hair a shaggy mess, curling slightly at the nape of his neck. A memory of the same face, bandaged and bruised, flashed across her mind''s eye. Still, she couldn''t place him.


    "Yes?" she asked, her mask of stubborn confidence flying into place.


    His smile brightened. "I can''t believe I found you!" He moved his hand toward her shoulder to touch her as if to check that she was real but restrained himself.


    "I didn''t realize anyone was looking for me." She tried to sound nonchalant, not wishing to betray her exhaustion in case he was one of the local crazies.


    "You don''t remember me, do you?" he asked, his face falling. He was so sincere, she couldn''t help but wish she could remember him.


    "I do, but I don''t. I can''t think of where I know you from," she replied, hoping he''d jog her memory.


    "My name''s Rand." He paused as she searched her memory. "You helped me out a little over a year ago in Clarenceville." The two names triggered her memory. She began to put the pieces together, but they didn''t fit.


    "It was a dream," she muttered. Panic tremored in her voice. She was sure it was a dream, she even remembered waking up afterward and thinking about it. Yet here he stood, the man from her dream. She''d joked with Dani about how real her dreams were, and about how frightening the one with a man named Rand in it had been.


    She pressed her palms to her eyes and removed them after a moment. Rand was still there, and she wasn''t asleep, but he was a dream. He looked at her questioningly.


    "I like to help people in my dreams. It''s my little escape, my adventure, my way to make a difference. They''re only dreams," she said. Her mind began to whirl as the reality she knew no longer made any sense. " I helped you in a dream. I met you in a dream." Her worn state and lack of food weren''t helping her sudden panic. She didn''t see the cement drawing closer until it was too late for her to put a hand out.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    With a distant sort of amusement the thought, I think I just fainted, fluttered through her mind before everything went black.


    ***


    "How''s your head?"


    Ellette just groaned.


    "Sorry, stupid question. Here, take this."


    She opened her eyes and squinted up at the speaker. It was the man from the street. Rand was his name. She''d saved his life over a year ago, in a dream. She was positive it had been a dream. Her life was never that exciting. This though, this was real. Especially her headache.


    "You passed out and hit your head on some railing. I work as a nurse, and I figured you wouldn''t want to deal with an emergency room or bills, so I brought you to my place. I hope you don''t mind." She stared at him, the same dark eyes of the man she''d met in a dream stared back.


    "You''re not real, you were just a dream," Ellette found herself saying.


    "That''s what you said before you went down."


    "My dreams have always been vivid, and I could always control them, mostly. I always knew I was dreaming. You were a dream, but I''m not dreaming now." The words tumbled out one after another. "If all my dreams have been real, and I just thought I was dreaming..." It only made her headache worse to think of the possibilities. She took the ice-pack that Rand was holding gently to the back of her head.


    "I think you were exhausted by the heat and hit your head," he said kindly.


    Ellette began to shake her head but decided against it as the throbbing pain started anew. "Maybe. I don''t know."


    "Well, you can stay here till your head clears," he offered.


    "Thank you," she managed.


    "Least I could do after what you''ve done for me."


    They sat in silence for a while, Ellette holding her aching head and Rand picking at the fabric of the sofa. She watched him out of the corner of her eye with only one thought in her head: He shouldn''t exist. The silence seemed to be getting to him, so went to the rickety metal bookshelf and retrieved something from the top. He sat in the only chair in the place and opened the long rectangular box. The metal hinges creaked softly, barely audible over the traffic noise from the street below.


    Ellette watched him more attentively, wondering what the box held. He seemed very intent on its contents as if he''d forgotten all about the stranger sitting on his couch. Then he looked up at her. "Mind if I play? If your head hurts too much, I won''t."


    "No, no, it''s fine," she stuttered.


    He removed a finely crafted, though rather plain, wooden flute from the battered old box. He lifted it to his lips and began to play. It was soft, breathy and sweet. The sound of it was foreign, something she imagined belonged in the depths of a desert oasis. Yet, the way he played was unlike anything she''d ever heard. It wasn''t long, though, until the notes began to falter and came to a halt.


    Ellette opened her eyes, which she didn''t remember closing, and stared at her host. He was studying the instrument, running long fingers along the dark wood. Ellette studied his hands, remembering that dream from over a year ago.


    His fingers had been broken, and his hands covered gashes when she had found him. They hadn''t even looked like hands, even after he''d been cleaned and bandaged. Crippled for sure, she remembered the doctors saying.


    He hadn''t cried out in panic or pain while they''d beaten him, nor when Ellette had shot off her gun to scare off the attackers. Nor had he done anything but clench his teeth against the pain when she had cleaned him up or when the paramedics had done their share. But he''d cried when they told him about his hands. Ellette didn''t think much of it later--after all, it had been just a dream.


    The hands that held the instrument were terribly scarred, and the fingers, though long and elegant, were notably malformed.


    "You play wonderfully," she whispered, looking down at her lap, and her own, long pale hands that rested there. She heard him putting the flute away, the sound of the velvet against the wood, the creaking of the small brass hinges, the soft crack of wood against wood, and the final click of the lock. Finally, she met his eyes, knowing that there was more to his story. It was an unspoken need for him to tell, and she to listen.


    "My mother gave me the flute," he began. There was more to that story as well, but he moved on. "Music was the only link I had to home, and my sanity while my life turned to hell. It''s all a blur, I held it together as best I could, but eventually, I couldn''t pay the bills. I should have given up the house. I should have known better. But after what had happened to my family, I wasn''t thinking straight. The guys at the bar, they seemed helpful enough. Until I couldn''t pay.


    I should have died that night, I was already dead until an angel in black with a gun showed up." He smiled at that, and Ellette realized that he was referring to her. "You stood by until they were sure I''d make it. I thought I''d been given another chance until they told me about my hands..." His words drifted off, and he lightly caressed the old wooden box that held his flute.


    "I was sure I''d been given another chance when you spoke to me. I remember you saying: ''Life may seem bleak at times, but you are still here. You are meant to live the life you''ve been given. It will get better.'' I didn''t forget." He got up and put the flute back on the shelf. Silence hung in the air once more.


    Ellette fingered the bump on the back of her head, wishing her mind wasn''t so muddled. Despite her sluggish thoughts, she realized how much she''d needed to hear those words again. One of her foster parents had told her something along those same lines years ago.


    "Would you mind if I stayed awhile?" she asked softly. Dream or not, there was a reason they''d met up again. Something bigger than both of them had its hand in their meeting. She was one to believe in fate. "I think I''m the one who needs rescuing, this time." She smiled wanly.


    He laughed. "How long is a while?"


    She shrugged. "However long you''ll have me. I''ve got nowhere else to go."

 2.1 - Finding Respite

    Leaning against the railing of the third story balcony, Ellette looked over her view of old town Steinberg. Leeson Avenue roared below with late evening traffic and the people who made up the nightlife were just beginning to gather in the rundown Leeson Avenue Park. It was not exactly a heartening view, through the smog, noise, and heat that seemed to hang in the air, but Ellette had grown used to, almost fond of it.


    The traffic noise died down as the night progressed. Music from cheap radios, shouts, arguments, and occasional laughter of the street people, bums, drunks were beginning to drift up from below. She had lived in their world once, and it still was a part of her, though now she could never imagine going back. She sighed and turned away, cutting short the shout of a drunken wino as she closed the sliding door. She leaned back against the door and looked up at the cracking ceiling. Still, the muffled sounds threatened to breach her sanity.


    She went to the stereo and found a cassette. After a couple of failed attempts, she convinced the fossil to play. Soft and airy music of flutes filled the small apartment quite adequately covering the sounds she''d wanted to drown out. Only the occasional clatter of dishes as her roommate worked wonders in the kitchen interrupted the sweet music.


    She padded softly on bare feet to the entrance of the tiny kitchen to watch Rand as he slaved over another one of his interesting concoctions. He stood over the stove barefooted, in worn blue jeans, faded tee-shirt with the logo of a band no one but he had ever heard of printed on the front. His dark hair hung to his shoulders, long in need of a trim in Ellette''s opinion, and his fingers twitched as if fingering the tunes of an imaginary flute. The fluttering of his fingers drew her attention once again to the not so old scars that ran from his fingers all the way up his arms. Despite their unspoken agreement to avoid discussion about the past she could not help but wonder what he could ever possibly have done to aggravate such a brutal attack.


    "I assume you have inhaled enough smog for one day?" Rand asked, breaking her sullen thoughts.


    "Hhhmmm." She hadn''t realized he''d heard her come into the kitchen, but he always seemed to notice little things like that. Perhaps he''d noticed something he shouldn''t have once... She put the thought dutifully aside and pulled a stool up to the counter that served as a table for the two of them.


    He glanced at her briefly, trying to read her mood. "How''s the job?" he asked, stilling his hands from their almost involuntary animation and wiping them on his pants.


    "Money in the bank," she said half-heartedly, watching him massage his scarred fingers. She sighed and rested her chin on her folded arms.


    "That bad?"


    She smiled faintly at him. "No. I''m glad to be working." She ran a hand through her cropped, jet-black hair, fingering out a knot at the base of her neck.


    "Why so melancholy then?" he asked.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    She shook her head, not quite knowing the answer herself. She watched him stir the contents of the pot for a while before answering.


    "Watching the street life always seems to have that kind of effect on me."


    He nodded knowingly, or else in rhythm to the music.


    "Sometimes it feels like those people down there, the ones the rest of the city have forgotten are the only ones who really know--" She paused, trying to express herself clearly. "Like they''re the only ones who know that there is something more. Some kind of underlying current to life, and only through what society doesn''t understand, that is rejected and seen as insanity, are they in touch with it." She flung her hands up in exasperation. "I don''t know, something like that."


    Rand laughed, a soft rumbling sound that always seemed to lift the mood. The conversation ended at that, and they moved on to other subjects as the evening wore on. Despite the ease and carefree air, the somber feeling seemed to follow her the rest of the evening.


    Ellette found it nearly impossible to sleep that night; tossing and turning when her normally vivid and lifelike dreams failed to come. She could partially blame that on the fact that she really didn''t want them to. Finally, she sat up on the pull-out couch where she slept, the shadows hanging across the room like dark, gauzy veils, and listened to the night. Somewhere in the distance, a car alarm was sounding, a dull background sound that blended with the chirping of crickets. Closer was the soft rumble of the occasional car and the buzz of the neon lights.


    Bits of conversations and laughter drifted through the walls from the apartments around her as well as from the street below. In his room, she could hear Rand moving in his sleep and the soft rhythm of his breathing. Above something thudded and laughter followed the sound. Ellette wrapped her arms around her legs, unable to block out the sounds, but not exactly sure how much she really wanted to. A TV droned next door, and some cats engaged in a duel in the alley.


    She got up, the cot springs voicing their protest, and stared at the apartment around her, transformed by the night. The shadows seemed to pull at her, rousing childhood fears and nightmares in their depths. Warily she moved through the shadow-filled room to the sliding door of the small balcony. The scraping sound of the door as she slid it open seemed to echo through her head, a sound that didn''t fit in the dream-like setting. She stepped outside, the heavy night air pressing around her. She stared out at the once man-made world of Old Town. Her heart fluttered in her chest, like a bird trying to escape. She longed for something, something more. The wilds of the night and this ancient part of the city reclaimed by wilderness held that something.


    "Ellette?" Rand''s inquiring voice shattered the tranquility. She turned slowly as if the air had thickened to a restrictive gel. He stood in the dark room, his face eerily obscured by shadows. A cool wind rose up behind her, causing the hair on her arms to rise and the curtain she could not remember being there before, to flutter. She opened her mouth to explain that she just couldn''t sleep, but it just fell open once Rand stepped into the light.


    She failed to hold back her cry of horror and despair as she saw all his scars once again open and oozing, his fingers broken and disfigured. His face was bloodied and bruised, just as it had been that night long ago when he''d been attacked. Only this time there was no life left in his eyes, they stared lifelessly past her, and she backed away. His body like a puppet on strings, limp and inanimate, yet still moving, imitating life.


    She knew there was nothing she could do for him this time. She felt hot tears of both grief and terror burning trails down her cheeks and backed away once more. The balcony railing stopped short her retreat. She glanced briefly at the street below and the world began to shake. The creature that had once been Rand called her name again through his rotting lifeless lips. She screamed again, her heart thumping wildly and tears streaming down her face. "Ellette... Ellette..."

 2.2 - Finding Respite

    "Ellette? Wake up!"


    She slowly opened her eyes to find a concerned, but otherwise normal Rand shaking her awake. She tried to calm her ragged breathing and wiped at her face. The emotions evoked from the dream were still raw, and she couldn''t hold back the tears. She pulled herself into a sitting position and put her face in her hands.


    Rand got up and fetched a box of tissues. "What happened?" he asked, handing her one.


    She wiped her cheeks and shook her head.


    "It was just a dream," she muttered, all too aware that her dreams were rarely just dreams. She took a deep breath, wadding the tissue in her hands.


    "More like a nightmare," he suggested, though he too, knew that her dreams were anything but normal. Ellette nodded and looked at him, half expecting to find his eyes once again empty and dead. She struggled to blink back more unbidden tears. Hesitantly, he put a comforting arm around her shoulders. "You going to be alright?"


    "Yeah," she said hoarsely, her throat still tight. "I just won''t be able to sleep the rest of the night." The initial terror had begun to fade, and she knew she''d be fine once she calmed the flutter of her heart and shaking hands. He squeezed her shoulder and pulled away, but didn''t get up from the edge of the cot.


    In the awkward silence, the night noises once again began to fill the air. Ellette pulled her knees up to her chin and shivered slightly. Rand sat, shoulders hunched, gazing over the shadowy room. A gunshot sounded in the distance and the blare of sirens followed a while later. Rand turned to study her, the poor light betraying each hardship he''d endured through time etched across his face.


    "What was it... what did you dream that was so terrible?" he asked finally.


    She just shook her head. Describing the still too vivid image would bring her to tears again. She didn''t like to cry.


    "It wasn''t so much what I dreamt, it was the frightening realness of it. The fact that I can''t tell the difference between my dreams and reality is disturbing." She stretched her legs out before her. "At least I know this one wasn''t real." On impulse, she reached out and ran a fingertip along a scar tracing his arm.


    He flinched self-consciously.


    "So long as it isn''t real, again."


    Somber understanding filled his dark eyes.


    She sighed and turned to look at the sliding door that led to the balcony. There was no curtain, and it stood shut and locked. For once it had only been a dream.


    "You going to be all right now?" Rand repeated. He hovered, not wanting to overstep his bounds, but not wanting to neglect his duties as a friend. She nodded and he got up. He kissed her lightly on the forehead and went back to his room. She watched him fade into the shadows. Despite her fears, sleep, dreamless this time, overcame her once more.


    ***


    The bus was miserable, smelly and overcrowded. Though it stopped in front of the old apartment buildings from Rand''s, Ellette got off at about two blocks away on the opposite side of Leeson Park. She stood looking down the main path that ran through it. It was the most well-kept area of the park, and the safest.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    Tourists, uptown joggers with their little cans of mace and walkmans, women with children and strollers and probably a little can of mace, and a variety of people with dogs, mace included in a handbag, wandered along the main path and a few of the other more well-patrolled areas through the park. The view from the bus stop, with the bright light of the late afternoon sun, the park looked like a cheery, hospitable place. Once night fell, from her Old Town apartment view, she knew that the scene would be much different. She started along the path.


    Gravel crunched beneath the tread of her boots and leaves fluttered in the breeze. The trees seemed to crouch over the path, creating a canopy overhead. A woman with a child in tow nodded to Ellette as she passed by. Ellette watched her go, realizing that the woman was as young as she, with a three-year-old child. Once again she marveled at how quickly time seemed to pass, how much she seemed to miss, as well as how thankful she was that she had what she had.


    She wandered on, passing the panhandlers and buskers. The shadows were elongating, curving over the land when the shade of the trees didn''t hide their existence. Ellette paused at an intersection in the path to let a biker hum by. A busker with a guitar called to her from the foot of the aging wooden bridge.


    The busker was a tiny woman with a wild mess of auburn curls haloing her head. She was barefooted with corduroy bell-bottoms and a halter-top that revealed much of her fair, freckled, and sun-burnt skin. She sat at the foot of the bridge with an acoustic guitar in her lap and the case lying open before her. A couple of coins lay in the case, glinting brightly in the late afternoon light. Ellette paused for the briefest of moments to take her in and then started off again.


    "Wait!" she called.


    Ellette turned.


    The little woman squinted up at Ellette, and nodded her head. "Some dreams you must have."


    "Dreams?" Ellette asked, caught off guard. "How would you know?"


    "Ah yes. Dreams." The woman gave her guitar a considering strum. "Dreams as real as waking for you."


    Ellette considered the smaller woman, wondering if she was insane, high, or perhaps serious. "Who are you?"


    "Jessie, folks call me." She leapt to her feet. "Though who I am only I know for sure." The woman held her guitar by the neck and thrust the other hand forward for Ellette to shake.


    Ellette took her hand, and for the first time caught a glimpse of Jessie''s perfectly sane, startling green eyes. "My name''s Ellette."


    "Hmmm. Fae woman." Jessie nodded again, her nest of hair bouncing with the movement.


    "What are you talking about?"


    "You''re very fae. If not in blood, in spirit. Even your name says so. You know that, though. You have dreams. Wild, real, frightening dreams." Jessie grinned, flashing a set of perfect, white teeth. "By the way, you should never give your true name," she said grimly. "It holds power, but don''t worry, I won''t tell anyone."


    "How would you know? I mean about the dreams." The woman had definitely caught her attention. She was intrigued, to say the least, though she wished she knew what the word fae meant exactly.


    "It''s obvious in your aura," Jessie answered with a bob of her head. Childlike energy seemed to radiate from her and yet she had a graveness about her. "Yep. Very fey."


    "Can you tell me anything about these dreams, why I have them?"


    "Simple. The answer is within yourself."


    Ellette had begun to lose her patience. She wasn''t so much irritated with her as she was at herself for being drawn in the first place.


    "Oh, sure that helps. Well, Jessie, it was nice meeting you. Lucky guess about the dream thing. Here''s a dollar for your efforts." Ellette tossed the money into the case and started off again.


    "You have dreams where you help people. Many many people," the little woman shouted. "You were once one of the few that remembered, cared, and could help. You have forgotten them. You have betrayed them! Your nightmares are a manifestation of their suffering," the woman rambled, pointing at Ellette''s receding back.


    Ellette wished she hadn''t listened, but she did. She heard every word. The sense they made was frightening, but when turned again, the woman was gone.

 2.3 - Finding Respite

    "I had a strange encounter on my way home today," Ellette said as she plopped down on the worn couch and began unlacing her shoes.


    Rand looked up from his book and reached over to the stereo to turn down the music.


    "I decided to walk through the park on my way, instead of riding that god awful bus the whole way."


    "So that''s why you''re late." Rand dog-eared the page and closed the book.


    "I hate it when you do that, ruins the pages," Ellette muttered. Rand just brushed back a lock of his unruly hair. "You could at least use a bookmark. Anything will do."


    "Who''d you meet in the park, someone else from a dream?" he said, pointedly ignoring her comment. Ellette glared at him and tossed one of her boots at him. He deftly blocked it with the book.


    "No. I didn''t meet someone else from a dream. You''re still the only figment of my imagination come to life."


    He snorted at that.


    "I would have rather had that cute guy from Montana I dreamt about come to life, but I guess you''ll do."


    Now it was his turn to toss the boot.


    She giggled, kicking it away with her other, still booted foot. "Seriously, though," she said, slipping off the other boot. "I had this hippie busker with a guitar stop me and start rambling about me being fae. Whatever that is." She sat back and stretched her long, thin legs. "Then she started on about dreams. That caught my attention until I figured that she was just trying for money. I tossed her a couple of dollars and started to walk off, then she said something about how real my dreams are and how I help people in them, and how I''m like the only help they have. She said that I have betrayed them. Then she said that was why I was having nightmares." Rand''s brow was furrowed in thought after she finished.


    "Is that all she said?" he asked, leaning forward, the book on his lap, his elbows propped on the book, his chin resting his palms.


    "Yeah. I had tried to ignore her, and walk off while she said the last bit. When I turned to ask more, she was gone," Ellette explained.


    "Are you sure this wasn''t just another dream?" Rand asked, his head cocked to the side.


    "Rand!"


    He held his hands up, a grin painting his face. "Sorry, couldn''t help it," he apologized quickly before she found something new to hurl in his direction. "All these strange dreams and your strange encounters are just a little too weird not to make fun of. Really though, I believe you, and I''m very happy it''s not me having to deal with it."


    Ellette sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. She tried to look irritated but came out looking more like a stubborn, gangly, street kid.


    Rand got up to put up his book, ruffling her hair. As he put the novel on the shelf, he pulled down another, thicker, older looking book. "The word fae has to do with magic and fairies," he mused. "Here," he said, handing her the book, "this book talks a little about that type of thing."


    "She said I had fae blood, or at least fae spirit," Ellette said, running her fingers over the inlaid cover of the book.


    "Weird." Rand sat back down in his chair. "You sure she wasn''t just high as a kite and you heard what you wanted to hear?"


    "I know she wasn''t stoned. I know it sounds silly, but her eyes were perfectly sane."


    Rand rolled his eyes.


    Ellette failed to catch the gesture, already thumbing through the book thoughtfully.


    "Tomorrow''s your day off, right?" Rand asked.


    Ellette nodded.


    "Mine too. I think maybe we need to take a nice long walk in the park tomorrow." Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ***


    The scene in the park was much like it had been the evening before, only the light had reversed. They walked the same path, the shadows of early morning crisscrossing the path. Her head down, hands thrust deep into her pockets, Ellette walked a couple of steps ahead of Rand. Her sleep had once again been interrupted by horrifically real dreams, and she was ready for some answers. Though he realized her urgency, Rand couldn''t help but enjoy the morning, flute in hand, ready for whenever Ellette found her answers.


    "Where''s the damn bridge!" A yuppie sitting on the grass reading looked up at Ellette, startled. She scowled at him, daring him to pull out that mace he was reaching for. Rand, catching the exchange, upped his pace and steered Ellette ahead by the elbow.


    "If I had known you were going to act like this, I would have never let you out of your cage," Rand whispered to her.


    She jerked out of his grasp. "Unlike you, I am not a morning person. Also, unlike you, I haven''t been able to sleep for the past week!"


    "You could at least try to be civil. You''re not the only one with problems," he snapped back.


    "You think I don''t know that? I deal with people''s problems every night. I can''t have a dreamless sleep or even a pleasant dream without ending up on some kind of crusade for the needy. These are my dreams! Dreams are the one complete escape, and I can''t dream." She flung her hands in the air and began walking down the path again, Rand trailing after.


    She knew people were staring, but she didn''t care. They lived in the same city she did, they had surely seen a raving lunatic before. "Now I have nightmares. I just wanted to forget everyone else''s problems and enjoy my life since I actually have one." She stopped and sat down on the still faintly dewy grass.


    "It used to be a comfort to go out and save people in my dreams like a superhero or something. It was a comfort to know people were worse off than myself and to know that I was needed somehow, even if I thought the people I saved were imaginary. It was nice to be able to think that if I ever was in that situation that I could be useful." She put her head in her hands and Rand knelt beside her. "Now I just want to be normal."


    "There is no such thing as normal." Rand and Ellette both looked up to find a tiny woman looking down at them, her curly locks ablaze in the sunlight. "Heroes often don''t have a choice. You did, and you can''t back out now."


    Ellette looked up at Jessie, squinting at the sun. "What do you mean I had a choice? I didn''t choose to be insane." Ellette said, brushing a few strands of hair from her forehead.


    "Not to be insane, to help people. Let me put it this way. You tore down a barrier in your mind willingly to escape your own life. That wall can''t be rebuilt. The lives of others will forever touch your own."


    "Who are you?" Rand asked.


    Jessie smiled down at him.


    "You may call me Jessie, though that is not the name the fair folk know me by."


    Rand only blinked, not knowing how to respond.


    "I know what''s going on," Ellette said, glaring at the woman. "You''re a schizo, the voices who talk to you told you come harass me, right? Why me? I don''t need this." To Ellette''s surprise, Jessie laughed.


    "You''re not so far from wrong. Only if I''m schizophrenic, what''s your problem? Normal people can tell the difference between dreams and reality."


    "I don''t know," Ellette whispered, her voice cracking slightly.


    "If this conversation doesn''t turn constructive very soon, I suggest you leave." Rand rumbled. Ellette couldn''t help but feel heartened by his protectiveness.


    "I only want to help, but as you well know, it hurts to heal," Jessie said.


    "What then," Ellette asked, "what do you want me to do? What is it you want to tell me?"


    "You must stop denying who you are. You must accept that your dreams are not dreams."


    "I know they aren''t..."


    "Then stop fighting them! You are a hero of the night. What are dreams to you is reality to others. You cannot be hurt or killed, but you must help."


    "I''m no hero. I would be living on the streets if it wasn''t for Rand," Ellette protested.


    "You were a hero for Rand," Jessie said. The words hit home. She began to turn away, having said what she''d needed to.


    "Wait." Ellette got to her feet. The little wild-haired woman stopped. "Even heroes get a chance to rest, even if only for a night. Do I ever get a rest? All I really wanted was a respite. I can''t work for a living..."


    "Or stay halfway sane," Rand put in. Ellette smiled at him, knowing that he was implying that he''d support her if she couldn''t support herself.


    "If I can''t sleep properly once in a while," she continued.


    "No one can live on thanks alone," Jessie said, her attention once again focused on Ellette. "Respite will come with acceptance. Before you began to deny and fight your dreams, did they come every night and disrupt your life?"


    Ellette couldn''t answer, she couldn''t remember.


    "Only when you wanted to be someone else did they begin to disturb you."


    Ellette sighed and looked down. There was never an easy way out. Rand put his hand on her shoulder.


    "She''s gone," he said.


    "She made it sound so simple. But it''s not," she said with a long sigh. "I don''t know if I know how to go back..."


    "At least you have something to aim for, something to try," he said.


    She nodded. He was right, as she was beginning to find usually was. They stood in silence for a while, watching the world come to life as the morning progressed.

 3.1 - Eclipsing Depths

    The first thing Ellette became aware of was the cold. She was walking, though how long she had been walking, she was unsure. From the ache in her legs, the chill that had penetrated to her bones, she¡¯d been here for some time.


    The wind¡¯s icy fingers pulled at her hair and clawed at her face. Thrusting her hands deep into her pockets, they only seemed to make her thighs colder, rather than warm her frosty digits. Her breath came out in short puffs, ghostlike wisps, and tendrils that curled around her.


    The moon hung before her, a glowing beacon. It had summoned her, she decided. The goddess of the night sky, in her full bloom, had called her out into this dark, hazy night. The hovering lantern was her guide through this eerie, dark world, shrouded in fog. The night air, consumed by a muffling haze, created a surreal sense of nothingness.


    Eventually, she became aware of the sounds of water, rushing, gurgling, splashing. It was faint but grew stronger. She glanced to her right, seeing the river''s glint. The moon¡¯s glow shone across the surface, and she found herself drawn to its light, diffused as it was through the mist hanging between her and the body of rushing water.


    Her feet made the move towards the edge before her mind had, and she slipped on the wet grass. She landed hard. The biting cold, the frozen ground made the impact shatteringly painful. She hadn¡¯t even tried to catch herself, not daring to take her hands from her pockets. With a groan, she climbed stiffly to her feet, shivering as she stared out over the water.


    It was a dark body of black ripples, the moon¡¯s glow a shimmering ribbon softening the obsidian sheen. It would swallow you up if you strayed too close. She shivered at the thought.


    Her teeth began to chatter and she wondered dully what she was doing at the edge of this torrent at this ungodly hour. It was then that she heard a splash, no, a chorus of sounds in the water. Her thoughts were sluggish, and it took a while before her frostbitten mind finally registered what the sound meant. Someone, something, was in the water. She stared out over the surface, fighting to find the source.


    A gurgle, a slipping splish, splash. She edged closer to the current, straining towards the sound. Then she saw it, a body. A boy, no more than fourteen, his face just barely above the surface.


    ¡°Oh my god...¡± No sooner than the words had left her lips, she was trudging into the water. There was no time to lose, and she dove in. The pull of the current was far stronger than she¡¯d anticipated. It wasn¡¯t the current, though, that was her biggest obstacle. It was the numbing, freezing cold that made her limbs leaden. Each stiff, heavy, stroke was a struggle.


    In the dark, despite the suffocating bite of the water, she focused on the boy. If she could reach him, it would all be worth it. The pale outline of his face was rimmed in a halo of moonlight, and hope swelled in her chest. Surely she¡¯d reach him before he slipped beneath the surface. The moon was illuminating him for her.


    Despite her delirious hope, there was no denying the pain, the strife of her swim. Her boots were blocks of cement, her leather jacket, pulling against each stroke. As cold as she¡¯d been on the shore, she¡¯d never considered removing them. Now, she cursed the cumbersome clothes. He was right there, right before her, and she reached out ¡ª or tried to.


    Her body, it wasn¡¯t obeying. Trembling, she struggled to reach her hand out, to grasp his shirt collar. Gasping, she reached and missed. His face slipped under the water. No. No... this wasn¡¯t happening. She tried again, and caught cloth, and pulled. Wearily, she pulled his cold, stiff body to her, holding his head up above water.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    She smiled in triumph and turned to the shore. The shore. Where was the shore? she wondered, squinting the way she¡¯d come. Moon, you brought me to him, no show me the way out, she prayed. Further weighted by his limp form, she began fighting her way against the current, towards the last place she¡¯d known the shore to be. Each movement shot daggers of ice through her muscles, yet she battled on. Her breath was jagged, each gasp of air cut into her lungs. Numb as she was, she had no idea how long it took her to realize she was no longer moving.


    Water slipped into her mouth, and she choked, flailing. No. Not like this. She coughed and sputtered, fighting against the paralyzing cold, and managed another two strokes. The boy, he was pulling her down. She glanced at him, where the arm that was no more than a leaden phantom, clung to his form. He was under the water. His face pale, lips blue.


    Tears escaped her eyes. He was dead, she was almost sure of it. With a choked, labored sob she flailed in the water again. Dead or not, she would get to shore with him. If she could find the shore. She blinked, her mind hazy, her lungs burning.


    Two more gasps of frigid air. Water slipped in her mouth once more. She coughed, and gasped, unable to keep herself afloat. The boy, she forced her head to the side again... only to confirm what she¡¯d suspected. He¡¯d slipped from her frozen fingers. He was gone.


    And so was she.


    The water, she was unable to keep it out of her mouth, her nose, her lungs. Her next breath was nothing but water. It burned, and she choked, sputtering. It was no use now. She blinked, realizing slowly that she was looking up through the surface. It was beautiful, really. The moon shimmered and flickered ¡ª a beacon. No, not a beacon. A last fading glimpse of the world she¡¯d known.


    ***


    ¡°Ellette!¡±


    That voice. She knew that voice. It was the voice of comfort, of home.


    ¡°Oh my god, your lips are blue,¡± he was muttering more to himself than to her. ¡°Ellette!¡±


    She wanted to smile as she imagined his expression. He sounded ¡ª wait. Rand. She was with Rand. She gasped, or tried to. Instead, she choked. Her lungs were still full of water. She sat up, her eyes flying open. The next instant, she was coughing up water, torrents of water, onto the floor.


    ¡°What the hell?¡± She heard him exclaim as he held her upright, patting her back as she vomited up the icy liquid from her aching lungs. Once she¡¯d emptied her lungs and sat gasping for air, he held her, stroked her back, murmuring. The words didn¡¯t matter. Only the warmth, the gesture.


    Tears welled in her eyes. ¡°I lost him,¡± she gasped into his shoulder.


    His hands stilled on her back. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°I lost him,¡± she repeated.


    ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°Him,¡± she choked. Tears were flowing unbidden now, down her cheeks. ¡°The boy, in the water.¡± She coughed.


    Rand patted her back, holding her trembling body. She clung to that warmth, shuddering violently. She¡¯d been there, just seconds ago. Drown, frozen. Dead.


    Now, clinging to Rand, his arms, his warmth cradled her. She was alive. It had been a dream. That was all she needed to bring her into the moment, to leave the horror behind. ¡°You¡¯re okay,¡± he whispered. ¡°It¡¯s okay now.¡±


    She nodded, tears still flowing down her cheeks. She inhaled, realizing it no longer burned to breathe. He stroked her back, the warmth of his hand burning down her icy flesh. She brought her arms up, trembling, to embrace him.


    ¡°Rand,¡± she whispered, her eyes clenched shut, still weak. ¡°Thank you,¡± the words were ragged, faint even to her ears. He held her even tighter.


    ¡°You¡¯re okay.¡± There was a hint of a question in that last utterance.


    She nodded weakly against his shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m okay,¡± she whispered, relishing his warmth. ¡°It was a dream.¡± Though, despite her sluggish thoughts, her fatigue, she knew it was a lie. Dreams were never just dreams. Not for her.

 3.2 - Eclipsing Depths

    Ellette sat shivering on the couch. It was all she''d done for the last few hours. She stared, almost in a trance, at the TV, flipping from newscast to newscast with stiff, still chilled fingers. Rand was pacing in the kitchen on the phone, talking his way out of work. He''d never left her side through the night.


    Their tiny apartment was cold even during the day. He''d worried over her blue-lipped, shivering state until she''d given in. Under any normal circumstances, she would have resisted. The concern, the strain in his voice, coaxed her more than the words themselves.


    At his insistence, she finally slipped into his bed, underneath the electric blanket. There, in that warm cocoon, he rubbed warmth into her fingers and forearms. He stopped, though, hands stilled on her upper arms. There was a pause, a hesitation, and he pulled away and settled back down on his back. She curled against him, resting her forehead, and a now warmed hand on his arm. Her fingers traced a scar before she caught herself, and let out a long sigh. Her thoughts were sluggish, the warmth making her groggy after the intensity of the chill. Beyond exhaustion, she¡¯d fallen asleep in moments.


    She adored Rand. He''d been a godsend, and a best friend when she¡¯d been in dire need. The thought of being so close to him, though... She stopped the train of thought, refusing to let herself entertain the notion. He was simply being a friend, a concerned friend, and they would leave it at that.


    Now, warmed enough to keep him from hovering, she wiped absently at her running nose and flipped channels again.


    There it was. She¡¯d half expected it, but it still made her heart clench to see it, hear it ¡ª the confirmation.


    "A body was found on the east river early this morning. A minor, age twelve, was discovered by a pair of joggers..."


    That was it. A shot of the frost-covered ground, the rushing depths of that disturbingly familiar riverbank... And nothing more. No other information would be released. There would be an investigation, but all signs pointed to suicide.


    She shook her head, angry suddenly as the tears welled in her eyes. Why had it happened? It had been hopeless, there was no way she could have saved him. A cruel joke, a tease, a torment. In that cold, in that current, she''d died trying to save him. What was the point in that?


    What kind of lesson could she learn by watching a boy die, knowing that she''d awaken alive? She choked back a sob and dropped the remote, curling in on herself.


    She''d been like him once. Now she rescued others like him. It was her salvation. It made her whole ¡ª until moments like this. This threatened to undo her entirely. She felt herself sinking, wallowing. She''d been alone once, a desperate and haunted teen. The torment of her youth, she''d managed to push down, to ignore, to kill... yet this... this boy. This experience, this dreamwalk brought it all rushing back.


    There was a hand on her shoulder, warm, firm. "Ellette." His voice was soft, concerned. She came back to herself and stared up at him from her balled up position on the couch.


    "Rand," she choked. "What was the point?" She blinked, straightening. "This wasn''t a nightmare. The newscast confirmed it just moments ago... They found a body," she explained, her voice flat, struggling against the numbing feel of the depression climbing within her.


    Rand settled down next to her, and picked up the remote, flicking off the noisy TV. With a flick, he tossed it into the couch cushions and took her hand. She couldn¡¯t help but stare down at the stark contrast of the alabaster perfection of her own hand, cradled in his dark, disfigured fingers. She took a deep breath. Those hands, the damage done to them, reminded her in no uncertain way, that though she knew of pain, he knew of it in his own way.


    ¡°Perhaps there is no point.¡± His voice was low, consoling. ¡°Sometimes, things just happen.¡± There was so much more behind those words, emotion, things not said. She and Rand had shared the same tiny apartment for some months now, but still, they kept their secrets, the intimate details of their pasts, their scars, to themselves.


    ¡°There was no saving that boy.¡± She sighed, calmed simply by his presence. ¡°Usually, there¡¯s some chance...¡± She sat, shoulders hunched, clinging to warmth from that hand, her solitary link to another person.


    ¡°You have a gift, Ellette.¡± He paused, choosing his words carefully. ¡°But I think you can only do so much.¡± There was a catch in that statement. The words clearly meant something to him as well, more than just a pleasantry to soothe her.


    She looked to him then, finally raising her gaze to his face. His eyes were moist, and her voice caught in her throat. ¡°Rand. What is it?¡±If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    He shook his head, shaking off the emotion, releasing her hand, and moving to stand. ¡°You should rest. The dreams won¡¯t come again for some time, right?¡± His tone was matter of fact. He was only comforting her, that was all. The change of subject settled it. There would be no broaching the subject of his internal struggle.


    She nodded and curled up on the couch. ¡°The moon calls me to walk,¡± she whispered, more to herself than to him. ¡°Not ¡®till tonight, I think,¡± she spoke again, for his ears this time.


    Rand went to the ancient stereo, the familiar chunky click of the old cassette player made her smile. She knew what would follow. The flute music she enjoyed so much filled the room, despite the state of the battered old speakers. If anything, their tendency to sound tinny and off only comforted her further. This was what home sounded like. She drifted off before she¡¯d even realized she¡¯d been exhausted enough to sleep.


    ***


    The moon hung low overhead, mocking her with the comfort of its glow. She was far too frozen to feel comforted. The soft churning, lapping sound of the water was ominous around her. Water. The realization hit her, and she glanced around, wide-eyed. Her breath was growing ragged, but the cold, the biting chill, it didn¡¯t eat down to her bones as quite as quickly as it had before. Maybe she was in too much shock for it too.


    She caught a break in the water¡¯s surface, faint splashing, a few gasping breaths. Someone else was here, there was another in the water. Was she being given a second chance? She glanced up at the moon in silent thanks. Her arms were strong this time, and she made a few solid strokes towards the form in the water. Her brow furrowed as the slowly sinking body came into view. This was no boy. She made a few more fierce strokes, and grabbed at him, pulling him to her.


    She wiped at her eyes, blinking as she stared into that face. ¡°Rand?¡± she whispered.


    No... no, it couldn¡¯t be. He was limp, and inexplicably heavy. She couldn¡¯t keep them above water. The current, the icy bite of the water seemed to hit her suddenly, and water lapped over his uncharacteristically pale face. She snaked her arm under his and around his back, pulling him higher in the water, slapping at his face in a desperate attempt to get him to come around.


    ¡°Come on, Rand. You gotta help me. You¡¯re too heavy,¡± she pleaded.


    The current only seemed to grow. It clutched at their clothes, tugging insistently. She caught a mouthful of water and choked, struggling to keep her head above the surface. He was leaden, dead weight. She gasped and glanced around. The shore. Where was the shore?


    Moon, guide me! she pleaded, looking up to the sky as the water lapped at her cheeks. The clouds had shifted overhead, obscuring the light. She searched the endless churning surface for a break, for a hint of something besides water. With one more deep breath, she pulled him up and began to kick, pull, and stroke with all her might in the direction that looked most promising.


    It wasn¡¯t long before she caught another mouthful of water, and her fierce strokes slowed to a slow, sluggish battle. Glancing to her charge, she cringed to find his face obscured by the rippling fluid that threatened to pull them both to their deaths.


    ¡°No!¡± she cried out in desperation, but no matter how much she strained against the liquid ice, she couldn¡¯t bring him to her. Soon she caught another mouthful of murky water. The water, relatively warm in contrast to the biting night air, slipped over her face.


    She blinked, seeing the moon peek from those thick, dark clouds. The sight was distorted, shimmering from her view beneath the surface. Bubbles drifted up between her and the fading beacon as she released the air from her lungs. Though she would hold her breath as long as she could, she knew that burning, heavy cold liquid would fill her next. She pulled Rand against her, defeated once more. She¡¯d failed ¡­ again.


    * * *


    Ellette¡¯s eyes flew open and she sat up with a gasp. She pulled her knees to her chin and sat wide-eyed, trying to shake the last lingering hints of her terror, the desperate struggle. Twice now, she¡¯d drowned. This time, though, she wasn¡¯t waking from one reality to the next. This time, it really was only a dream. The transition from dream to waking was still jolting, but not painful, not... like it was the night before. She was warm, comfortable even, despite the way she trembled in memory of it.


    The familiar sounds of music piping through battered old speakers and Rand clattering around in the kitchen were comforting. She glanced over the back of the couch, catching sight of his dark form as he unloaded the groceries.


    She shivered one last time and adjusted her robe before slipping her feet into her worn slippers. Still shaky from her disturbingly vivid dream, she knew retreating into herself wouldn¡¯t help. She made her way to the little counter and pulled up a stool, watching Rand put the last few items away.


    ¡°You rest?¡± he asked, back turned to her as he evaluated the contents of the cabinet.


    ¡°Yes and no,¡± she muttered.


    ¡°Dreams?¡± His tone was carefully disinterested.


    ¡°Not that kind...¡± she answered vaguely. ¡°Nothing to worry about,¡± she clarified. ¡°Just restless.¡±


    He turned, a can in hand. His gaze met hers, and she glanced away quickly. He wasn¡¯t buying it. ¡°So. What should I fix?¡± he asked lightly. ¡°Curry? Pasta in a tomato sauce?¡±


    She smiled. ¡°Pasta. I hope you bought some sausage.¡± She rested her chin on her arms which were folded along the counter.


    ¡°Not the Italian kind like you like, just some turkey linguica,¡± he said, reaching back into the pantry. ¡°If you¡¯re still tired, go lay down.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m okay,¡± she replied, not daring to chance the places her sleeping mind would take her. ¡°Let the smell of your cooking bring me back around,¡± she said, not bothering to raise her head. The clatter of the pots and pans, the click of the gas lighting followed by the warmth filling the tiny kitchen soothed her. She sighed, wishing to be nowhere else, thankful he¡¯d stayed home to keep her company.

 3.3 - Eclipsing Depths

    The afternoon passed uneventfully and would have been like any other day in which their time off from work had coincided. It would have been, except for Ellette''s darkened mood. Normally they''d banter. She''d tease him about his eclectic tastes in everything from music to food, and he''d simply shrug it off and explain why she should try this or that. Today though, she was, understandably quiet.


    Even when he''d brought out the squash shaped like ruffled flying saucers, she didn''t bat an eye. No smart assed remark about his obsession with the farm stand down the street and their strange organic wears. He placed the little, off white, pattypan squash, as he''d called them, carefully along the countertop. Once they were in a neat line, he caught her eye before spinning each one so they looked like a bunch of tops carved by blind men. They wobbled and spun for a relatively short time before each one came to a tottering halt.


    She couldn''t help but crack a smile at the awkward little vegetable dance. Rand leaned down on the counter then, to her eye level. "I caught that smile." He said, smugly.


    She laughed and sat up. "Yes, portly, spinning top squash are so very amusing. You''re quite the comedian this afternoon. As lowly as prop comics are, I still give you kudos for the effort."


    He gave her a mock bow before ruffling her short-cropped black hair and going about his business in the kitchen. She stared after him, her mind drifting back to the water that swallowed them both whole. First the boy, then Rand... granted, Rand was alive and well, but did it mean something?


    Even with a full stomach, she found it hard to relax once Rand had shooed her back to the couch. She made an attempt to help with the dishes, as was their routine, but he was having none of it. With the clatter of dishes and the buzzing radio piping out oldies, she worked with a frustrated determination to crochet a scarf. Though she''d likely never wear the thing, she was sure she could find someone who would need the extra warmth it could provide despite all its flaws.


    After a while, Rand settled down beside her on the couch and fiddled with his guitar, working through scales. It was little more than slightly melodic noise to Ellette, yet it set the mood and helped calm her nerves. She found herself drifting again, despite her determination to not sleep. She couldn''t help but fear another repeat performance of the dream in the depths. Between blinks, she was gone before she knew it.


    She was sitting, much like she had been in the waking world, beside Rand. Yet now, the guitar was gone. He sat, cross-legged, hands in his lap. He was still, frighteningly so. She found herself sitting stiffly in response to his tense posture.


    "Rand?" she whispered, for fear of disturbing something.


    He glanced up at her, his dark eyes vacant. He held his hands up, the network of scars that traced from his fingers up his arms began to glow. It was a warm, golden glow, yet despite the comforting golden hue, it seemed to eat at him. She stared in horror as his hands began to dissolve, pulled apart by the golden light.


    With a gasp and a start, she awoke. Rand was there, but real, normal. He stared at her, setting his guitar on the ground beside him. "Ellette, are you okay?"


    She nodded, not trusting her voice.


    He furrowed his brow, giving her a hard look before turning away. He went to the shelf lined with books, retrieving the wooden case on the top shelf. "You''re sure you''re okay?" He asked again, cradling the simple, worn case. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    She nodded again, a sad smile tracing her lips. Once the flute came out, his evening was pretty much over.


    He returned to his place beside her on the couch, case across his knees, and flipped it open. It wasn''t much to look at, this old wooden flute, but it meant the world to Rand. Playing it, though, was a practice in futility. His fingers no longer worked the way they once had, and it pained her to watch him. She''d never seen him play before -- before his hands had been so brutally crippled. She still caught glimpses of the skill his hands had once possessed.


    The passion, that was undeniable. His love for music shown in so much of what he did; the obscure music shows he frequented, the fact that he knew ever busker on the street between his work and home, and the way his fingers always seemed to twitch to the rhythm of a melody only he could hear.


    He put the flute to his lips, and the first flitting notes were pure heaven. Ellette sighed despite herself, enchanted. She listened, fighting back the images from the dream just moments before. His fingers danced across the long wooden flute, and she watched mesmerized until the notes began to falter and slow. She could never really tell if there was a notable improvement in the amount of time in which he could play before his hands would stiffen and cramp.


    He stopped and sat staring at the flute. A Nay, he had told her it was called. He retrieved the case, settling the instrument in it with quick efficiency before returning it to the shelf. He stood, stiff and white-knuckled for a moment before turning back to where Ellette sat on the couch. A slightly forced, bittersweet smile traced his features.


    "Longer each time." He told her. The slightest hint of a tremor in his voice let on the doubt about that statement, but it needed to be said. He would fight for that hope, as false as it might be. Each time he would play more nimbly, longer, without hesitation or fault, in his mind if not in reality.


    He sat down lightly beside her, scooping up the remote. She only allowed him to fumbled with it for a few moments before she caught his hand. She scooted closer to him, gently massaging the hand she held. After her day, and this all too somber ritual of his, she had no words of comfort or encouragement for him.


    Night was nearing, and it was likely she would be pulled into another walking dream. She had learned not to fight it, to embrace her gift. If she fought the dreams when they chose to come, she would suffer terrifying nightmares. Now, she had dreamwalked through a living nightmare, only to have two more nightmares. While less traumatic, each stole her peace of mind along with her sleep. The dreamwalk and the actual dreams, all of it, meant something. Exactly what, she was afraid to consider.


    These thoughts and more consumed her as she worked on Rand''s hands. She rubbed her fingertips in a slow circular motion over each scar tissue knotted finger. The silence between grew strained, uncomfortable. "You should," she started, fumbling for words "... see the doctors again."


    He laughed low and softly. "This is the best therapy."


    She paused momentarily, suddenly self-conscious. Her eyes flicked to his face, but his gaze was focused on the shelf and the instrument that rested there.


    "Hmmm..." was her vague reply. She pulled away from him, grabbing for the remote. Flipping through the couple of free channels they picked up on on the bunny ears, she finally settled on an old action flick. The fight scenes were vaguely familiar, but she couldn''t remember if she''d seen it before or if was simply such a generic film she was unable to tell it from the many others she''d watched over the years.


    Rand cleared his throat, and she glanced up at him. "Thank you."


    She shrugged. "Yeah, yeah. Nothing you wouldn''t do for me," she muttered and focused on the TV again. It took an effort to keep from fidgeting as his proximity on the couch seemed to intrude on her attempts to lose herself in the mindlessness of television.


    "Hmph." Was his grumbled response. Despite her dismissive comment, he found her hand and entwined his fingers in hers.


    She took a deep breath resisting the urge to pull away. Instead, she willed herself to relax and draw the strength from this simple gesture of companionship was meant to provide. He had no intention of leaving her side, she realized, as the evening drew on and she began to nod off. No, if she walked tonight, if it went bad, he would be there to console her when she awoke. She smiled, letting herself slip, to sleep, to dream.

 3.4 - Eclipsing Depths

    Awareness came slowly, subtly. She could feel her toes, cold in their boots. Her butt was slightly damp from the cold, solid, ground on which she sat. Her left ear and cheek were particularly icy from the wind tugging at her hair. Strangely enough, her right side was comfortably warm. She moved her fingers. They were oddly constricted, and wrapped in warmth as well... no, she was holding a hand. Realization hit her abruptly.


    ¡°No. No. No...¡± she muttered and turn slowly, hoping she was wrong.


    A solid, male figure sat beside her, his shoulders hunched forward, head hung with his thick mass of hair obscuring his face. It didn¡¯t matter, though. She didn¡¯t need to see the face to know who it was. There was no mistaking that mop of hair.


    She studied that hand that held hers, it was distinctly his. She knew every inch of those scarred, damaged fingers. She gave his hand a firm squeeze before looking around. It was comforting to have him here, despite the fact that he should not be.


    It was an all too familiar setting. The moon¡¯s glow filtered through the thick haze touched the landscape just enough to hint at their surroundings. They sat upon a frost kissed grassy knoll leading down to a black mass of water. That haunting, churning river of icy depths. She sighed, her breath a thick puff swirling out before her as she stared out over the landscape. Why would she be here again? Better yet, why would THEY be here? She wondered, shivering before turning back to Rand¡¯s silent form.


    He was stirring now, coming aware of his surroundings as she had. Watching him made her heart clench. Had she known she was capable of pulling him into the dreamwalk, she would have never taken the risk, never have let him stay by her through the night. His proximity, his concern for her had brought him into an unpredictable situation, and she cursed herself for it.


    This was her duty, her challenge. She had been told she couldn¡¯t die in a dreamwalk. Despite that fact, when she dreamwalked, all she experienced was real. Even if she awoke in her own bed as if it were only a dream, there were effects on the real world. Rand was undeniable proof that what she did in her dreams affected those whose lives she touched. It was proven again to her the previous night and many times before, that the physical effects of her dreamwalk carried on into her waking world.


    Watching her friend awaken beside her on the other side of a dream, she felt a certain amount of sickening dread. She didn¡¯t know how the rules, if there were any, would apply to him. She¡¯d surely pulled him in thanks to their clasped hands. That had been their link. Would he awaken if she wasn¡¯t touching him when the time came? Could he be trapped here, never to awake in his true form, his real body again?


    She had never considered what could happen if she¡¯d gotten stuck in a dreamwalk. Though she¡¯d occasionally had reminders that her dreams were not natural, she¡¯d never worried much over it. She¡¯d always awoken the next morning, safely in her own body. Being disconnected from her body had never been an issue. She shuddered at the thought.


    ¡°Where are we?¡± The faintly raspy words brought her out of her reverie. Rand was calm, as always, dark brown eyes blinking over the scene before him. The misty puffs of his breath joined the fog swirling about them as he spoke.


    She blinked back tears as she watched him take in the dark, mist-filled world they somehow had come to inhabit. He sat up straight, an almost bemused expression on his dark features. ¡°You¡¯re in black leather... head to toe.¡± He observed. ¡°Like the first time we met.¡±


    She glanced down at herself and rolled her eyes. ¡°Yes, for some reason, my teen-aged biker aspirations still hold true in the dream world.¡±


    His eyes widened, ever so slightly at that comment. ¡°We¡¯re in a dream?¡± he asked, his gaze sliding away from her to search out their seemingly surreal surroundings. ¡°It¡¯s a lot colder than I would have imagined,¡± he said, releasing her hand and rubbing his arms.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    She climbed slowly to her feet. ¡°Because it¡¯s not a dream. Well, it is... but where we are is real, and so are we.¡± Surely he, of all people understood the strange dual reality of her dreams.


    He stood as well, staring down at himself, his attire. ¡°Strange,¡± he muttered. ¡°I lost this sweater ages ago...¡± His tone was distinctly somber, and she wondered at the relevance of the clothing.


    ¡°It¡¯s like the Matrix,¡± she said with a smirk, her attempt to lighten the mood. ¡°Residual self-image or something.¡±


    He gave her an incredulous look. ¡°Right,¡± he quipped as he dusted himself off. ¡°And you know this because you often take others with you on these dreamwalks of yours?¡± He chuckled, but the sound died in his throat as he caught her stricken look.


    ¡°Rand, I¡¯ve never...¡± She said, softly, betraying her anxiety. Her stomach twisted and she continued, her voice strained. ¡°I don¡¯t know what will happen to you here.¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll wake up. Like you do.¡± He stretched his shoulders, and caught her hand again, tugging her towards the river. ¡°Let¡¯s find out why we are here.¡± He urged, looking out over the churning waters, expectant.


    She didn¡¯t budge, only shook her head. ¡°No,¡± her voice was faint. ¡°Not the water again...¡± Her chest tightened, making it hard to breathe, as the images from her daydreams washed over her. She couldn¡¯t lose him. Not now, not for real.


    He glanced up at her, where she stood uphill from him. ¡°There¡¯s a reason, right?¡± He glanced back out over the water. Something was going on behind his dark eyes, a reason for this conviction of his. She dreaded what he was pushing them towards, his clear determination to play out this dream. ¡°Maybe this is your chance to save that boy.¡±


    She shivered, shaking her head. ¡°He¡¯s dead,¡± she whispered.


    It was his turn to look stricken. ¡°What if you were given a second chance?¡± he tried again, his voice catching slightly. He turned abruptly, making his way towards the river. Ellette let out a protesting squeak, and ran to his side, grabbing his arm. If she couldn¡¯t stop him, at least she could go with him.


    Her heart was thundering painfully in her chest, the anxiety, the anticipation, overwhelming. ¡°Rand,¡± she choked out, ¡°he¡¯s dead. I saw it on the news. This isn¡¯t time trav-- ¡± her words were cut short by the all too familiar sound of splashing in the water before them. There he was. That fragile boy, struggling against the current.


    Rand shot her an ¡®I told you so¡¯ look and began pulling off his sweater. He tossed it to her and began kicking off his shoes.


    ¡°You can¡¯t do this!¡± She pleaded, holding his sweater to her chest, thick and warm. Her hands began to tremble at the thought of it being the last piece of him she might hold. ¡°Please, Rand, I can¡¯t do this again!¡± Her voice felt tight, raw in her throat as the terror took hold. It was one thing for her to risk her life, but now... now that she¡¯d tried and failed time and time again. She couldn¡¯t bear the thought.


    He glanced back out at the water one more time before pulling off his jeans as well, already beginning to shiver in the frosty night air. ¡°I have to do this.¡± He told her, not meeting her eye.


    Steam rose from the bare flesh of his arms and torso, and she grit her teeth, remembering the freezing bite of that water.


    ¡°You said the dreams happen for a reason, right? I¡¯m here for a reason.¡± He tossed her the jeans as well, and their eyes met briefly as he stood before her, shivering, clad in only boxer shorts. Her eyes already filling with tears, his were hard, strangely possessed and determined.


    Ellette stood, stunned, holding a small pile of clothing as he tromped into the water. Warm trails trickled down her cheeks as she watched him, helpless, frozen. With a shake of her head, she dropped the small pile of clothing and began working her boots off.


    Why hadn¡¯t she thought of that before? Taking off heavy clothing before diving into the black, churning depths. She kept an eye on Rand as he waded deeper, finally diving in and stroking forcefully to the small figure of the boy.


    She smiled sadly, realizing how much stronger of a swimmer he was than she. Maybe he would make it. He could succeed where she¡¯d failed. Still, she kicked her boots off, and pulled her pants off, making her way to the water¡¯s edge. She left her jacket on, dreading giving up that last bit of warmth. This last source of comfort she would discard very last. At the very least, she would help pull them to shore. At the most, she would go in after them, and if Rand were to fail...


    She would fail with him.

 3.5 - Eclipsing Depths

    The moon shone down, illuminating the water. Its dim rays glistened on Rand¡¯s shoulders, though his dark, mop of hair was somehow still dry. It was a relief to know that he had yet to succumb to the cold, and the current hadn''t managed to pull him under. The further out he got, the more she struggled to see what was happening in those dark depths as she stood shivering at the river¡¯s edge.


    She held her jacket across her shoulders, clinging to the last vestiges of warmth. He had the boy by now, this she was sure. He¡¯d turned back to her, and she could see the glint of determination in his features. As long he kept his head above water she felt it was best not to join him, to save her energy, her warmth for when he might really need her.


    ¡°Come on Rand!¡± she cried as he seemed to falter, the water splashing up into his face. Please, oh, please make it safely to shore. She glanced up at the moon, for the first time taking in that ominous beacon lighting this venture. No, not simply lighting them. The moon, she¡¯d brought them here.


    The moon always shone down on her dreamwalks. It was the glowing goddess of the night that would summon her to walk through her dreams into the lives of those who needed her. Though as much as the wayward souls she often rescued by simply being placed in the right place at the right time, needed her, she needed them as well. The act of rescuing those in need gave her purpose, but more than that... it had given her Rand.


    Rand, who was beginning to struggle once more. His strokes were slowing. She knew that feeling, the leaden limbs, all too well. The way the cold made her body freeze up, and eventually stop. He''d halted in his faltering progression, the water lapping at his face. He pulled at the boy, struggling to keep his face above water as well.


    "RAND!" Ellette screamed, "don''t you dare stop!" She could wait no longer, she pulled loose her jacket and flung it towards their pile of clothing on the shore. He sputtered, a spray of water sparkling in the moonlight as he searched out the source of her voice. "Don''t stop!" she screamed once more, leaping into the water, the cold biting into her immediately. She gasped, her heart thundering in her chest. Adrenaline was her only hope, and she prayed it would give her the strength to do what was needed.


    She gulped, barely keeping her head above water, and cried out again. "Come on, come towards my voice," she pleaded. He wasn''t far now, and she fought against the current, her teeth chattering involuntarily. He''d started moving once more, and she was thankful. She wasn''t sure if she could possibly help them at this point. She wasn''t nearly strong enough to pull him, a grown man, as well as the boy to shore.


    As she approached, Rand reached out to her, desperate, barely seeming to register her. "Come on," she choked out, encouragingly. "We''re so close." She paddled closer and pulled that frail, nearly lifeless child to her. "Can you follow me if I take the boy?" She asked, searching his face for some acknowledgment. He nodded faintly and she smiled against the chattering of her teeth. "Let¡¯s go, then." She urged, stroking as fiercely as she could, dragging the boy alongside her. It wasn''t long before she could feel the sandy bottom of the river under her feet. She turned, grinning in triumph, to find Rand trailing behind far behind.


    "DON''T YOU DARE!" she cried out, dragging the boy to the shore as fast as her frozen limbs would allow. "Don''t you dare stop, Rand," she choked, all but throwing the child''s near lifeless form onto the grass. She knew he needed attention, and possibly resuscitation, but she couldn''t leave Rand. She checked him briefly, content to find that he was breathing, still alive. She dove into the water once more, her body protesting. The cold hurt, ached all the way through, and settled in her bones. Yet she forced herself on.


    She caught up to him just as he''d begun to slip under the water. He was solid, heavy... far too heavy. Pulling him to her, slapped his face hard, much harder than she''d done in her dream. His eyes widened, brought around by the pain and he seemed to finally register her wading beside him.


    "Rand, that kid is going to freeze to death on the shore. What would be the point then?" she managed to say through chattering teeth. He nodded and coughed. As he stared at her, awareness returning to him, a fierce light seemed to grow in his eyes. Or was that just the strange reflection of the moon, she wondered, finding it hard to meet his gaze.


    "Where''s the shore?" he choked out, and she nodded in the direction, never releasing her grip on his arm as she began stroking back towards where she knew the shore lay. Even so, her body was freezing up, literally, and she could feel the tears of desperation trickling down her face.


    "Come on," she begged of Rand and to her own, sluggish, stiff limbs. "We can make it," she chattered, a desperate attempt at encouragement to keep moving. The water lapped at her face and she could feel her consciousness slipping. It was so dark, so cold... she just wanted to stop, to give in, to sleep.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    It was then she felt an arm around her, firm around her waist, and a voice in her ear. "You can''t stop now," Rand whispered, and her heart thundered in her chest in response. They would make it out, together. She fought to find her feet, to plant them down on the bottom of the river bed as he pulled her along.


    "Thank you," she muttered, as they clung to one another, finding their staggering way to shore. The air was even colder than the water had been. She grabbed at her jacket, the closest article of clothing, and pulled it around her shoulders. Rand staggered to the pile of clothing and tossed her jeans as he pulled on his own sweater.


    "Work on the boy." He urged, shuddering as he pulled on his jeans. Ellette crawled to the limp form of the child, checking his vitals. By some miracle, he was still breathing. He was pale, his eyes dark pits, his lips blue, yet he was breathing, still alive. She worked on her jeans and began rubbing his icy arms and legs.


    "He''s breathing, but he''s freezing!" She managed to chatter out. "We''ve got to get him somewhere warm." She said, rubbing his arms and body as vigorously as she could. Her hands were clumsy, stiff, and numb. It was doubtful her efforts did much for him, her hands felt no warmer. "Where... Where can we take him?" She exclaimed, panic growing in her once more. She pulled off her jacket, as much as she hated to, and wrapped it around him.


    It seemed so hopeless. She pulled the boy to her, barely managing to get him upright. She was weak. The cold, the terror, had sapped all strength from her. Rand came to her side, kneeling beside them. Without a word, he took the boy from her and staggered to his feet.


    She struggled to her own feet, her arms wrapped tight around her body. Her shirt was shirt plastered to her, seeming only to absorb the frosty air. Rand, though, managed to stumble on, making his way to the walk path up the hill. She trailed after him as best she could.


    There was a light ahead, what was it? It wasn''t the moon... no... was it a building? A vehicle? She tripped, blinking hard as the freezing cold made her body stiff and unresponsive. Rand turned back to her, somehow, miraculously still going strong, determination painting his features. That determination cracked when he caught her weakly stumbling after.


    "Don''t stop!" She cried out, "don''t stop for me." she pleaded, though part of her clenched in fear for him. What if she wasn''t beside him when it came time to wake?


    He nodded, and plodded on, slowly, unfaltering, towards that source of light she couldn''t quite place. Her vision blurred, her limbs unresponsive. She fell hard, even though she''d managed to put her hand out to brace herself, the impact stung painfully. She laid there limply for a good while before even being able to struggle upright once more. Once she did, she could hear voices... Rand''s and another man. It was faint, but not far off. She managed to sit up, rubbing her arms, blinking towards the comforting sound of voices.


    A flash of light caught her full in the face, and she stared blindly at the source. Rand''s voice again then... he was beside her, pulling her to her feet. "Ellette, the park guard found us..." he told her, and she clung to him, making her faltering way up the path.


    How was it he was so strong? Hadn''t he been floundering in the water? Wasn''t he frozen and exhausted too?


    The car was incredibly warm. The comforting warmth made her so groggy, she could barely focus. She was only dimly aware of her surroundings, of Rand beside her. His attention was focused on the child. They¡¯d stripped the boy down, getting him out of his clinging, wet garments, and had him wrapped in a blanket that the guard had provided them with. Working to both dry him and warm him, he rubbed vigorously at his arms, his legs, his chest, and face, each little by little. The color was coming back to his features, there was hope for him yet.


    The car came to a stop, and the driver climbed out. Within moments, the emergency room bay was alive with action, and a gurney was brought out to take the boy from the car. Rand relinquished him reluctantly and sat helplessly watching as they attended to him, rushing their charge into the hospital.


    This had meant something more to Rand than she¡¯d realized. Though she yearned to reach out to him, to ask what was going through his mind, she didn¡¯t care to interrupt his moment. A familiar tingling started up along the base of her neck, and she placed the feeling immediately.


    "Rand," she whispered, "I think it''s time to go..." She caught his hand, praying with all her might that he would be crossing back with her. He turned to her, and she felt herself fading. No! she thought. It was too soon, too fast. Had she caught his hand in time? Would she pull him back through to the waking world?


    It was strange, the transition from dream to reality again. It was like coming out of a very intense dream. Simply put, waking from a waking state was disorienting. She blinked, the room slowly coming into focus, her surroundings registering as home. They were on the couch. They, that''s right. Rand was beside her. She turned to him. His eyes were still shut, his head tilted awkwardly to the side, in her direction.


    She sighed and sat up straight, tears threatening to breach her eyelids. She was so exhausted, so pained from her experiences. None of it mattered, though, if he didn''t make it back. She took his other hand, holding them both cradled in her own, waiting for what felt like forever. Surely he would wake soon. Any moment.

 3.6 - Eclipsing Depths

    Much to her relief, there was a stir. He blinked, slowly. Like her, it took a moment for his surroundings to sink in, for him to come around. Still shivering, weak, and emotionally drained, she flung her arms around his neck.


    ¡°Thank the goddess,¡± she muttered, clinging to him. She felt his hands find her back, uncertainly at first. Just the lightest touch as he struggled to come fully awake. He tightened his embrace, pulling her roughly against him.


    They sat there for a long moment, holding one another before Ellette recovered herself. She pushed away from him reluctantly. He caught her cheek as she did so, but she pulled away, refusing to meet his eye. He let out a sigh, and kissed her forehead, releasing her. Still shivering, she settled back down on the couch.


    Rand stood, wordlessly. He turned back to her. ¡°I¡¯m going to my room. The heater blanket...¡± he said softly. It was the one reliable source of warmth in the apartment. She¡¯d been planning on getting one for herself, but the nights hadn¡¯t gotten cold enough to force the issue. Now with the chill of the dreamwalk still clinging to their waking bodies, the cold of the winter night dug into them deeper than the simple draft that normally drifted through the apartment.


    She nodded, climbing slowly to her feet. She trailed after him reluctantly, rubbing her arms. Lingering in the doorway, she fought back the chattering of her teeth, watching him pull back the covers and flip on the switch to the blanket. It frustrated her, this forced intimacy, the awkwardness it created between them. Rand was dear to her, but friendship was all she wanted from him. It was as far as she could go, with anyone. At least, that¡¯s what she kept telling herself. The stress of the night, her still trembling body, and the anxiety growing within her was pushing her to the verge of tears again.


    Rand looked up at her, catching her expression. He took a deep breath, and pulled the cord loose from the wall, tugging the blanket off the bed.


    She watched him, ready to protest, but he spoke first. ¡°I can¡¯t sleep anyway. Let¡¯s go watch TV.¡± He walked past her to the little living room, plugging the blanket in there and settling on the couch. She hung back leaning against the door frame a moment longer, wiping at the tears that had managed to escape.


    There was little to watch, so they settled on the ambiance of the barely tolerable music and flickering light of the weather feed.


    ¡°How did you do it?¡± Ellette finally asked, yearning to break the uncomfortable silence.


    ¡°Do what?¡± he asked, roused from his thoughts. He shifted on the couch, and she knew he was watching her.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    She studied the pilled texture of the blanket, pulling it down from her face to clarify. ¡°You were nearly dead in that water, or so I thought... and then you came back. Where did you find the strength?¡± She¡¯d been wondering that and more since they¡¯d come back, since the relief of knowing they were both safe had worn off.


    ¡°Oh.¡± His voice was a sigh, hesitant. She waited, and he eventually spoke again. ¡°When you took the boy from me, when you¡¯d managed to get to shore, I gave up. I wanted him safe, that was all that motivated me,¡± he explained haltingly.


    She glanced up at him then, surprised by this revelation. The Rand she knew was strong, not one to give up, not anymore. His expression was hard, his brow furrowed as he struggled with whatever internal battle was raging within him.


    He continued, ¡°When you slapped me, the pain of it brought me around. But it was your words that brought me the strength. You said he would die on the shore. He needed me.¡± He paused turning to her. ¡°You needed me.¡± Their eyes met, and she held his gaze for a long moment before crumbling under the intensity of it. She pulled the blanket up over her nose once more, pondering. It was strange, this dreamwalk. Had it been for him all along? Was it something he¡¯d needed to do?


    ¡°Rand...¡± she managed after a moment of thought. ¡°I think, somehow, this dreamwalk was for you. It was something you needed to do, to finish.¡±


    He nodded solemnly, and there was a catch in his voice when he finally spoke. ¡°Rescuing that boy...¡± he sighed and tried again. ¡°I had a little boy.¡±


    Her head jerked up at the confession, and she stared at him, struck by the pain in that confession. Though she yearned to ask, she didn¡¯t dare. It was his confession to give if he was willing.


    ¡°I always blamed myself.¡± He choked out, blinking determinedly. Ellette slipped her hand under the blankets to find his. He gave it a gentle squeeze and smiled sadly at her. ¡°Saving that boy... I know I saved someone else that pain.¡± He said softly. ¡°It was closure, of a sort.¡±


    She nodded, having no words to console him. The TV came to life, then, breaking the silence as the early morning newscast came on.


    ¡°Breaking news. A mystery couple saved a child from drowning in the early morning hours. Stay tuned for more.¡±


    Rand burst into laughter, and Ellette stared at him, startled by the outburst. ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡± She asked hesitantly.


    ¡°Did we lose a day? It doesn¡¯t make sense!¡±


    She smiled, relieved at the turn from a somber mood to his usual good cheer. ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± She laughed. ¡°I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll find out soon enough. Does it matter?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°No...¡± His grip on her hand tightened, and he pulled her to him. Gathering her into a tight hug, she sat stiffly in his embrace. ¡°Thank you, Ellette. For today, for everything.¡±


    She nodded, speechless. What this walk had meant to him, she couldn¡¯t possibly understand. Her life experiences, her past was so vastly different than his. Yet, she was glad for the healing it had provided him. She leaned her head on his shoulder, softening to the comfort of his embrace. ¡°It wasn¡¯t me...¡± she whispered. ¡°You¡¯re the one who found the strength.¡±

 4 - Breathing Underwater

    I want to drown. Drown in the cover of darkness, broken only by neon lights and the slurred, hushed conversation. I sit alone at the far end of this dank, dark bar, a setting that only serves to feed my somber mood. The whiskey is cloyingly sweet and sharp. I¡¯ve had too much, and nowhere near enough.


    They leave me be, the patrons of this old haunt. They know me well. I¡¯ve given them a piece of my soul. I¡¯ve paid my dues, as I do each night. I play for a bit, let them feel, and allow myself to feel. Soon, it is too much and I take my leave of the stage. No one seems to mind. I don¡¯t know why, but I need the audience, the connection, if only for the briefest of time.


    Now though, it is time to drown my sorrows, to fight down the waves of memories that threaten to tug me down. They start in small swells, lapping at my toes, wetting the cuffs of my pants. There is no undertow, not at this point. There is no real strength to the pull.


    Drink after drink, I sink. I¡¯m at the bottom now, the light flicking through the depths. Memories rise, bright jewel-like bubbles. I remember.


    I remember her and all we had. We grew up together. At first, we were nothing more than family friends, smiles and waves and awkward conversations. Then she noticed me, and I her. She pushed me to be more, and I dared her to dream. My first love and I thought for so long, my only love. She was my everything. And then she gave me more.


    He was born early, every finger and toe so tiny, so perfect. Our union sealed with his first breath. All that we were forever joined in a little soul that was ours to care for.


    Oh, how I adored him, my baby, my boy. I¡¯d work all night and struggle to stay awake through the day just so I wouldn¡¯t miss a moment. I was whole, my life complete in the joy of watching him grow in leaps and bounds. Every day was a milestone, even through the sleep fatigued haze, I wouldn¡¯t have given up a single moment. Our little family was all that mattered, Roxie, Reid, and me. Two had been love, but three was a dream.


    Dreams, such insubstantial things. We were children ourselves. Young and naive.  We were poor in those early days, with barely enough to get through. Fatigue ate away the patience. Stress made tempers flare. Through these rocky waters we clung to our little lifeboat, our child, our hope, little Reid.


    We held on, and the storm broke. We thought we were safe, we¡¯d made it through the hard times, all we had achieved. Roxie graduated, with her degree, a career followed. With two incomes, we would succeed. I still worked nights and spent the days with Reid, toddling now and growing fast.


    Gone were the days that he would lay and giggle and coo at his mobile. No longer would he be contented with a soft toy, rattle, or a short drive. Now we struggled to keep things out of reach, out of his hands and mouth. Every table, couch, and chair another tool to help him climb. Every item left unattended, dropped, or misplaced found its way to sticky, drool covered hands. Keeping up with an active boy through my sleepless days and sleepless nights was swiftly becoming more than I could handle.


    We¡¯d put away enough for a down-payment. The house was more than we needed, but Roxie wanted room to grow. I could never tell her no. Building a fence for the pool was first on my list, but I never could find the time. Between boxes and child gates, long hours, and dwindling vacation days, I was stretched thin. Daycares never passed muster with Roxie, and sitters were few and far between.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Toddling turned to walking and running, and nap-times became a happy memory. I couldn¡¯t keep up, things had to change. Potty training, the last piece of the puzzle, Roxie swore. The preschool would take him once we reached that lofty goal. It¡¯s easier said than done. We were so close, Reid and I on this journey to manhood. Pee in the potty, point, and aim, shake it off and put it away. Every M&M earned a tug on my heartstrings. The last happy memory, the last joy I could cling to. My little man.


    The waters swirl and turn dark, the current cold and cruel. I am no longer safely floating through memories, I¡¯ve been buoyed to the surface where the waves crash upon me, relentless and savage. I flail and struggle to breathe. Lightning flashes across the sky and see. I see what I do not wish to see.


    His lips blue, his skin so pale. Long lashes against those sweet plump cheeks that will never again brighten into that smile that lit my heart. With him went my soul.


    After a snack, I¡¯d put on a show, his favorite, to catch my precious hour of sleep before Roxie came home and took the next shift.


    Ried had just learned to open the door, the knob a challenge he worked to overcome. He liked his challenges, my little boy. I¡¯d sworn once he was in school, I¡¯d put up the fence. One thing at a time, Roxie and I had agreed.


    The materials still sit, piled on their pallets, weathered by rain and long abandoned. The yard neglected, the weeds grown up high, seen only in glimpses through the glass of that traitorous backdoor.


    The pain comes flaring bright again, and I am crushed upon the rocks of the shore, blinking into the darkening sky. I had thought no pain was greater, I thought it had all been taken.


    Until she took even more.


    The silence between us had been long. The tears had evaporated into a ghostlike existence as we drifted through our days, barely crossing paths on our routines. Her world was day, and mine was the night. She piled on the work, her weekends filled as well as her evenings. Through my lonely days and menial nights, I saw her less and less.


    Without the sun of Ried¡¯s smiling face, I was lost. No little feet to kick me when he crawled into bed beside me. No babbling stories or questions of ¡°what¡¯s that?¡± No routine of meals and potty and baths and failed attempts at naps.


    I held it together somehow, paying the bill and working each night. Then over dinner she told me, the words that would crush me.


    ¡°I have to go,¡± she said softly, moving her food around on the plate, all attempts at eating long abandoned. ¡°I can¡¯t stay in this house. I have to get out.¡±


    I nodded, I knew what she meant. We¡¯d cried in his room for days, the door hadn¡¯t been opened in months. Yet the reminders were everywhere. The corner where he¡¯d cut his chin, the grape juice stain in the carpet, the child locks and outlet covers, the toys I¡¯d unearth from time to time.


    ¡°We¡¯ll go then,¡± I replied, it would be so simple. Pick up and leave, start over somehow.


    ¡°No,¡± Roxie cut in, interrupting my thoughts. ¡°I mean, I have to go. Alone.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±


    ¡°All I see him when I look at you,¡± her voice echoed like thunder in my misery. Words came after; explanations, and platitudes. Sweet nothings and promises of maybe someday. We both knew the truth. It was the end.


    Our love, though it had blossomed so long before Ried, though we¡¯d gone through so much, was crushed under the weight of our sorrow. The young lovers we¡¯d been had grown up. We can never go back.


    And now I drown. Drown in the memories of what had been. Of my first love, my second love, and of how I lost it all. The glimpses I catch, those memories bring me such a bittersweet joy. Each scene that replays, each glimpse back, my heart¡¯s fondest wish replayed forever. I remember them best in this alcohol-soaked haze, blurring sharp-edged reminders of reality.

 5.1 - Streaming

    Her face was streaming when I found her. Streaming with tears or just the rain, I wasn¡¯t entirely sure.


    Then the look, the look she gave me ¡ª those large, dark, blue eyes of hers so distant. It was as if she¡¯d never known me, and I¡¯d just intruded on her in this vast, empty park.


    As my dear friend, I wanted to put my arms around her, take her home.


    But that look. I didn¡¯t dare touch her. She had that look of a cornered, feral creature. I¡¯d trespassed on something. I¡¯m not sure what, but I wasn¡¯t welcome in this moment of solitude she¡¯d carved out for herself.


    So, I stood there in the rain. I could wait her out. No words. Just silent company. I figured it was the least I could do.


    * * *


    Since we found each other some time ago, Ellette has been ever-present in my life. Yet, we know only the barest basics about one another. The day-to-day, the habits, likes and dislikes, we know intimately. You can¡¯t live in a tiny apartment together for the better part of a year without gaining that comfortable knowledge of one another. Our pasts, though, our lives before the here and now, we don¡¯t talk about.


    I figure hers is as pained as mine. I don¡¯t ask, don¡¯t pry. It¡¯s none of my business. She¡¯s a quiet girl, and I¡¯ll let her keep it that way if she chooses to be.


    It does, though, make it difficult, considering some of the experiences we¡¯ve shared. We¡¯ve grown very close over the winter, or at least... I think we have. I¡¯d like to take things further, I¡¯d like to... well, you know. Be more than friends.


    Nothing changes, though. She jokes, teases, has her moody moments, but at any hint of intimacy, it just stops. She¡¯s quite skilled at changing the conversation, finding an excuse, avoiding.


    I don¡¯t push. I don¡¯t dare. I care about her too much... but I want to know what it is... what the source of this hesitance is. More importantly, I want to know more about her, to feel free to ask. I just... can¡¯t.


    Then, out of the blue... she was gone.


    * * *


    I felt her gaze find me after some time. I was hesitant to look down where she sat, to meet those eyes. She said nothing.


    My hands were aching from the cold. I couldn¡¯t imagine how she could stand it. She was thin and wore just her basic tee shirt and jeans. Nothing to protect against this chill and wet.


    I turned ever so slightly, lowering my gaze to hers. I nearly jumped when she spoke.


    ¡°It always rains...¡± she started, then her voice trailed off, and I wondered what I¡¯d missed. Her eyes had shifted from me to look out over the rolling green of the park.


    I almost opened my mouth, almost asked, when she spoke again.


    ¡°Rain. She said it cleanses the world. Washes it all way,¡± she shook her head, sadly. ¡°I wish I felt that way...¡± she sighed softly, shifting in her position on the grass. ¡°Before she got sick, we lived together. I¡¯d never had so much fun... never felt so... complete, so whole.¡± A small smile graced her lips now, and she looked up at me. My heart caught under that look. ¡°I feel like that with you...¡±Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Ellette...¡± my response was a breathy utterance. I put my hand out to her, to help her up. I wanted to get her home, to get out of this cold. It was seeping into my bones, my hands would be stiff for days. Ellette, though, she wasn¡¯t nearly as cold tolerant as I was. I could see the tinge of blue to her lips, the bright red flush to those pale cheeks. She would be sick after this, I had no doubt.


    She shook her head. She wasn¡¯t done yet.


    ¡°No. I need to stay, until the rain is over. Wash it away...¡±


    * * *


    One day, she just didn¡¯t come home. At first, I just assumed she¡¯d gotten distracted, forgotten to call. It wasn¡¯t any big deal. I was actually pretty happy for her. She fits in well enough, and was happy to be with people... but she wasn¡¯t outgoing. She didn¡¯t do anything unless she just happened to be invited along. It¡¯s not that she¡¯s not confident... she¡¯s not afraid of... well, anything. She just doesn¡¯t look to socialize unless there¡¯s some other purpose or motivation to do so.


    Most nights, I¡¯d drag her out to one of my gigs or to some underground show just so she wouldn¡¯t be at home writing in that journal of hers. Not that there is anything wrong with that... I¡¯m happy she has a hobby. It just seems like such a solitary one. Besides, I figure we found each other for a reason. Dragging her out to live life a little more can¡¯t hurt.


    So, one night out without calling was a little odd, but I didn¡¯t think much of it. We¡¯re both adults, just roommates, only friends.


    When I came home from work the next day, though, and still no sign, that¡¯s when I began to worry. Ellette has this...talent. Or curse. I¡¯m not sure. When she dreams, her dreams are more than just realistic. They are real. She steps into the lives of other people, most of the time as a sort of aide or guide to them. Though she can¡¯t die, can¡¯t really be hurt in one of these dreams... that doesn¡¯t mean someone from her dreams can¡¯t come to find her in the waking world.


    After all, that¡¯s how I found her.


    Roxie thought I was crazy. Not that that was anything new. She¡¯d written me off as crazy a long time before that. I was determined, though, to find this girl who¡¯d saved me and disappeared. Eventually, I did. We¡¯ve been fairly inseparable ever since, Ellette and I.


    Then she disappeared again, and I began to wonder, to worry, who else might have found her. Though Ellette is, in many ways an angel, be it something of a fallen angel, to those she finds in her dreamwalks, not everyone she encounters is grateful. She¡¯s made enemies and has told me how thankful she is that she never fails to wake up safe in her bed.


    The little apartment seemed vastly empty without her, and my mind when to those who would do her harm. I called a few friends and came up with nothing. The park was a favorite place of hers, and I knew she was no stranger to the streets.


    So I walked those dark, lonely paths through Leeson Park until I was exhausted. I stumbled home well past midnight and collapsed on the couch that was normally pulled out into a bed for her. It smelled of her, and that was some small comfort.


    * * *


    I stared at her, this pale thin girl drenched and turning blue in the rain. How could she see herself as tarnished, I wondered. If only she could see herself through my eyes. Perhaps it¡¯s only hormones, infatuation, all of that speaking, but to me, she is perfect. I know, sappy, romantic nonsense.


    Okay, she¡¯s not perfect. She¡¯s boney and boyish. She keeps her hair too short for my taste. She¡¯s secretive, passive, and moody. Living with her can be like living with that emo teenager, but without all the drama. Just the constant silent treatment with the occasional hostile outburst. Those are usually mild.


    The rest of the time, though, she¡¯s a delight. Really, she is. She¡¯s just a good kid. Well, I say kid, but she¡¯s older than she looks, though she doesn¡¯t always act it. There is something broken in her... and I can¡¯t quite place it. I often wonder how much of a childhood she had.


    ¡°Whenever it would rain, she¡¯d run out and stand with her face upturned, her arms outstretched,¡± Ellette continued. Who she was referring to, I had no clue.


    ¡°She¡¯d come back in beaming. Mother nature¡¯s baptism, she¡¯d say. You can be reborn in the rain...¡± her voice cracked, and she looked up to me then. I knew those were tears now. ¡°Rand,¡± she whispered, and I knew it was my chance to step in, to put an end to this, ¡°I can¡¯t feel it. No matter how many times I do this... It never washes away...¡±


    I had no answer. Nothing but my companionship to offer. I knelt, gathering her to me. She let go, leaning into me, ever silent, ever stoic. Eventually, I coaxed her to her feet, and she allowed me to guide her home.

 5.2 - Streaming

    When I awoke that next morning, aching and stiff from sleeping on that old couch, there was still no sign of her. I have to admit, I¡¯d half hoped she¡¯d show up during the night. I knew I¡¯d have to drag myself into work, but it would be a less than productive day. As I went through the motions of grooming and dressing, it finally occurred to me to call her work. She wasn¡¯t the type to shirk her work. If she was okay, she¡¯d be there. No doubt. She just needed some time from me... for some reason.


    I picked up the phone, flipping through my small list of numbers before punching hers in. It rang twice before a surly girl I knew from the shop answered. ¡°Grub a dub deli, how can I help you?¡± she muttered into the phone.


    ¡°Hi, Stella. I need to know if Ellette has been in today or yesterday.¡±


    She snorted into the phone. ¡°No, that bum took the whole week off. I¡¯m on my own.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, she asked for the time a while back. She didn¡¯t tell you?¡±


    ¡°No... no.¡± stuttered in reaction. ¡°Thanks Stella. Hey, do me a favor. Call me if she shows up?¡±


    She laughed, she knew we were roomies, and was dying to goad me on this. ¡°I¡¯ll call.¡±


    ¡°Thanks,¡± I added quickly and hung up. I didn¡¯t care to explain that she¡¯d disappeared on me. Most of our associates assumed we were a couple. The fact that she took off without me knowing would be a juicy piece of gossip. Not that I cared, but people do love to talk.


    * * *


    Up the stairs we climbed, and she stumbled more and more with each step. It was a relief when she finally gave in and let me carry her those last few steps and down the hall to our shabby little apartment. In her condition, I knew an explanation for her irrational behavior wouldn¡¯t be likely. I was just happy to know she was okay, for the most part, and was home. The rest could wait.


    And wait, I did.


    The first day she was back, there was little in the way of conversation. She was far too sick, too somber for that. I went to work, hoping that I¡¯d return home to find her where I¡¯d left her.


    It was impossible to think, to focus. I could only wonder what had put her into such a state. Her disappearance was planned, that much was obvious by the fact that she¡¯d requested time off work. Why hadn¡¯t she said anything?


    It was only by chance that I had run into Jessie as she bolted for the coffee shop to escape the rain. She hadn¡¯t even looked up at me, her mess of auburn curls obscuring her face.


    ¡°Your girl is out there in the park. It¡¯s as if she¡¯s summoning the rain...¡± she¡¯d said, and then she was gone, through the doors and into the warmth and shelter of the shop. Jessie is as wise and crazy as they come. I took heed of her comment and headed out into the ever-increasing torrent.


    That¡¯s when I found her, her face streaming with rain and tears, her clothes soaked through. She was just sitting there, staring off. And then she started talking to me about her little sister, who got sick. That was all I could gather from her ramblings.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    I suppose her sister died. I¡¯m no stranger to having a loved one die. I can understand how this can break a person. So now, I¡¯m waiting her out. She¡¯ll tell me if and when she¡¯s ready.


    * * *


    I came home to a darkened house. I was tense with anticipation, hoping that the silence, the dark only meant she was sleeping. That she hadn¡¯t slipped off again without a word or explanation. I flipped on the light in our narrow kitchen and was relieved to make out the outline of her form under the blankets on the pullout couch.


    After winding down from an agonizingly long day at work, I made my way to her. I sat down on the edge and pushed a few stray jet black hairs from her face. She was flushed, her skin hot to the touch. I sighed. It was like taking care of a child with her sometimes.


    After digging through the cabinets for some Advil and filling a glass of water, I returned to the bedside.


    ¡°Ellette,¡± I prompted, shaking her shoulder. ¡°You need to take something for that fever.¡±


    I was no stranger to fevers. My boy used to get them all the time. Many a long night was spent trading off with Roxie to check on him and keep track of the Tylenol and Advil rotations.


    She moaned and eventually roused herself. It was a long, groggy process getting her to take the pills. Afterward, she just sat, her knees pulled up to her chest, resting her chin on them. She blinked sluggishly at me, and much to my surprise began to speak.


    ¡°When Dani and I moved to the city, it was like life had begun for us for the first time. Everything else, was like a past life, a bad dream.


    ¡°Dani... was... my little sister. In every way except for blood. We¡¯d gotten through a great deal together.


    ¡°We got an apartment, jobs, and were even active in the community. Dani was part of some social club. I can¡¯t even remember the name of it now, but it meant so much to her. At the end of the club year, in the spring, there was to be a big gala. She saved up every penny so she could buy this dress she¡¯d put on layaway. It was pink and strapless... her perfect prom dress. It was her way of making up for not going to prom.


    ¡°After agonizing, scrimping and saving, we¡¯d both managed to save up enough for this dress. It was hanging in her closet, ready and waiting for her big day.


    ¡°Then, she got sick.


    ¡°It happened so quick. One day she was fine, the next she was in the hospital. Within two weeks, she was gone. It was just enough time to watch her waste away, but not enough to come to grips with what was happening.¡±


    ¡°So... after she passed... I went to the gala as she¡¯d asked, wearing that bright pink dress that I had to stuff quite generously to even come close to filling it out. Somehow, I got through it.


    ¡°Afterwards, I waded into the river... the rain pouring down on me,¡± she paused, ¡°I put my arms out like she had...


    ¡°That feeling she¡¯d described, never came. I was just as empty, only now I was miserably wet and cold. I went home, put all her things in storage... and my life slowly fell apart.¡±


    Her long, slender, still burning hot fingers found mine. She squeezed my hand softly. ¡°Then, you found me on that hot summer day two years later.¡± She studied my scarred, damaged hands and turned them over in her own.


    There was a long stretch of silence before I dared to fill the void. ¡°I was worried,¡± was all I could manage.


    She only nodded, this still slightly feral, stray girl I had taken in. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I...¡± she trailed off, searching for words. None came for a long moment, and she met my eyes hesitantly before they slid away once more. ¡°I know you have your own...¡± she paused again, ¡°grief...¡±


    I smiled. So, that was, at least in part, what this was about. ¡°I¡¯ve had more time than you have, sunk far deeper than you did, and climbed back out.¡± I sighed, realizing it as I said it, ¡°I¡¯ve put that as far behind me as I can. You won¡¯t trouble me, don¡¯t worry about that.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine for now. Maybe next year...¡±


    ¡°Next year you¡¯ll tell me before you go?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    "That''s all I ask," and I left it at that.


    And so we went back about our normal lives... well, as normal as our lives are.


    I will never forget, though, the sight of her streaming with rain and tears, hoping to wash away some secret sin.

 6.1 Ebb and Flow

    It was a glorious summer night. The moon illuminated the landscape in a silvery sheen, the crickets singing out all around her. Though it had been dark for some time, it was still hot, and she pulled off her jacket, hanging it over the seat of her motorcycle. Ellette inhaled deeply through her nose, throwing her head back to enjoy the simple beauty of the night.


    After some time, she decided to walk along the dirt path that snaked through the vast, old park. Lamps were scattered throughout the man-made wilderness, but it made little impact on the shadows beneath the trees. Any number of unsavory characters could be lurking just out of sight, and some likely did.


    She didn¡¯t care. This was her world. She¡¯d known fear, she¡¯d known homelessness and despair. She still feared those things, but tonight, in this reality, she was fearless, invincible. She was here for a reason. What reason was, she wasn¡¯t sure just yet. She soon grew frustrated. What a waste of a wonderful night, she thought, circling back to the parking lot again. Nothing was happening.


    Ellette leaned against her bike, arms crossed, staring at the shadow-filled park. There were people here, a scattering amongst the benches and picnic tables, minding their own business. Nothing that seemed to pique her interest, to draw her. She let out a long, heavy sigh and wandered over to the park bench. Something would come, or there was something she was missing.


    ¡°You know, this isn¡¯t a very good neighborhood to be wandering around alone at night.¡±


    Ellette stood, startled by the voice that seemed to have materialized from nowhere. She let out a sigh of relief when she realized it was a young man, maybe sixteen, lanky, blond, unthreatening, and rather pretty. Ellette grinned, running a hand through her glossy black hair.


    ¡°Then what are you doing out here?¡± she scoffed.


    He sighed his body language speaking volumes. His shoulders hunched ever so slightly, defensive, anxious, and on edge.  ¡°Listen,¡± he said softly. ¡°You cannot just come parading through this park at night and not expect someone to notice you.¡±


    She resisted laughing. She¡¯d wanted to be noticed, to draw someone out. His concern was endearing. Though she had resisted laughing, she still smirked at him, and he¡¯d clearly noticed.


    ¡°You see those guys over there?¡± he hissed. ¡°No, don¡¯t look, but those guys over there... they¡¯ve been watching you. I think you should leave, now.¡±


    ¡°Alright. Only if you come with me,¡± she said with a grin. This was it. This was who she was here for. She was sure of it.


    He ran his hand through his hair before accepting defeat and shrugging. ¡°Fine, where to?¡±


    She tossed him her spare helmet, which he caught deftly. She took note of that. Anxious, though he was, he clearly had physical aptitude of some sort. ¡°I don¡¯t know the area. You tell me.¡±


    He glanced back at the men lingering in the park and back to her before approaching her and her motorcycle. "There''s a cafe up the road here, to the right," he suggested, pointing down the road. She stared off in the direction he''d gestured to before climbing on the battered old bike.


    "This place got a name?" she asked before pulling on her helmet.


    "Umm, The Dinky Diner, I think... at least that''s what everyone calls it." She could tell he was second-guessing his decision to join her, but she''d coerced others to take a ride with her before. It wasn''t like he had anything to fear from her. Ellette was not an imposing person, willowy, and almost overly thin. Physically, he had a clear advantage. He was slender but not slight, and quite tall.


    "Aright, you coming?¡± she asked, pulling the helmet on, the visor still flipped up. He hesitated, helmet in hand. "Look, you want to protect me from those big scary men in the shadows?"


    "If you would just leave, you wouldn¡¯t need protecting.¡±


    "What are you afraid of?" she taunted.


    "I''m not afraid. I don''t know you."


    She sighed. "Look kid, what could I possibly do to you? You afraid I have a gun?" She patted down her body, her jacket, noticing she did indeed have a gun holstered to her side. She raised an eyebrow. ¡°Huh. That¡¯s strange. Seems I do.¡± She pulled it out, slowly. She held it out to him, handle first. "If it¡¯ll make you feel better, you can take it. But come with me."


    He eyed the gun, before shaking his head. "Put that away," he muttered, before running his hand through his hair. "I''ll go, just... Why do you want me to come with you?"


    She studied him briefly before responding. "I need some company.¡±


    He looked about ready to toss down the helmet and walk away in disgust. He surprised her, though, putting it on his head and fastening the strap.


    "I could do with some too, I guess," he muttered, making his way towards the motorcycle. She smiled and flipped down her visor. He climbed on, settling into the seat behind her. He fidgeted for a moment before settling his hands on her hips, reluctant and unsure. She grinned in her helmet, she couldn''t help but like the kid. So many his age would have leaned too close and made a fumbling attempt to grope her, even as thin and boyish as she was.


    She turned to him. "Hold on, okay?" she instructed, "Lean with me, and otherwise, just hold on." She revved up the old machine, waiting for the engine to purr before she pushed it off its kickstand and set off towards the road. She was thankful for what a natural the kid was, leaning just enough to help her through the turns, not a hindrance as someone with more body mass would be.


    They arrived at a small diner, quaint and only slightly in decline. Ellette smiled as she pulled to a stop and flipped the kickstand down. It was her kind of place. Out of the way, quiet, homey. Upscale was not her thing. The boy scrambled off the bike, unbuckling the helmet and running his hand through his hair. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    Ellette pulled off her helmet before sliding off the bike. "So, kid, what¡¯s your name?"


    He gave her an evaluating look, her spare helmet tucked under his arm. ¡°I half expected you to know,¡± he muttered.


    Ellette shrugged and climbed off her bike. ¡°Nope.¡± Her stomach was growling at the smell of greasy goodness emanating from the diner. ¡°I¡¯m Ellette,¡± she said, checking her pockets, hoping to find cash or a wallet.


    ¡°Matthias,¡± he told her, shoving the helmet at her.


    "I''m starved. Lead the way, Matthias." Hooking the helmet on the handlebar, she followed him into the diner.


    With some unease, Ellette noticed that people watched Matthias warily as they made their way into the diner. The cook behind the counter gave him a curt nod. Most disturbing was the vague air of fear among those who interacted with him. Ellette tried not to read too much into it, but it was hard not to miss. Who was she dealing with exactly? This pretty young man seemed rather unimposing. He hadn¡¯t struck her as dangerous, but this welcome at the diner made her question her perceptions.


    He slid into a corner booth, and Ellette slid in across from him. It was then, in the light of the diner that she noticed the bruise discoloring the side of his face. It traced from the top of his left cheekbone down along his cheek. It possibly had been a black eye at one point, now healed.


    "What happened to your cheek?"


    He reached up to touch his cheek self consciously. "Practice. Martial arts," he explained haltingly. "I miscalculated, fell. It''s nothing."


    Ellette shook her head and asked no more. She doubted that was the full answer, but she had no reason to pry. Studying the menu, her mouth watered at the prospect of greasy diner food. She''d found a couple of bucks in her pocket and could afford something small at least.


    "What''s good?" she asked, waving at the menu, overwhelmed. She subsisted on so little, the thought of food was too much.


    He glanced at it briefly, disinterested. ¡°Uh, I guess the grilled chicken?¡± His eyes slid around the room once more before settling back on the menu. ¡°No, sorry, you¡¯ve got to go with the greasy stuff here. If it sounds like it will kill you it probably won¡¯t taste too bad.¡±


    She laughed. ¡°So, a burger?¡±


    As if her mood were contagious, he smiled and added, ¡°You¡¯d better add lots of cheese and bacon just to be safe.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind,¡± she replied with a sly smile. Though she knew with the cash she had on hand, a plain burger was all she could afford.


    A surly looking waitress with disheveled hair and a stained apron made her way to their table. She stood gnawing on her gum for a moment before asking, ¡°So, can I help you kids?¡±


    Ellette smiled up at the woman who checked her nails in obvious disinterest. ¡°A burger for me.¡±


    ¡°Mhmmm... Anything to drink?¡± She jotted down the order.


    ¡°Ah no, just water.¡±


    ¡°What, no bacon and cheese?¡± Matthias added playfully.


    Her stomach growled at the thought and she glanced down, suddenly embarrassed. Matthias shot her a questioning look and she shrugged.


    ¡°I don¡¯t have enough cash...¡±


    He laughed and folded his menu, handing it to the waitress. ¡°Loralee, get her that bacon slathered cheeseburger. I¡¯ll just have some tea.¡± He glanced back at Ellette. ¡°You want a soda or something? If you¡¯re going for unhealthy, you might as well top it off with some caffeinated sugar water.


    ¡°Uh, yeah,¡± she stuttered, thrown by the change in their dynamic. Hadn¡¯t she been the one taking charge just a few minutes ago? ¡°I¡¯ll have a coke.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ve got you. You¡¯re obviously hungry.¡±


    She nodded, feeling a slight flush rise to her cheeks. ¡°I... uh.¡± She shrugged, having no real explanation to offer. The truth was too strange. ¡°Just short on cash. Thank you...¡± She felt suddenly out of sorts, wondering what she was doing at this diner with this oddly confident teenaged boy in the middle of the night.


    Once the waitress had made her way back behind the counter, he leaned forward across the table, studying her with keen eyes. Ellette sat up straight, reminding herself that she was surely here to help him, that she was the one in control. Yet that observant gaze of his set her on edge.


    ¡°So, what were you doing at the park so late at night,¡± he lowered his voice, ¡°and with a gun no less?¡±


    He didn¡¯t waste any time. She felt the heat growing in her cheeks. ¡°Um... I sort of was looking for trouble?¡±


    His look grew hard, ¡°Why would you do that?¡±


    She laughed, not liking the turn of their conversation. ¡°It¡¯s hard to explain. Listen, Matthias. I know it sounds strange, but I really was just looking for company. Yours, in particular, I think.¡± She flashed him a pixie-like smile.


    That scowl was back, rather it had never left. "You don''t know me, and if you know of me, you''re barking up the wrong tree."


    "Now I''m a dog?" She straightened in her seat. She allowed him to throw her off guard more than enough in one night.


    His glare faltered, and he sputtered to correct himself, "I didn''t mean..."


    She laughed, giving his hand a reassuring pat. What a pair they were. ¡°My situation is hard to explain."


    He pulled his hand away and leaned on the table, arms crossed. "Try me."


    She shrugged. "Well, I get sent places, and usually I''m expected to help someone. If I don''t someone might hurt, or I get sent back until I figure it out."


    "So you think I was going to get hurt?"


    Ellette smiled and shrugged again. "Well, that was an oversimplification. Sometimes I just help people out in more mundane ways. Like help some high school kid feel better by listening to them." The waitress brought out the food, a heaping plate of belly-filling goodness. Ellette beamed up at her, "Thank you so much, this looks amazing!" She didn''t hesitate and dug right in, all thoughts of their previous conversation forgotten.


    Matthias chuckled. "You really are hungry."


    Ellette nodded, though she knew eating wouldn''t do much good in the real world. There was something therapeutic about eating even if it would result in a still empty belly when she woke. At least she could feel full for the night. After she''d gotten a good portion of the meal down and paused to sip on her drink, Matthais took the opportunity to remind her what they had been discussing.


    "So, you think something was going to happen to me?"


    "I don''t know exactly. I just end up at places and usually I help people."


    "Looks like I''m the one helping you this time."


    That struck a chord in her, and she stared at him for a long moment. Though she usually helped people in the dream world, would it really be that far out there for this dreamwalk to be an opportunity for him to help her? What could he do for her? She did indeed need help, but not here, not in the realms of her dreams. She needed help back in the waking world, not this strange dream reality.


    "I suppose," she turned her focus back to her food, wondering, considering.


    "Well, finish up and we can have a talk out back," he said, that grim expression back again. "I think we need to talk about what made you think you were equipped to wander around looking for trouble, armed or not."


    She shoved the last bit of greasy, cheesy burger into her mouth to hide her smile. Whoever this kid was, it was turning out to be an interesting night.

 6.2 Ebb and Flow

    There was a little cement pad just outside the diner, lit but secluded. She could just see her motorcycle around the edge of the building. The parking lot was filling slowly as the bars let out. The all-night eatery was filling with the night owls not ready to head back to wherever home was for them.


    "So, you think you can handle yourself, and this," he reached out unabashedly and patted the holster at her side, "will protect you?"


    "I should hope the threat of a gun would deter most thugs."


    His scowl deepened and he shook his head. "Let''s put that to the test. First, you do know how to make sure the safety is on, right? Don''t want to risk you shooting me on accident for the sake of this exercise."


    Ellette nodded and pulled the weapon from the holster awkwardly. As she fumbled with it and showed him, his words caught up with her. "Wait, what? Exercise?"


    He checked to make sure it was safe before speaking again. "Yes. I want you to see if you can pull that thing out to defend yourself before I''m able to disarm you."


    "Oh, really? You some kind of kung fu master, then?"


    He rolled his eyes. "As a matter of fact, I am rather familiar with more than one of the martial arts, but that''s a moot point. Any thug could disarm or capture you easily should they want to, unless you''re a hell of a lot better with that thing than you''ve shown me a reason to believe."


    "You sure do know how to flatter a girl, don''t you?" Ellette muttered. She took a few steps back from him, sizing him up. "So, how are we going to do this?"


    He stepped back from her a few more paces and rolled his shoulders, eyeing her up in much the same manner she had him. She couldn¡¯t help but think those keen, icy blue eyes read far more into her capabilities than her glance had. "There''s a good amount of distance between us, so you should have enough time to defend yourself, right?"


    She considered for a moment, "I suppose. I''d have to know I needed to, though."


    "Right," he replied. "Someone looking to give you a hard time might not even give you this much space to act."


    She sighed. "Why does it seem like I''m going to fail miserably?"


    "That''s the point, Ellette."


    Her eyes widened as he closed the space between them, grabbed her by the wrist, jerked it painfully behind her, his other arm around her neck quicker than she could respond.


    "Sorry, that wasn''t fair. I''ll give you a little more warning this time." He released her and took a few extra steps away from her.


    She rubbed her wrist and glared at him. "Show off."


    "Just remember, someone looking to harm you might sneak up on you, you may never even see them. Let¡¯s go again. Ready?"


    She nodded and watched him warily. This time, she managed to get her hand on the gun, pull it half out of its holster before his fingers were over hers, crushing and twisting. She lost her grip and found herself at the business end of her gun before she could blink.


    He tisked and shook his head. "Those guys back at the park would have eaten you alive."


    She sighed and took the gun as he handed it back. "I got your point. The damn thing is pretty useless if I can''t even draw it."


    He nodded and turned to watch a noisy group enter the diner. Running his hand through his hair, he turned back to her. "Listen, Ellette, I¡¯ve got to go. You probably should too."


    "So, that''s it? Point made, you''re heading off?"


    "If you want to meet up again, I can show you how to better defend yourself, if you want," he suggested, arms crossed.


    She kicked at the gravel on the pavement. "I don''t know, Matthias, I don''t know if I can."


    He shrugged. "Well, if you can, come to the dojo on Madison and Fifth tomorrow night, about the same time I found you at the park. I''ll be there anyway."


    "Right," she muttered. This had not gone as expected at all.


    "Could you give me a ride into town? I can show you the place, it''s on the way."


    She smiled. "Sure."


    * * *


    Ellette woke with a smile. Though it seemed she hadn''t accomplished much of anything during the night, the time spent with Matthias had felt right. Considering nothing had really happened, there was a good chance she would find her way back to him again.


    She hummed as she readied for the day, despite the gnawing hunger in the pit of her stomach and the fact that it would be a good few days more before either she or Dani would bring home a check. It wasn''t the first time, and it certainly wouldn''t be the last. Today was her day off, thankfully, and she could spend the morning scavenging.


    She checked her watch before grabbing a bag and jogging out the door. She cursed as she realized she''d forgotten to tell Dani good morning. Dani knew the routine, though, and if she was lucky, Ellette would be back before Dani left for work.


    Ellette tapped lightly on the bakery window as she walked by, smiling and waving as Sarah looked up, flour on her cheeks. Hefting a pan into the oven, the older woman waved Ellette to the back of the store. Ellette ran around the building, finding a few lurkers already waiting for the stale bread dump. The door opened, and a rush of warm, deliciously scented air wafted out. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Silhouetted in the light of the ovens stood Sarah, a paper bag in hand. "Letty! II had a feeling you''d come by this morning."


    Ellette gave her a guilty smile as she neared. "We still haven''t mastered stretching our checks till payday. Rent is killing us."


    Sarah hugged her and pushed the bag into Ellette''s hands. "Don''t you ever hesitate to come here, Letty, dear." Sarah soothed, taking Ellette by the chin. "You''re thin as a rail, and I know you girls do your best. Everything in there I can''t sell, but it''s all good still. I packed you a few sandwiches. Run along and give one to that sweet Dani so she has some lunch."


    Ellette beamed and gave Sarah a hug. "Thank you so much, Sarah!" She turned on her heel and dashed back down the alley.


    Triumphant, Ellette returned home, slightly soggy sandwiches and stale bread in hand. Dani was thankfully still home, and Ellette was able to stash a sandwich in her bag with a quickly jotted note.


    "I have a bagel for you!" The brunette trilled, toasting it and slathering it with their last bit of butter.


    "Really? Ah! That''s great! It was going to be a long day on an empty stomach." Dani finished off braiding her long, blonde hair before tackling Ellette with a fierce hug. "You are amazing, I don''t know how you do it."


    Ellette only shrugged and handed off the chewy treat. "Just enjoy it, and have a good day."


    Dani stared down at the offering and shook her head. "You take half. It''s too much."


    "Sarah gave us plenty, I even stashed something in your bag. Now go on, before you miss your bus."


    The petite blonde did as she was told and scurried off to work.


    Her little sister taken care of, Ellette sat down to write in her journal. She needed to get her thoughts down before the details of her strange dream were completely lost. The details were so vivid as her dreams often were. The boy, Matthias, she hoped she would see him again. He was intriguing, and though it was only a dream, she found herself wanting to explore the possibility of what he could teach her. Could she really learn self-defense from a boy in a dream? Her dreams were so deceptively real, she couldn¡¯t help but hope so.


    Once she''d jotted down the details she could remember, she cleaned up the apartment and went out the scavenge as best she could. If she found enough, they might be able to pawn a few items and make do until payday. Despite their need, she found it hard to concentrate. All her thoughts were focused on the potential of her dreams, and what would happen should she see Matthias again.


    * * *


    Sleep came with some difficulty, as it often did when she was anxious. Ellette had assumed her vivid dreams were the result of her need for an escape. Now, though, when her life was getting back on track, she wondered if that theory was true. Things were still hard for her and Dani, but ultimately, they were both happy. They had goals and dreams of their own. Ellette no longer craved escapism the way she once had.


    Except for tonight. Tonight she wanted to see Matthias again, to see if he could truly teach her. If so, it would change everything.


    Once sleep came, Ellette found herself on a familiar street, in front of a familiar building. It was the same one she''d dropped Matthias off at the night before. Her bike was nowhere to be found, and her attire was strangely casual for the dream world. She wore yoga pants and a close-fitting tee shirt along with a pair of sneakers.


    Ellette couldn''t help but laugh to herself. She''d never really found a way to control the dream world, but this situation implied that perhaps she could. Or perhaps meeting Matthias had been the goal all along. She turned to the large glass windows of the dojo. The shades were down, obscuring her view of the interior, but the lights were on. He was waiting for her. After trying the door, she knocked and stood aside to wait.


    "Hey," he smiled when he found her waiting there. "I had half expected you to be a no show."


    She shrugged. "Me too. Seems it was meant to be."


    "Come on in," he held the door for her, gesturing to the wooden-floored room with a few mats stacked in the corner. Along one wall was a rack of weapons and shelves with padded gear. "Shoes," he prompted, pointing to a rack that held a single pair of shoes, his.


    "Oh, right," she fumbled, working the laces loose before setting them beside his, and pulling off her socks. No sense in keeping them on and slipping around like an idiot. She laughed at the thought.


    He turned to give her a questioning look.


    "I can''t believe I¡¯m actually here, that you''re actually going to teach me."


    "Why wouldn''t I? I''m bored and it will help keep you from getting killed."


    She rolled her eyes. "I won''t get killed, but I appreciate it."


    "What makes you so sure?"


    She shrugged. "If I told you, you wouldn''t believe me."


    "What, like the fact that you were wandering in a fairly dangerous park at night because you think you were sent to meet me?"


    "Yeah, but even crazier than that."


    "How about we just go with the whole idea that you''re crazy, and I''m a little too generous?"


    "Works for me. Now, what exactly will I be learning? Wax on, wax off? You going to have me polish these already glistening floors?"


    He ran his hand through his hair and gave her a bemused look. ¡°Do what now?¡±


    ¡°You know, Karate Kid?¡± She shook her head. It was easy to forget not everyone liked to watch old movies the way Dani did. ¡°You know, never mind.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, never seen it,¡± he confirmed. ¡°Not big on movies. Anyway, what we will be starting with is some very basic Tai Chi."


    "Tai Chi? You mean that slow-motion business old people do in the park in the morning?¡±


    ¡°Yes, that. It helps a person become more aware of their body. You focus on breathing and movement.¡±


    He walked her through a series of motions, correcting her posture, her stance, and always, always, was the focus on breath. It was a lot more difficult than she had expected, her legs burning from the way he insisted she sink into her steps, her arms shook from holding them up for extended periods as they moved through a simple set of motions. She was surprised to find herself drenched in sweat. It was a dream, after all, wasn¡¯t it? How and why could she feel it all so clearly?


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s good enough, I suppose,¡± Matthias told her after they¡¯d finished yet another run-through of the motions. ¡°You¡¯re weak and lack any sort of tone. Practice these and it will help. We can move on to something more useful next time. You can come back again, can¡¯t you?¡±


    Ellette shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best.¡± She considered for a moment, wondering if she would be able to return. She never had much control over her dreams, though they did seem strongest during the nights of the full moon. ¡°I¡¯ll be able to come every night for the next week and a half, I think. I might have to skip a week or two, then I can come back again.¡±


    He nodded absently, as if considering this, and ran a hand through his hair. ¡°Yeah, sure. That¡¯ll work. I don¡¯t know how long I¡¯ll be able to keep doing this either. I¡¯ll see you tomorrow night, then?


    ¡°I think so.¡± She rubbed absently at the back of her neck. ¡°Thank you for this, Matthias. If I don¡¯t make it back here, it¡¯s not because I don¡¯t appreciate you. Things are just... a bit complicated in my life.¡±


    He barked out a bitter sort of laugh. ¡°Tell me about it. I¡¯m filling my free time teaching you because I don¡¯t think I¡¯d know what to do with myself otherwise. It¡¯s a rare stretch in my life seemingly free of the usual chaos.¡±


    ¡°Lucky me,¡± she said with a bittersweet smile. She knew the feeling, at least in part. Rare were the days that she wasn¡¯t struggling just to survive.

 6.3 - Ebb and Flow

    Much to her delight, Ellette found her way back to Matthias each night. By night she trained, and by day she practiced what she¡¯d learned. It felt good to feel like she was part of something, that there was a point to the daily grind beyond simple survival.


    So much of what she did each and every day was to keep Dani safe and fed. Having something to do besides work, was strangely satisfying. Dani had noticed as well, bemused at the lightening of Ellette¡¯s mood, delighted at her newfound drive.


    ¡°What has gotten into you?¡± Dani asked one evening, carefully reheating and portioning out the meal of leftovers from the diner where Ellette worked, washing dishes. ¡°Doing tai chi with the old folks in the park is not something I¡¯d imagine you taking up.¡±


    Ellette shrugged and tapped her pen absently on her journal, working to remember what she¡¯d come up with during her shift. It was always a challenge to remember all the random bits of prose she came up with while working through the mindless routines of the day. ¡°I¡¯m on my feet all day, my back gets sore. Figured I should do something to build up a bit of muscle. If old folks can handle tai chi, so can I. It¡¯s harder than it looks, though!¡±


    Dani laughed and brought the meal to the table. It was a casserole of scraps: some mac and cheese, a few hunks of dried out meatloaf, broccoli that had started to turn, mixup and baked together with breadcrumbs, eggs, and milk. Dani sat a woefully light bottle of ketchup on the table, their requisite sauce for such meals.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure it is,¡± Dani laughed again. ¡°I¡¯m going to drop by your work tomorrow after I get paid. Actually buy something and tell Mr. Jefferies thank you for letting you take things home. Talk about comfort food!¡±


    ¡°How are you liking the new job? Not too difficult?¡±


    ¡°Janet is super nice and lets me sit at the register. The fact that I already have a few regulars who love to chat with me probably doesn¡¯t hurt.¡± The petite, blue-eyed blonde gave her a wink. ¡°They tip well, too,¡± she giggled.


    Ellette shook her head and sighed. ¡°Just be careful. If any of them bother you outside of work, let me know.¡± It was suddenly clear how important it was to learn the skills that Matthias had been teaching her.


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯ll be fine. It¡¯s mostly older gentlemen who come in for their coffee and newspaper.¡±


    Ellette tapped Dani on the nose. ¡°You are too cute for your own good. You still have your pepper spray? Keeping that burner phone charged?¡±


    Dani rolled her eyes. ¡°Of course, but I¡¯m not stupid. You know I grew up dealing with the same shit you did.¡±


    Ellette raised a brow, not daring to correct her. It was true, they had both led hard lives, but she knew that Dani had been somewhat sheltered. She was sweetly doll-like, and as long as Ellette had been able to, she¡¯d protected her from the harsher realities.


    ***


    Ellette glanced up at the waning moon, wondering how many nights she had left. Her time spent with Matthias had been truly unique. Never had she been able to dream of the same place for so long. The chime of the bell on the door was comfortingly familiar as she entered the little dojo and kicked off her shoes and socks. She was already moving across the polished wooden floorboards, working through her warm-up routine when Matthais joined her, arms crossed as he watched each of her movements. Stolen story; please report.


    When she was done, she turned to him, surprised to find a scowl on his youthful features. Her heart picked up its pace, the sudden, almost instinctual anxiety and fear of disapproval from someone whose approval she¡¯d worked so hard to gain causing her to falter.


    ¡°What? What is it?¡± she asked, wondering what she could have possibly done wrong. ¡°I thought you would want me to-¡±


    ¡°Ellette, who exactly are you?¡±


    Her stomach dropped. This little escape, the thrill of learning something new, it was over. She had no answer for him. Nothing he would like. Nothing she could fully explain. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what you¡¯re asking. I told you, my life is complicated--¡±


    ¡°No. Where are you from? Where do you go when you leave here? The last two nights, I had someone follow you--¡±


    ¡°You what?¡± she exclaimed, though the outrage was somewhat feigned. She¡¯d known he¡¯d been growing suspicious. She always skirted around personal questions. Yet, so did he. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t go prying into your life, why would you follow me?¡±


    Matthias ran a hand through his hair and turned from her, looking at least a little chastised. ¡°It wasn¡¯t my idea. Gabe got suspicious. He¡¯s been asking about you.¡±


    ¡°Gabe?¡± Had he ever mentioned a Gabe? She couldn¡¯t remember. It had been all she could do to remember all the details of what he¡¯d taught her. She was always exhausted by the end, mentally and physically.


    ¡°My bodyguard. He can¡¯t find anything on you, and he¡¯s followed you twice now.¡± He narrowed his eyes, voice low. ¡°No one just disappears like you did, not when Gabe is following them.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Ellette responded, all too aware that she had worn out her welcome. ¡°Well, considering I had no idea you had a bodyguard or that I was being followed--¡±


    ¡°Listen, Ellette, I like you. I don¡¯t know how you managed to evade Gabe, but from my perspective, it doesn¡¯t look good. You understand that, right? I tried to look you up myself, and you¡¯re a ghost. I want to believe you had a good reason to lie. That you meant no harm.¡± He shook his head and sighed. ¡°But I can¡¯t have you coming back here.¡±


    Ellette stood stunned for a moment, knowing it was her cue to leave, yet unable to convince her feet to move. ¡°Matthias,¡± she stammered, staring at this boy she¡¯d grown to know, to like, and trust. He was a figment of her mind, though wasn¡¯t he? Just a dream, right? Yet part of her knew he was real. All of this was all too real. And she was about to lose him, his friendship, and the unexpected nature of it hurt. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Matthias. I appreciate you. Everything you taught me.¡±


    He took a deep breath and nodded, fist clenching and unclenching at his sides. ¡°You need to go, Elllette. For your own good.¡±


    There was nothing more she could do or say. She had no explanation for him. No answer that would satisfy him or this bodyguard of his. She had a feeling that he was buying her time, that he had meant all he¡¯d said. Tears burned in her eyes as she shoved her feet into her shoes and reached for the door. She blinked rapidly before turning back to take in the little room once more. The mirrored wall, the highly polished floor, the well cared for equipment, and the smell of sweat, cut by the aroma of tea that she knew was brewing in the back room. And then, there was Matthias, slender, blond, and deceptively pretty.


    ¡°Thank you, Matthias. I wish I could explain,¡± she tried, knowing it was futile. ¡°Just, thank you.¡±


    ¡°Gabe will be here any minute,¡± was all he said, unwilling to meet her gaze.


    She hated that she had, however inadvertently, betrayed his trust. Over the last couple of weeks, it had become clear that they were kindred spirits of a sort. They shared little, but there was an understanding there, of trauma, hardship, loneliness. Ellette took one last look at him before pushing open the door and disappearing into the heat of a glorious summer night. The jingle of the door closing behind her rang with a note of finality, and she knew it was the last time she would ever hear it.


    ***


    Ellette woke to tightness in her chest and the burn of unshed tears. She took a ragged breath and turned to find Dani watching her, head propped up on her arm, large blue eyes heavy-lidded.


    ¡°You okay?¡± Dani asked sleepily. ¡°You were muttering in your sleep.¡±


    Ellette took a deep breath and nodded, wiping at her face. ¡°Bad dream.¡± She blinked and let out a little ragged laugh. ¡°It¡¯s like I lost a friend.¡±

 7 - Try

    Try


    Life had been a challenge of late. She was desperately lonely despite the friends she''d acquired over the last year. With her internal barriers, it was painfully hard to let them in. Isolation had been a defense for so long.


    Now, though, Ellette ached for that connection more than ever, in a way she''d never thought possible. Friendships she''d always been open to. Trust was something she''d never entirely lost. Yet intimacy, closeness and truly letting someone in, that she had done only once over the last decade of her young life. That instance had not ended well.


    The slow, steady footsteps rang with familiarity, yet she didn''t open her eyes. She would let him come to her. He always did.


    He crouched down beside her, wordlessly. The warmth of his form next to hers flared the desire she was struggling so vainly with. She shook her head, anger rising in her. She childishly wanted to strike out at him, to hurt him for the frustration his very presence caused her.


    Instead, she sighed and stiffened. "Do you need something, Rand?" She kept her eyes averted, choosing instead to watch the ducks as they bobbed and paddled on the lily strewn surface of the pond before her.


    He shook his head, shaggy hair falling into his face. He brushed the errant locks back with those scarred and haggard hands of his. She hadn''t even realized she had turned to watch him, his familiar gestures causing a flutter in her chest. She grit her teeth and turned back to the pond, though the birds held little interest for her. Rand''s quirks and idiosyncrasies held far more appeal.


    "Just checking in on you," he murmured, his voice a kindly rumble. Always so damned patient.


    She could feel his gaze on her and a warmth rose to her cheeks.


    "I was about to go out shopping," he continued. "I was hoping you might join me. Pick something out you like." The last two were more questions than statements, a cautious hope in his tone.


    A warmth encircled her cold fingers where they rested on the damp grass. She jumped despite herself and stared down at the hand that held her own. She wanted to pull away, and barely resisted doing so. It would only hurt him.


    As much as her irrational side wanted to do just that, she knew she would regret it. Instead, she slipped her fingers from his grasp and put her hand on his shoulder as she climbed to her feet. She gave his shoulder a squeeze before straightening.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "Sure," she replied. He''d been trying to get her to the farmer''s market for ages now. "I''ve been wanting to see these freakshow veggie stands you''ve been collecting oddities from." It felt good to tease him, to remember they were friends.


    He chuckled and got up. "Good! I got a bonus on my last check. I want to stock up, so having another person to help carry the load home..."


    "You just want a pack mule?"


    He patted her playfully on the back. "Yes, and I want your company."


    His hand lingered, and she stiffened, finding it hard to not snap back. The warmth of his palm slid from her back to her shoulder, settling there. So carefully casual he was with each subtle advance. He guided her from the grassy knoll and out onto the path.


    Casual or not, careful or not, each touch overwhelmed, overstimulated, and terrified her. She pushed down the fear and breathed. It wasn''t his fault. He didn''t know.


    The market was a bustling street affair. Tables and canopies to guard their wares from the growing heat of the day made up the variety of stalls. It was only a few blocks from their rundown, old town apartment. She''d always found it bitterly amusing how these events drew the uptowners and their well-lined pockets to the edge of the slums. Such was the way of the city. Everyone lived on top of each other. Million-dollar houses lined the lake mere blocks from the projects where sirens and gunshots were a regular nightly serenade.


    Rand busily filled his canvas bags with vegetables, some of which she recognized, others she didn''t. She gravitated towards a stand with a sparse sampling of early season fruits. A mottled greenish looking orb caught her attention. She picked it up turning it in her hand. It was firm, glossy, and plump.


    "Would you like to try some?"


    She started. The voice belonged to a dark and wizened woman sitting behind the table. Her wildly curling hair was held back by a scarf, her eyes dark yet bright. Gnarled fingers held a ripe, green fruit, much like the one Ellette had been inspecting. With a small knife, the woman deftly cut the fruit into chunks, holding one out on the tip of the blade. The flesh was a dark red, startling against the pale green of the skin. A large, dark droplet of juice formed along the edge and slid down the blade. Ellette found herself staring at the offered piece. It was both gruesome and enticing.


    "Go on, try it. You''ll never know if you like it if you don''t try."


    Ellette nodded and forced a smile as she took the small triangle. "Thank you," she said as she put it into her mouth. It was surprisingly sweet. She pondered as she chewed, the woman''s simple words struck a chord in her. How would she know what she was missing if she didn''t try? She smiled. "Can I have a pound of these? They''re really good."


    The woman nodded, gathering up a few choice green spheres into a bag and placed it on the scale. "They''re pluots. These are an early-season variety. Come back later in the season and you''ll find they come in many colors and types, all just as sweet."


    "I like these."


    "Good, good," murmured the woman. "That''ll be two-fifty."


    Ellette dug her hand into her pocket, fishing out a couple of bills. "Thanks again for the sample."


    "Of course," beamed the woman. "I hope we''ll see you again next week."


    Ellette only nodded and turned to find Rand in the bustle of the crowd.

 8 - Crippled as They Were

    Ellette bit into the sweet, crisp fruit, the juice dripping down her arm. As she moved to lick the sticky goodness from her forearm, a cloth intercepted the liquid. She stuck her tongue out at Rand, the bearer of the offending cloth.


    He gave her one of his charming smiles before shaking a finger at her. ¡°You¡¯re twenty-five, not ten. Let¡¯s try and act it.¡±


    She rolled her eyes, shoving down the tell-tale flutter in her chest. Childish irritation always seemed to come along with the first crush feelings he brought out in her. She finished the plum with relish and snagged the hankie from him to wipe her hands clean. She shoved the cloth, now streaked with pinkish stains, back in his pocket.


    They walked in silence along the farmer¡¯s market, lit by paper lanterns and street lamps. Though the street was patched and filled with potholes, when closed off and crowded with people and booths, it became a magical summer¡¯s eve festival. As if he sensed her lightened mood, Rand reached out and caught her hand.


    She tensed, her fingers twitching as she resisted the urge to ball them into a fist and pull away. Despite her reluctance, her not-so-subtle resistance to his advances, he still hadn¡¯t gotten the hint. Not that she wanted him to.


    Their trips to the farmer¡¯s market had become a weekly outing, even if only to collect a few choice tomatoes or a single onion. Through the early spring, the pickings were thin, but as the season picked up, the selection of both produce and markets to choose from increased substantially. As the fairs grew, so did the subtle intimacy of their relationship. Despite her growing ease, the strain was still there. She wondered if she would ever be comfortable with the idea she and Rand becoming more than roommates; more than friends.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go watch the band,¡± he urged.


    She nodded, stumbling along after him, drawn along as she had been for months now, on an inevitable journey.


    Wooden benches lined a permanent amphitheater in the middle of the square, the stage lined with swirling mosaics that glimmered in the lamplight. Rand pulled her down next to him, setting the produce bag at their feet and producing a couple of churros. She snuggled into his warmth, shoving back the flash of memories, the fear that clenched in her, a gut reaction to any sort of human touch. This, she had initialized, this was her choice.


    To her delight, a mutual friend of theirs took the stage. Wild haired and petite, Jessie was a treat to watch; her songs cooky and original. She was a wiz with the guitar, pulling out classics upon request and her own colorful originals one after another. After an hour long set, she bounded from the stage amongst hoots and hollers from the crowd.


    As the crowd dispersed, she made her way to the pair still sitting on the benches. Rand had his feet propped up on the bench before him. Ellette had hers curled up under her, still leaning into him, savoring the warmth as the night air grew chill. Battered old guitar in hand, Jessie stood before them, head cocked.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°What¡¯s this then?¡± she asked, gesturing with her free hand. ¡°Getting all cozy now?¡±


    Ellette pulled back at that, as if suddenly aware of the intimacy she and Rand shared. Before she could speak, before she could respond, Jessie started again.


    ¡°No, no, don¡¯t mind me. Just never thought it would happen,¡± Jessie clarified with her not-so-endearing bluntness.


    Ellette shook her head and stood, trembling with the anger the tiny woman often brought out in her. Jessie was too damned perceptive, she felt violated. ¡°And what do you mean by that?¡± she snapped.


    Jessie shrugged. ¡°Oh come on. I¡¯ve watched him tiptoeing around you for months now. Folks may be polite, but we ain¡¯t blind.¡±


    Rand stood, placing a hand on Ellette¡¯s shoulder. She flinched away, her eyes downcast. He sighed. ¡°Jess, don¡¯t...¡± he pleaded.


    ¡°What? You going to chase her around like this forever?¡± Jessie turned on Ellette then. ¡°You¡¯re not the mystery you think you are. I know what you¡¯re afraid to tell him. Give our Rand here some credit. I¡¯m sure he¡¯s figured it out too.¡±


    Ellette froze, hiding within her silence was her defense. If she didn¡¯t speak, she didn¡¯t have to think.


    ¡°Jess, I think you should go,¡± Rand growled.


    Ellette barely heard him. She was carefully constructing the wall of black, the barriers to prevent those ever-present memories from slipping in. The rush of nothing, swirling around her was cool and refreshing. Eventually, the moon broke through, bringing a luminous quality to her silence. A sort of peace followed, and she felt truly safe. Safe enough to open her eyes. How long she had stood like that, lost in her own mind, she wasn¡¯t sure.


    She found Rand settled back on the bench, his head in his haggard, scarred hands. She loved those hands, as crippled as they were. They were the everlasting symbol of what had brought them together. With a sigh, she knelt and pulled his hands from his face.


    He sat up abruptly, startled.


    She smiled up at him, his hands still in hers. ¡°I think we should talk.¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°Not if you don¡¯t want...¡±


    She laughed, a pained sort of hiccup. ¡°No, I need to. At least, I think I do.¡± She¡¯d hidden behind her silence for so long. It was safe, yet it was not a comfort. ¡°I don¡¯t know if we can ever be more than we are right now.¡±


    He cupped her cheek and leaned down to kiss her forehead. ¡°I know,¡± he said softly. ¡°I can wait.¡±


    ¡°What do you know?¡± her voice trembled. ¡°You don¡¯t know anything about me, only this,¡± she gestured at herself, ¡°this... I don¡¯t know. This idea you have that I¡¯m some kind of hero for helping you...¡±


    He laughed and ruffled her hair. ¡°You¡¯ve slept on my couch for the better part of a year. I¡¯ve seen you at your worst and at your best.¡± He paused, and she fidgeted, refusing to meet his eye from where she crouched before him. ¡°During my recovery, I worked at a homeless center... before I found you again. I can¡¯t pretend to know what you¡¯ve been through, but I recognize some of the signs. I won¡¯t assume, Ellette. But Jessie was right. I¡¯m not blind.¡±


    ¡°Okay,¡± she replied softly. Another long moment passed between them before she lifted her gaze to meet his. ¡°I think, I think this is enough for now,¡± she gave him another shaky smile, and he nodded, getting to his feet. He reached out his hand and helped her up.

 9.1 - Satans Ghost

    She waited, her breath catching in her throat. It was only a matter of time. The tension grew in her stomach, and she listened to the hum of a vehicle passing by on the street outside the window. Sitting up, she pulled the blanket up to her chin, watching the shadows shift across the doorway as the car''s headlights passed. The sounds of the house grew louder in the following silence, the tick, tick, tick of the old clock on the wall, the hum of the refrigerator''s motor kicking on.


    Then she heard it. What she had anticipated and dreaded: the creak of bedsprings, the shuffling footsteps. She wouldn''t have much longer to wait. Turning to the small form beside her, she took the girl by the shoulder and shook her firmly.


    "Satan''s ghost is coming," she whispered. The blonde''s eyes flew open, staring widely at the older girl. The brunette gave her an encouraging nod, and she leaped from bed, bolting for the closet.


    The footfalls were unsteady. From the way they''d carried on earlier in the night, she''d half hoped he wouldn''t make it to their room tonight. She stared at those flickering shadows, stilling herself as they shifted again, adjusting to the contour of a figure in the doorway. A dog barked down the street, and she inhaled, closing her eyes.


    His breathing was labored, and she could smell the whisky and cigarettes already. The heavy footfalls that followed made the wooden floorboards protest, muffled by the threadbare rug. She could feel his warmth as he approached the side of the bed.


    "Waiting up for me?" His voice was breathy, barely audible. She nodded, faintly, keeping her eyes closed, her blankets clenched to her chest.


    ***


    Ellette''s eyes flew open and she sat up with a gasp. That particular memory hadn''t come to her for quite some time. Not since she''d learned to escape in her dreams. She pulled her knees to her chin and sat wide-eyed, trying to shake the last lingering hints of that long-repressed horror. Her room in the worn, old farmhouse was veiled in gauzy shadows broken occasionally by the flicker of lights outside the window. She had to listen hard for any sound, eventually catching the lone cry of an owl. It was the wee hours of the night when everything was still.


    She felt like a ghost of herself, a fading echo. Straining, she listened for the soft rhythm of the others that lived in the house. Gloria snored, a roaring, almost disquieting sound, before rolling over and settling. There were no ticking clocks, no ominous footsteps. Those memories belonged to another life, to a girl she was no longer. Unable to sleep, she made her way groggily down the hall, to the sliding glass door and the little balcony beyond. The icy chill of the night air cut into her, but she relished the sobering whip of it against her cheeks.


    There was only a sliver of a moon tonight and it hung low in the west. Just a hint, a flicker of its pull, called to her. She was thankful it was so mild.


    What was it, she wondered, that had called such a memory to mind? Staring at that faintly glowing beacon, a ghost of a memory called to her. She gave the little thread a pull, letting the memory slowly unravel.


    ***


    There was a little girl whom the moon doted on. She lived with her mother, a sad and bitter woman, broken by time and the corrosive power of drink. They scraped out a living together, but the little girl knew there was something more. The moon told her so, each night.


    When she thought life would break her, when she could take no more, the moon shone down on her.


    ***


    "Having the dreams again?" Gloria asked, breaking Ellette''s trance. She''d known the old woman had been there, waiting from the doorway for some time. It was easier to ignore her when she was silent. Now, she''d forced Ellette into some interaction. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    Ellette only shook her head, still watching the moon hanging low in the distance, just over the ridge of trees. She loved the view, the vastness of the sky, the many twinkling stars here in the country.


    "You''ll catch your death out here, come on in," the older woman encouraged, grandmotherly as always. The girl stood motionless, giving no acknowledgment of the request. "Ellette. In. Now, dear. I need to shut this door." This time, was more demand than request.


    The pale, dark-haired girl complied. She shuffled back inside, shoulders hunched, eyes downcast. She was a waif, a wisp of a teen-aged girl, fairly tall, but nothing but skin and bones. Despite that, she was pretty in her way, if you could overlook those dark, haunted eyes.


    ***


    "I will give you a white dress, to show the world that you are pure, a child of the moon."


    She stared at the dress, as it formed over her slender form. The bodice was sleeveless and laced, a simple cut for a girl, not a child''s dress but not a woman''s either. The skirt was layered, silvery-white. The right side of the skirt was gathered up by a silk rose and ribbons. It was the most gorgeous clothing she''d ever laid eyes on. She''d never imagined so much as touching fabric of such quality, let alone wear it.


    "I...I can''t wear this!" she exclaimed. "What will mother or the people of the village say? They will say I stole it."


    "No, no, my child. You will journey to me, your grandmother, the moon. Follow me each night, until you come to my little house in the woods where we will live together with your sisters."


    ***


    "Are you keeping your journal?" Gloria asked. "It should help some, to get things out."


    Ellette only nodded. Answers or any interaction from her were rare. Gloria still continued on, as if her silent, reluctant response was perfectly normal.


    "Good. Do you think you can sleep?"


    Ellette only shrugged.


    "Well, let''s get you back to bed. Hopefully, sleep will come." Gloria urged, taking the girl by the arm, leading her back to her room. Just outside the little room, Ellette shared with another girl, she paused. "There will be a new girl coming tomorrow. I believe you two shared a home at some point."


    That caught Ellette''s attention. She glanced up to study Gloria''s features before feigning disinterest once more.


    "I''m glad we were able to talk," Gloria continued. "I didn''t want you to be surprised. Now get some sleep, love."


    ***


    "Journey at night? I am just a girl!"


    "By day you will be a girl, but at night, you are a wolf. The hunter, the guardian of the night."


    She laughed then, though she knew she should not laugh at her goddess. "I am no wolf..."


    "You will be, with my blessings, my dear. You must beware, though. Even as a wolf, there are those who will hunt you and wish to harm you."


    The little girl nodded, still in disbelief. "What will it be like, to be a wolf?" she whispered.


    "You will be beautiful, sleek, and swift. Silvery as the gown you wear. A shadow, a ghost slipping through the night, until you reach me. Your beloved grandmother. You will travel in wolf form, as if in a dream. Go to sleep as a girl, you will awaken as a wolf, to journey through the night."


    ***


    She went quietly to her bed, slipping beneath the sheets. Escape would not come tonight. There would be no moon drawn journeys, as much as she could use it. Her mind wandered over the possibilities, who the girl could be. She''d gone through several different homes over the years. From foster homes, group homes, and then back ''home'' again, she''d met many girls.


    Thinking over those faces, the myriad of personalities, the memories began to light up in her thoughts. After a while, the comforting network of reflections let her mind wander, and to finally slip into sleep.


    ***


    She nodded and curled up in the moon''s comforting glow. What the moon goddess had said was true. She awoke mere moments later as a wolf. Through the night she would run, guided by the moon, in her full glory.


    Each night, her travels were interrupted when she''d come across an animal in need. A little doe strayed too far from her herd, she would shoo the creature to her waiting companions. A squirrel frantically attempting to stuff acorns away for the winter was easily helped by her human hands, which appeared seamlessly and shifted back to a wolf''s paws when she was finished. They were always simple tasks, these little interruptions she''d encounter. Each one seemed to involve a lesson, a good deed done.

 9.2 Satans Ghost

    Breakfast was a chaotic affair. The five girls that lived in the house would fix their various meals and sit at the large table, in the breakfast nook, or on the counter. Ellette snagged her piece of toast with apricot jelly and her cup of coffee before escaping to the stool in the far corner. She would much rather escape outside or back to her room, but Gloria was very specific about her rules. Morning announcements after breakfast were one of the daily routines you did not skip.


    The girl Gloria ushered in was small, seemingly far too young for this home for older girls. She had a thick shock of blond hair, and much like Ellette was painfully thin. This girl, though was quite pretty in a traditional sense, with her large blue eyes, sandy blond hair, and fair freckled skin. Ellette watched her from her corner, stoically silent. She knew her, quite well, actually. The memories that she brought with her, though were among the many she''d fought to repress.


    "Everyone, this is Danielle, Dani for short. She''ll be staying with us. I expect you to show her the same respect you were given when you first arrived and to help her learn our routines..."


    The girl caught Ellette''s eye, flashing her a smile, and giving her a tentative wave as Gloria rambled on with the usual morning news and expectations for the day. Ellette glanced away, her face carefully disinterested, doing her best to not show any hint of recognition.


    ***


    Finally, she came to a sleek black wolf caught in a hunter''s trap. As she struggled to open the vice-like device, the wolf whispered of the hunter. He was after a princess, and a white wolf, the twin daughters of the moon. It was said that their blood could cure any ailments.


    The blood of the twin daughters of the moon? "How could that be? How could blood heal?"


    "That is simply the legend."


    The girl nodded and helped the wolf to escape, heeding its warning. Every step she took through the night in the forest was wrought with anxiety. Was he here? The hunter? He must not be far off if he''d caught the black wolf.


    ***


    Danielle caught up with her during the morning chores, a bubbly, chattering shadow. "So! how long you been here?" she asked. Ellette made no sound and simply went about raking the fallen leaves.


    "Gloria said you don''t talk. What happened?" she continued, persistently. Ellette only shrugged and continued raking.


    "I knew things were bad, but I had no idea..." Danielle continued shuffling her feet, kicking the leaves. "I went home, but things didn''t get better there, obviously. I''m here now."


    Ellette paused, watching her cautiously. She wanted to ask, but the part of her she was protecting, the part that hadn''t quite healed, didn''t want to know.


    ***


    Morning came, and she curled up her wolf form, to awaken as a girl. Normally she would collect food for herself and nap, waiting for the night, the moon to guide her. Not today, though. The hunter wasn''t only after a wolf. He was after the princess.


    She stared down at her beautiful white gown, still unmarred after all this time, all this travel. It would surely give her away, she thought nervously. Yet it had protected her over the course of her journey. And she had nothing else to wear.


    There was a howl in the distance, and she smiled. Wolves held no fear for her. They were fellow children of the moon. Perhaps this one was her brother, the black wolf she''d helped earlier. A dark form, like a flitting shadow, came bounding from the woods, and she smiled to find her brother had indeed come to visit.


    "Girl, you stand out like a beacon in that gown. You must remove it." It commanded with a growl. "The huntsman will surely find you."


    ***


    The girl persistently followed her for days, filling the silence that Ellette had previously languished in. At first, it was an annoyance, and she pointedly ignored the girl''s chatter. Despite all attempts to keep her distance, to stay safely self-contained, she was warming to her company.


    She''d always liked Danielle, and she was finding it hard to not enjoy the companionship. No one besides Gloria had even tried. For the first time in months, a smile would crack her features. It was only for the briefest, hesitant moment at first. It wasn''t long though until the girl had coaxed words and laughter from her old friend.


    When they''d lived together at that home, some time ago, it had been a dark and frightening existence. Yet, they''d had each other. Ellette, being the older of the two, had taken Danielle under her wing. When things got bad, she would take the blame, be the distraction, the scapegoat.


    It was as if now, when she needed rescuing, Danielle had come to return the favor of long ago. To draw Ellette out into the world of the living once more. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ***


    "The moon goddess gave me this dress to wear, I cannot!" She exclaimed. "But perhaps... you are right." She considered after a moment. She slipped out of the gorgeous gown and shivered in her thin shift, her long white legs and slender arms exposed to the cold and elements. Gooseflesh rose up all over her, and she trembled slightly. "What now wolf? I will freeze."


    "Fold the gown up, place it in a nook of a tree. Then come with me to my den. I will keep you warm." She nodded, and obeyed, following the wolf through the woods. He glanced back at her, and she realized she still held the gown clutched to her chest. "Leave it. you can retrieve it come night." He growled.


    She nodded, finding a particularly memorable tree to slip the gown into. The wolf gave a nod and continued on for a short distance. Before them was a rather large cave entrance, and she hurried into the protection of its walls.


    ***


    "It''s good to see you coming out of your shell," Gloria commented. It was their weekly session.


    Ellette found herself smiling. She''d not felt comfortable in her own skin for so long. It was nice, a welcome change. The waking world had been nothing but a dream to her up until lately. Working through the motions of the daily routines, it was all a blur, she barely registered or acknowledged her surroundings. It had been a dull, gray reality.


    Dreams, they had been more real to her than the waking world. When the moon was full and strong in the sky, she''d be called into the most vivid, engaging dreams. Always the rescuer, the vigilante of the night. In these dreams, she felt as if she was making a difference. It was the only time in her life in which she seemed to have control. That her actions mattered.


    Now, though, with little Danielle as her constant companion, life held appeal once more. She let the smile stay in place. "It''s nice here," she replied, her voice soft from disuse.


    "It''s lovely to have you here," Gloria replied, a smile blooming across her plump, weathered features. "Keep writing in your journal, and enjoy your time with Danielle. That''s all I ask." She added, "you are such a joy to have here, Ellette, I hope you know. You never make a fuss, you always do your chores, and..." she gave her a knowing smile, "you''re quiet as a mouse."


    Ellette rolled her eyes, but the faint smile still softened her expression.


    ***


    She stood in the dark entrance of the cave, only to realize a small fire was burning there. The wolf was at her back and the huntsman at her front. She spun, ready to escape, but the wolf leaped up at her, snapping and gnashing its teeth.


    She felt the firm grip of a hand on her arm. The huntsman had her. Shivering and terrified, he held her still. "Don''t worry, little princess," he whispered in her ear.


    "What do you want from me?" she asked, terrified.


    "Why, your blood," he answered, simply. "Didn''t the wolf tell you?"


    She nodded, grimly silent as he pulled her back into the cave and bound her hands. He sat her beside the fire, warming her goose-pimpled skin, yet her heart was cold with fear. She watched him, fearfully, ready to see a knife, a blade of some kind. Yet none appeared. Instead, he pushed her back against the straw mattress.


    "You are pure and white as the snow, little moon princess," he whispered, admiring her slender white limbs, barely kissed by the slightest hints of color.


    She bled, and though he used no knife. He broke her in a way she''d not known possible. She became a sliver of the moon girl she''d once been.


    ***


    "You remember what we used to say?" Danielle bounced along Ellette''s side. The older girl only shook her head. The little blonde grinned and stood on tiptoes to whisper in Ellette''s ear. "Satan''s ghost."


    Ellette shuddered and gave the younger girl a hard look. "Don''t say that," she snapped.


    "Why not?" Danielle whimpered, cowering in the wake of her Ellette''s reproach. "It was only a game."


    Ellette sighed, turning to the younger girl. "It was not a game." Her words were faint, pained. ''Satan''s ghost,'' that had been their code-word. She''d taught little Dani that when Satan''s ghost crept into their room at night he would possess them.


    Ellette was an archangel, Dani''s savior and protector. When she whispered ''Satan''s ghost,'' the little girl was to slip into the closet, into the secret little crawlspace they''d discovered. It had worked, she had sheltered the younger girl from the abuse, from the torment.


    But for her, it was not a child''s game. Satan''s ghost was all too real.


    ***


    Night fell, and she changed to her wolf form, bolting from the huntsman''s cave. She rushed to the tree with the gown, her last possession in all the world. As she stared up at the nook where a silvery-white cloth should have just barely peeked out, she saw only red. Deep red.


    She reached up, shifting to her girl form once more, and unfolded the gown. The silver gown was tarnished and dull, wrapped in a red mantle. She slipped the clothes on and glanced up at the moon. It was full, heavy, and red. She hurried on her way, a ghostly shadow wolf, flitting through the woods.


    She reached the moon goddess'' home as the dawn broke. There she lived, with the goddess, her doting grandmother, and her five sisters. There she was loved, there she was cared for, though she was no longer innocent, no longer pure.


    ***


    Ellette sat up late, pouring over her journal, the story which was written there. She put the finishing lines to the tale and sat chewing on her pencil. After a moment''s consideration, she decided to add a footnote to give it closure, as the story had done for her.


    It read as follows:


    As a child, I escaped into fantasy, as do all children. After a steady diet of fairy tales fed to me by doting social workers trying to be motherly, I couldn''t help it. The Disney versions, though, were too contrived, too happy, too... unreal. I much preferred the dark, old folk tales.


    I don''t know where I got this particular story from, but it''s still so utterly vivid in my mind. It''s in some, vague way, little red riding hood. Twisted and distorted to fit the needs and whims of my equally distorted and twisted psyche. I felt the need to write it down now, to give it life in its own way. Maybe now that it''s down on paper it will stop haunting the dim corners of my mind.

 10 - First Kiss

    Though Ellette was a secretive person, she was adaptable. Living in another person''s space, with other people, was simply part of her life. Her secrets were internal, her privacy the black spaces in her own mind, her escape the realm of sleep. Living on Rand''s pull out couch for the better part of a year wasn''t the easiest of arrangements, but it worked for them.


    Even so, she rarely trespassed on the privacy of his sanctuary, his room, unless invited. The kitchen, the living room, and of course the bathroom, were shared territory. His small single room was his and his alone.


    When she stood in the doorway to speak to him, she fidgeted nervously.


    "We really should get a larger place." He was saying as he folded and put away clothes. Her clothing occupied the drawers of the massive, wheeled coffee table. She nodded absently, her eyes darting around the room, then back down to her feet. "I''ve got enough saved up for a deposit, and your work is steady enough, we should be able to afford it," he continued.


    She had to admit, she was relieved he wasn''t suggesting she get her own place. "Yeah, but I like it here..." she muttered, shifting from foot to foot.


    "You have no space of your own, it¡¯s not fair," he turned to her.


    She leaned on the doorway, avoiding eye contact.


    "Ellette?" he prompted.


    She shook her head, the idea of change scared her. This tiny apartment was safe, she was content here. "I don''t mind."


    Rand sighed and sat on the bed, patting the spot next to him.


    She hesitated.


    "Come on, come sit." he coaxed.


    She shook her head.


    He got to his feet and went to her, pulling her into the room by a hand. He settled back onto the bed but left her standing. She shifted, raising her gaze to the chest of drawers and the photos that lined the top of it. Rand''s past life was documented there: A younger Rand, hair cropped short with a little boy in his arms; he and a beautiful young woman at the grand canyon; an older woman that resembled Rand in the eyes; and a large photo of a round-faced baby.


    How he could stand to look at any of them was beyond her. The boy and young woman were gone, one dead, one estranged. The older woman Ellette assumed was his mother, but she didn''t dare ask. She sighed heavily and dropped her eyes again, sitting down on the edge of the bed.


    "I don''t want to... I don''t want to jinx it, us," she explained after a while.


    "Well, I''ve had my eye out for a new place, but I won''t make a move until you''re ready. No pressure, but you will come look if I find one I like, right?"


    She nodded and let herself fall back on the bed, staring up at the cracked ceiling. "You know, the dreams have all but stopped," she said softly. "I kind of like it." A change of subject seemed to be in order.


    He stared down at her silently. She closed her eyes, her hands folded on her stomach.


    "Oh?" he said after a long moment.


    She nodded, and the silence stretched between them. "Yeah, it''s kind of peaceful to just sleep. Though, I do know better." She sighed. "I know better than to hope that this is permanent. I know it won''t go away that easily..."


    The warmth of his hand encircled hers. "I''ll be here to watch over you." His voice was soft, and he hesitated to add, "as long as you''re here."


    She sat up and threw her arms around him. Face buried into his chest, she fought down the thunder of her heart and did her best not to flinch when his hands settled gently on her back. Everywhere he touched burned with heat, but in a good way, and she let herself relax into his embrace. It hurt to breathe but otherwise felt good.


    Rand was gentle, she could trust him. She knew it implicitly, but there were things she needed to tell him. Triggers he would need to know. Luckily, simply because of his cautious nature, said triggers had not been an issue, and she highly doubted they would be. She never imagined him being rough with her, being like him.


    The therapists had told her how to deal with such things, she''d heard all about it in group, but she had never thought she''d heal enough to reach this point. Healing what was broken within her had never seemed possible. She''d never imagined finding someone who would make her feel this way.


    He stroked her hair, and she shivered. His hand froze in mid-motion, settling back safely on her back. She smiled into his chest, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. She only held onto him tighter. Her past, the memories wouldn''t steal this from her. There were new memories in the making, and these would be happy. She was determined.


    After a long while of inhaling the clean scent of his clothes, the slight musk of his skin, the tears receded and she relaxed fully into his embrace. The slow, calming, circular motion of his warm hand on her back did not cause her to shiver or flinch. She pulled away slightly to stare up at his face, to ponder the features and urges she''d struggled with for some time now. She wanted to kiss those lips, but fear, anxiety, and profound inexperience held her back.


    He''d been married, had a child, had so much more life experience than she. She was a soiled, tarnished wisp of a thing: skinny, awkward, and so very broken. Would he laugh at her clumsy kiss? Sure she''d been kissed, but rarely by choice and never by someone she cared for. Not in this way. Kisses led to sex, or so the media had told her. Experience told her that sex was intrinsically linked to violence. She knew it wasn''t normal, that it wasn''t right, but she couldn''t help it. It was how she''d been trained.


    She fought down these thoughts and put her hand at the back of his neck, pulling ever so slightly to bring his head down to hers. He was so warm, so inviting, so strong in a way the ghost was not. Rand never smelled of alcohol, cigarettes, or mildew. His hands weren''t rough and dirty and cruel. His eyes weren''t an icy, hard blue that lusted for violence and to break her very soul. He wasn''t angry and loud and hateful. Rand was none of these things.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    But he was still a man, and so very close. She closed her eyes and their foreheads touched. She could feel his eyes on her, searching for the sign she didn''t know how to give. Was it okay? Would a kiss be too much? A violation of trust, or a strengthening of bonds?


    His fingers lighted on her cheek, exploring the skin in feather-soft motions. She leaned into the warmth of the gentle caress, tilting her face up to his even further. Surely their lips would touch any moment, she prayed that he''d take the next move. His breath was hot on her face and smelled of minty toothpaste. She smiled, and he took that as the sign.


    Warm and petal-soft, the moist caress of his lips on hers was just that: a soft caress, no more invasive than the fingers still lightly pressed to her cheek. Emotion crashed over her then, and she pulled him down again, hungry for more, smashing their lips together once more. Then with a gasp, she pulled fiercely back. The tears came in full force, and she hid her face in her hands.


    His hands were on her shoulders, his voice in her ears; pleading and begging, apologizing. She could only shake her head and flung herself into his arms once more. It was too much, but not as she had expected. There was no fear, no torment, no horror; just overwhelming emotion, undefinable, yet warm. She wasn''t wracked with sobs, not shuddering with terror, yet the tears still fell, like a dam had been opened.


    The rumble of his voice broke through in bits and pieces. She eventually realized he was singing as he stroked her back.


    "What are you singing?" she asked, her voice muffled in the cloth of his shirt.


    He laughed softly, relieved. "A song I used to sing to my son, a favorite of mine."


    She nodded and turned her head so her ear rested against his chest, listening to the thump of his heart.


    "Are you okay?"


    She nodded, feeling exhausted and yet relaxed. "Yeah, I''m sorry. I''m... I''m such a mess."


    He kissed the top of her head. "It''s fine, Ellette. I..." he trailed off, resting his cheek against the top of her head. She squeezed her eyes closed, doing her best to relish the moment.


    "I get overwhelmed," she managed finally. "But not... not in a bad way."


    They''d shared few such moments, the last being when she''d pulled him into the dreamworld. She''d been so exhausted, so her thoughts on survival. Most of all, her feelings for Rand had not fully manifested until that moment. They''d comforted one another, but they''d only been friends. Friends were safe. Friends and nothing more. It was the element of more that complicated things.


    "Let¡¯s go somewhere," Rand suggested after a while.


    Nearly lulled to sleep by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, she mumbled, "Like where?"


    He shrugged and loosed his arms from around her. She frowned, missing his warmth already.


    "A walk in the park? Get some ice cream?"


    She sighed as she pulled back from him, looking up into his face once more. He was undeniably handsome, eyes lined with dark, thick lashes, a strong nosed that she rather fancied, a dimpled chin, and those full lips. She felt rise to her cheeks as she realized she was staring at them, wondering if she was brave enough to attempt another taste of them.


    She looked away and climbed to her feet, "Ice cream would be nice, I''ll get my boots..." she paused in the doorway to glance back at him.


    He smiled at her, and her heart skipped a beat. She laughed and shook her head before moving to the living room.


    The park was crowded, as it often was on such warm, beautiful nights. Ellette was content to walk hand in hand with Rand, as they so often did of late. They went to the ice cream parlor down the street, on the more upscale side of the park. Children were screaming and playing in the arcade while their world-weary parents sat and gossiped.


    It was a trendy sort of place; they served dairy-free, soy-free, and other exotic ice cream concoctions along with a large selection of beers and wine. After staring at the menu for a good long time, Ellette decided on the sugary plum wine while Rand opted for the coconut mint cone. They sat on the large patio in the back where the twinkle of stars was barely visible past the glare of street lamps.


    "Want some?" Rand offered, a spoon full of ice cream held out to her.


    Ellette shook her head. "Don''t think it will go well with the wine..." she smiled, slowly savoring the dessert drink.


    "Didn''t know you liked wine."


    She shook her head. "I don''t really. Dani loved plum wine, though. She usually drank it with curry, her reasoning was that the alcohol cut through the spices."


    He nodded. "She was right, water wouldn''t do a thing, milk only helps a little, but alcohol will cool your tongue, guaranteed." He raised an eyebrow at her. "But we didn''t order anything spicy."


    She shrugged. "I saw it on the menu, made me think of her. I couldn''t resist."


    He studied the cone in front of him. It was beginning to melt around the edges, pooling in the paper cup he had set it upside down in, the cone sticking up at an angle. He rubbed his neck absently.


    Everything had gotten so awkward between them, every little thing provoked these uncomfortable silences. Ellette frowned and sipped at her drink, refusing to over-think it, to worry. "Besides, I thought I could stand to relax a little. I''ve been wound so tight lately." She added with a long sigh.


    They finished their deserts in silence. Once out on the street again, Ellette realized that the wine had gone to her head. She''d hardly eaten, she rarely did, and she never drank. Her cheeks burned as she took Rand''s arm to steady herself. She felt the fool, Rand had clearly wanted to say something, to caution her.


    "If we had a car, I''d suggest a drive. The night is so clear, it would be nice to get away from the lights to see the stars," Rand mused as they made their way back to their rundown apartment building.


    "The meadow, at the center of the park, is about the best option," Ellette added, wishing, not for the first time, she had her motorcycle.


    Without a word, he guided her onto the park path. The gravel crunched noisily beneath them, and she shivered in the shadow of the trees. Leeson Avenue Park wasn''t the safest of places at night, and she wondered at his courage coming here so late in the evening. She''d spent several nights in this place, but she was streetwise and desperately fearless. With Rand, though, she felt more cautious, knowing that it was no longer her life alone they were putting at risk.


    She clung to him more fiercely, fishing in her pocket for the comforting cool of the metal cylinder. Self-defense training and a bottle of pepper spray would only go so far in the real world. There was no waking up from this reality. "Are you sure?" she whispered, pausing as they left the lit walkway.


    His chuckle was a low, soft rumble. "My fearless heroine is afraid of a dark meadow?"


    She smiled up at him and he brushed her hair from her forehead, catching her cheek in a soft caress. She closed her eyes, leaning into his palm. "I''m afraid of something happening to you," she murmured before she could stop herself.


    "We''ll be fine," he reassured her with a kiss on the forehead and turned to pull her out into the clearing. The grass was already faintly moist, and when he sat down in the middle of the field, she hesitated once more. "I always loved stargazing as a kid," he told her.


    She crouched beside him.


    He shook his head at her and laid back on the dew damp grass. ¡°You can¡¯t enjoy the stars like that,¡± he told her, putting his hands behind his head.


    ¡°The grass is wet!¡±


    ¡°So?¡± He chuckled. ¡°You¡¯ve been through a lot worse than a wet backside.¡± He sat up, putting a hand on her shoulder, tentative at first. When she didn¡¯t resist, he drew her down onto the grass beside him. He cradled her head on his shoulder, half protecting her from the wet ground. Ellette sighed and let herself enjoy the moment. Being so near someone, a man especially, just a few years ago would have been too much. Rand, though, he was comfort. He was peace.


    Staring up at the sky, only half listening as Rand pointed out the faint constellations overhead, she wondered if she would heal enough to be with him in the way he wanted her to be. For the first time, it seemed possible. She sat up at this revelation. She wasn''t afraid of him, she wasn''t afraid of this. No, she needed this, she needed the chance to heal, to be normal.


    "What?" he asked, rising to his elbows as she sat staring into the trees.


    She shook her head and grinned, turning to him. "Nothing... well, something... but..." without hesitation, she leaned down and kissed him full on the lips. There was no backlash, no intense emotion. Just a kiss, and it felt amazing.

 11 - Need Help? Call.

    Ellette was exhausted. The heat always seemed to weigh her down. The cafe with its fans and misters, lined with lush foliage was a welcome retreat. She settled down at one of the quaint metal tables and noticed a card in the middle of it. It was plain white, nothing fancy. In black, block letters, it said ¡°Boris. Good Guy. Need help? Call.¡±


    Ellette ran her fingers over the ink and glanced around the cafe. The card was old fashioned in this modern age of laser printed, high gloss business cards. She found herself worrying at the corner of the card, fraying the high-quality fibers.


    She did indeed need help. She was on the verge of losing her apartment. She¡¯d sold off everything she could to the pawn shop down the street. Finding a job wasn¡¯t going well at all. But did she dare trust some random card?


    With a sigh, she waved the waiter over. As the skinny, high school-aged looking boy approached the table, she held up the card. ¡°Someone left this here, do you know anything about it?¡±


    The boy smiled, taking the card. ¡°Yeah, some creeper has been leaving these in all the shops up and down the street.¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    ¡°Oh,¡± she said. ¡°Well, thanks for letting me know. Um. What¡¯s the cheapest, halfway decent thing on the menu?¡±


    He pointed out a soup and sandwich combo. ¡°Short on cash, eh?¡± he asked, surprising her.


    Most waiters weren¡¯t happy to learn she wouldn¡¯t be giving much of a tip. She nodded.


    ¡°It¡¯s on me. You look like you could use it,¡± the boy said and turned back to the kitchen. She stared after him, stunned speechless.


    Much to her disappointment, an older woman brought out her meal. ¡°My waiter, from before... what was his name?¡±


    ¡°Um, what did he look like?¡± The woman chomped noisily at her gum.


    ¡°Tall, lanky, looked like he was maybe seventeen?¡±


    The woman shrugged. ¡°Dunno. A boy like that did pay for your meal though.¡±


    ¡°Oh, well, thanks...¡± Ellette stared down at her plate, and noticed, at the center of the table sat a card.


    She took the card, turning it over in her hands once more. Hadn''t the boy taken it from her?


    She considered the words written there.


    Need help?


    She sighed. She really did. Though she doubted she''d ever call the number printed there, she slipped the card into her wallet. It was suspicious at best, creepy at worst. It was a last resort. Or better yet, a simple reminder of a young man''s generosity when she''d needed it most.

 12- Perfect

    It was perfect; the location, the price, the size, and that bay window. He could see her perched in that window, musing, or writing. The other added benefit was the outrageously big kitchen. Sure it was rundown, sure it was in a so-called bad area of town, but it was the end of town they knew best. It was home.


    The woman showing him around smiled hopefully. "I''ll need to know ASAP. You''re lucky to have jumped on the listing so quickly. This is one of our most well cared for apartments. I''m so sad to see the old couple who lived here go." She was a wiry, older woman, but kindly enough.


    Rand laughed nervously and leaned against the door frame. "Well, I can''t promise my friend and I will be the tenants they were, but we really would love the place. I can put money down today if you''ll hold it."


    "If you have the deposit, I''ll hold it now for you, until your credit check goes through."


    "There''s one other thing, my roommate, I''d really like to surprise her with this. Can we wait to run her credit since I¡¯ll be co-signing for her anyway?"


    "Oh, Mr. Edhi, with the way Mr. Johnston spoke of you, the credit check is mainly a formality. I trust you wouldn''t be rooming with someone who will wreck the place."


    "Of course," Rand smiled. "So I suppose we could move in soon?"


    "Probably tomorrow," the woman beamed. "I''ll give you a call."


    ***


    Rand could barely contain his excitement as he worked to box up his room. He''d still not told Ellette. She had been fairly resistant to the idea, but he knew she''d love the place he''d found. She knew he''d been saving up, even looking for a place, but what she didn''t know was that he''d actually gotten one.


    Ellette was resistant to change. Despite the fact that he''d been boxing up non-essentials for some time, leaving circled listings on the coffee table and asking what she''d like in an apartment for weeks now, she still brushed off the subject just as soon as he''d brought it up. She liked their apartment. She liked the old, pull-out couch, despite the coils that were all but jutting through the mattress.


    He was excited and equally terrified. The only way he''d convince her was to show her the place he''d found. The only way to get her there was to surprise her. Plots and white lies churning in his mind, he folded, packed, and taped box after box.


    "Wow, you''ve been hard at work in here." Her voice came as a surprise, and he spun. He pushed the box he''d half-filled behind him on the bed, a guilty effort to hide the evidence. "Ah, yes. You know, getting ready to move..." he admitted reluctantly.


    Her eyes wouldn''t meet his, and she kicked at the threadbare carpet. "Seems you''ve gotten serious... soon you won''t have anything to wear," she muttered.


    "I''ve got enough out for a while. I just want to be prepared if one of the places I''ve looked into comes through. You''ve packed a couple of boxes at least, right?"


    She shrugged noncommittally. "Don''t have much. I''ll just toss it all into some bags if I have to..."


    "Well," he took her by the arm and steered her into the front room, "I have something I''d like to show you. You have plans tomorrow? I know you''ve got the day off, maybe we can have lunch? Go for a walk?"


    She raised her eyes to his, a hint of a smile crinkling the edges. "I''d like that, you have time off too?"


    "I traded for a night shift. Thought it''d be nice to spend the day with you."


    * * *


    The little bistro was charming, a familiar haunt for them both. Ellette had been rather fond of the place since a waiter had covered her lunch when she was down on her luck. Just a sandwich, but it had been the difference between going hungry for the day and having a full belly. The moment she''d had enough money to indulge in the luxury of dining out, she''d been a regular.


    Unfortunately, the boy, Boris, had found another job and she''d failed to find him again. The nostalgia, and the chance that he might still live in the area, drew her back time and time again.


    Rand stirred his lentil soup and watched her study each young man who entered the popular eatery. If he were the jealous type or didn''t know Ellette the way he did, he''d be fuming. She watched for this boy the way he''d hunted for her after their first meeting.


    After the lunch rush had slowed significantly, she was finally able to relax enough to dig into her sandwich, chewing slowly, thoughtfully. "So, what is it that you''re going to show me?" she asked to fill the silence that she''d finally noticed.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    "A surprise," he replied and sipped at his tea. The soup was long since finished, he was only waiting on her now.


    "Oh?"


    He grinned. "I have a blindfold and everything."


    "What?" she nearly choked on a bite of food.


    He shrugged. "When I say surprise, I mean surprise." Not to mention he didn''t want her to get wind of what it was before he''d managed to get her into the apartment. There was a good chance she''d run or refuse to even look. He couldn''t risk it.


    "And after the surprise, I think we should go somewhere out on the waterfront to celebrate. Maybe have some chowder? The weather is beginning to cool just enough for it."


    She raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "Celebrate?"


    He shrugged again and she bit into her sandwich once more. He was surprised she''d not started to protest. Surely she suspected. He hadn''t done much to hide his intentions. "So when do I have to put on the blindfold?"


    "When we get down to the park. Don''t want you guessing after that."


    She shook her head. "What would be down there that I wouldn''t already know?"


    "That''s the surprise."


    "You are seriously going to drag me through the streets with a blindfold?"


    "Yes," he added stubbornly. "Eat your sandwich."


    She laughed and did as she was told. And just as he''d promised, once they''d gotten to the northernmost corner of the park, he pulled out a purple-flowered scarf. She fingered it, smiling.


    "You can keep this afterward. And no, you won''t be able to see through it, I checked."


    "I was half expecting a plain black number."


    "Now that would be suspicious-looking, wouldn''t it?" he chuckled, tying the scarf in a firm knot behind her head. He stood before her, adjusting the scarf so it covered her eyes from brow to cheek. "No peeking."


    "Yes sir."


    The walk to the building was short, and he hoped that that fact didn''t give too much away. He did his best to keep her distracted with questions about work and plans for the slower autumn season.


    The elevator ride brought about a curious "Hmmm, where could we be?" and a short string of guesses, all wrong, though he answered each with a "maybe," or "seriously?" if it was too far into left field. By the time they were at the door of the apartment, they were both laughing at her creative suggestions.


    He fumbled with the keys, suddenly nervous as her brow furrowed. The door stuck, and he only just managed to get it open before the questions started. Guiding her into the all but empty, deceptively spacious, front room, he went to pull open the shades of the bay window before returning to her and unknotting the scarf. With a flourish, he unveiled his surprise.


    Her brow was furrowed still as she blinked at the light pouring in through that multi-paned window before her. She turned to him, cheeks reddened, hands clenched into fists.


    "What is this, Rand?" she asked, voice trembling.


    He shrugged and gave her a smile. "Do you like it?"


    She closed her dark lashed eyes and took a deep breath. "I don''t want to move, Rand."


    "You knew I was looking, we''ve talked..."


    "I don''t want to move!" She cut him off.


    He put a hand on her shoulder and she jerked away. "Just look around, see what you think."


    "I don''t care, Rand. I like our apartment, I like the way things are..."


    "You''re being ridiculous," he snapped. "We need a bigger place, and this is perfect. I''ve already put down the deposit."


    He went to the window and stared down at the street. "The lease is up at the old place at the end of the month. I''m moving next weekend, like it or not."


    She hadn''t moved from her spot, tears welling in her eyes. "I don''t want to leave, Rand. I love our apartment. I feel safe there," her voice trembled. "I can''t believe you did this. I don''t want to move, I''ve told you time and time again."


    "We need this, Ellette. You need this," he shook his head and walked past her, stiff and angry. He''d had enough, enough of her frailty, her resistance to the most subtle of change. He''d been patient, understanding, calm, collected. But this, this was the last straw. "This is your chance to look around. Take it or leave it. I''m going downstairs."


    She drifted towards the window, fingers lighting on the frame. She turned when she heard the door open, tears finally spilling onto her cheeks. "I don''t want things to change, Rand. Being with you, in that tiny apartment... it was the change I needed. I''m afraid we''ll lose something..."


    He sighed, ever empathic, ever protective of this child-like woman. "The only thing that will change is the setting, Ellette. You''ll have your own room. Your own space. That is all."


    She shook her head, wiping at her face. "No, you don''t understand. Change brings more change. Every time I''ve found a home, settled in, I''ve been ripped from it, and it has never for the better."


    He stood his ground by the doorway, refusing to coddle her.


    "This time can be different. You''ll never know unless you try," he turned back to the door. She would have to deal with this on her own. "Look around, see what you think." He slipped out the door and stood on the other side, back against the wall.


    He waited for about ten minutes before taking the elevator down to the lobby. It wasn''t much of a lobby, just a small sitting area with worn-out chairs and a graffitied table outside the door to the manager''s office. He sat in one of the chairs watching the foot traffic along the well-traveled street with a perfect view of the park. The same view that Ellette would have from the third story window.


    She found him sometime later, half asleep. He came around with her gentle touch to his shoulder. Her eyes were red, puffy, but she was composed. He stood and she leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered. "It''s perfect."


    He put his arms around her, thankful she''d come around. There were surely more hitches to come, broken as she was. But for now, they were making progress. They were moving on to their future together.

 13 - A Signal Shown

    ¡°Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing,


    Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness;


    So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another,


    Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.¡±


    -Henry Wadsworth Longfellow


    Ellette sat propped on pillows and cushions, staring out the picturesque bay window overlooking the park. Her journal sat in her lap, virtually untouched. Focus, inspiration, or even motivation was just not coming to her this afternoon. Her mind wandered, but not in its usual driven, non-linear way that produced so much of her writing. She hadn''t been able to write, and she hadn''t been able to dream. But, she was happy. Blissfully so.


    Despite her initial resistance to the move, she loved their new apartment. Most evenings found her curled up next to Rand, watching movies until she drifted off to sleep. The warmth of him, the comfort of his solid form, wound about hers was almost bittersweet. Yet, she wouldn''t trade it for the world. She had only known such companionship with Dani and had never expected to find it again and settle into this very normal, healthy relationship.


    A knock brought her out of her thoughts, a short warning before the door opened. "Ellette, I hope you don¡¯t mind. It was pouring out there, so I brought home a couple of friends from the park to dry off."


    Behind Rand came a soggy Jessie, a familiar sight in their new home. The third, lanky form, though was foreign, yet strangely familiar. Ellette found herself staring as Rand took the stranger¡¯s coat. "Would you mind getting a couple of towels?" Rand called to her, shaking her out of her trance.


    "Oh, yeah, right..." Ellette scrambled for the linen closet, fumbling through the towels to find their least stained and threadbare offerings. Rand took them happily, plopping one directly over Jessie''s soggy mass of curls. She was petite, almost tiny. It was hard not to treat her like a child when the opportunity struck. Ellette handed the last towel to the newcomer, the lanky boy, doing her best not to stare.


    "Your name wouldn''t happen to be Boris, would it?" she asked as he worked to dry his hair and hung the towel around his shoulders.


    "Yeah, it is." He gave her a slight quirk of a smile. "Do I know you?"


    ¡°I thought I recognized you. I doubt you¡¯ll remember me.¡± Ellette shrugged. "Though I''ve been wanting to thank."


    "Thank me? For what?" he laughed.


    His smile was contagious and she grinned back. "It''s silly, I know, but you bought me a sandwich, almost a year ago.."


    "Ah! I think I remember you now. From the cafe, right? Don''t mention it. I got everything half off on my tab anyway."


    "Way to cheapen the chivalrous gesture," Rand chimed in. He knew the story, though it was on from before their time together. "So this is the infamous Boris." He raised an eyebrow at Ellette. "So you found him. I suppose he wasn¡¯t some figment of a dream.¡±


    Boris glanced from the tall, dark, and wiry built Rand to the pale, willowy woman. "Wait, infamous...?"


    Jessie pulled the towel from her head before shrugging. Rand gave him a reassuring clap on the shoulder. "Just a joke between us. Make yourself at home."


    Ellette laughed and took Boris by the elbow, directing him to the worn-out couch draped with a sheet. "All this time I''d been hoping I''d run into you, and you found me. How did you meet Jessie and Rand anyway?"


    Boris settled on to the couch somewhat hesitantly. "I''m doing some research on buskers and street living. I''m more focused on those who actually live on the streets, but the buskers are a little easier to approach."


    Ellette chuckled and shook her head. ¡°Rand is approachable. Jessie not so much. Why exactly are you researching folks who live on the streets?¡±


    "School. College paper," he shrugged. "A study for social anthropology on subcultures and lifestyles within the city."


    "I mentioned to him that my roommate had lived on the streets for a while," Rand said as he joined them, settling on the arm of the couch next to Ellette. "He more or less invited himself along after we all got drenched."


    Ellette nodded, considering.


    The silence stretched between them, and Boris glanced between them. "It''s okay if you don''t want to share."


    She shook her head. "No, no, it''s fine. I''m really not much of a resource. I didn¡¯t live on the streets for long, thanks to Rand."


    Rand reached up and ruffled her hair. "Was only returning a favor."


    "Keeping the balance, eh?" Jessie commented, having finally wrung her hair out and settling into Ellette''s spot by the bay window. "Favor given, favor returned."


    Ellette laughed nervously. "If that were the case, I''d owe people all over the city. I wouldn¡¯t be here if the generosity of others." Her tone had grown softer, thoughtful.


    "Isn''t that why you were looking for me?" Boris asked. "To repay the debt?"


    She smiled, though her eyes didn''t meet his. "I just wanted to thank you. You left so suddenly.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t keep the card?¡± Boris asked. ¡°I¡¯d half expected a phone call.¡±


    ¡°You said it wasn¡¯t from you, but some creeper, I believe was the term you used,¡± she said with a grin.


    He laughed. ¡°Yeah, but you assumed my name was Boris just now, so it would seem you figured it out.¡±


    ¡°I just never knew,¡± she explained, ¡°It felt odd to call...¡±


    ¡°No worries. Had to change that number anyway. I lost my job over it, you know.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± Ellette gasped. ¡°Why, or how did you lose your job over it?¡±


    ¡°Well, you remember how I said people were complaining about these cards showing up, up and down the street? That part was true.¡±


    She laughed and went to the basket on the table that held an assortment of keys and other random items and found her wallet. ¡°I actually still have it. I don¡¯t know why I kept it,¡± she said, sifting through the contents to find it. ¡°I guess to remember a good deed done? It¡¯s funny. I always remembered you as Boris...¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re more intuitive than you realize.¡±


    Ellette studied him for a moment, feeling slightly disconcerted.


    Rand had taken the card from Ellette, flipping it over in his hands. "What exactly were you planning on doing with these? I mean, how could you really help people? Aren''t you a little young to be playing therapist?" Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    "I''d come into a decent amount of money from my father''s death and wanted to put it to good use. I figured anyone desperate enough to call a number on a card was worth talking to. I''m studying to become a psychologist, so this was my misguided attempt to do good before actually getting my degree."


    Boris took the card from Rand, studying it for a long moment. ¡°Lesson learned. The hard way,¡± he grinned. ¡°Now, you were going to tell me about your experiences, a little about your life, were you not?¡± He handed the card back to Ellette. Ellette raised a brow as she took the card, seeing that he¡¯d corrected the number. ¡°I¡¯m still a good guy,¡± he said with a wink. ¡°But not to worry, I¡¯m only after research,¡± he added, noticing the way Ellette had stiffened at the flirtation.


    ¡°I¡¯m bored over here!¡± Jessie announced. ¡°Can¡¯t we play already?¡±


    Rand turned to Ellette then. ¡°I promised Jessie I¡¯d help her learn some songs, some of the things I picked up on my last trip,¡± he explained. ¡°As long as you¡¯re comfortable entertaining Boris here, that is.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s fine,¡± she waved him off. ¡°Go play, entertain that wild woman.¡±


    Rand nodded and kissed her briefly on the cheek before heading to his room to find his instruments. ¡°Come on Jess, the acoustics aren¡¯t too bad in here.¡± He closing the door once the red-haired woman had joined him.


    Ellette sighed, watching Rand go before she turned back to Boris. ¡°Would you like some tea? Something to warm you up? We always have chai and a few herbal varieties.¡± The muted tones of Jessie¡¯s energetic voice drifted through the walls, followed by Rand¡¯s laughter and the strumming of guitars. ¡°At least with the door closed, they won¡¯t be too loud,¡± Ellette sighed.


    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s okay. No tea, thank you And I don¡¯t mind the music.¡± Boris replied, settling down on the end of the bench by the window that Ellette had vacated. He¡¯d produced a notepad and was tapping a pen against it thoughtfully. ¡°I suppose if you could tell me the basics of your story? Um, I guess if there is anyone else out there I might speak with that you could direct me to?¡±


    ¡°Anyone else out there, you mean regulars on the streets?¡± Ellette sighed and returned to the bench seat, sitting opposite of him. She pulled a blanket over her legs as she curled up, staring out the window. ¡°Ramon and his wife MaryJane I suppose are as good as any to start with. They¡¯re Natives, or First Nations, depending on which side of the border you¡¯re from. They hang out at the end of the park with the totem poles. They were always nice to me, parental. The whole group of folk that hang out with them, they watch out for each other. I don¡¯t know how much help they¡¯ll be to you though. Especially if you start asking questions.¡± Ellette sighed and traced lazy circles on the fogged glass before glancing back to Boris.


    He¡¯d hardly written a thing down, not that she was surprised. ¡°Listen, you¡¯ve got to just get out there and talk to people. Unless you¡¯re out there, unless you¡¯re begging for money or digging through dumpsters, you¡¯ll just be another college student, another tourist. I got to know people because even before I¡¯d lost my apartment, I¡¯d made my rounds. The shop owners, the good ones anyway, they knew me. I¡¯d do odd jobs for them for leftovers, day-old bread, that sort of thing. They liked me because I was young and willing to work. I managed to stay out of the worst of what goes on on the streets.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you something, though, unlike me, most those people had nowhere to go. There was almost always a shelter I could find my way into, as long as I was willing to ask. Before that, I had a place, but I was begging for all the extras, the bare minimum my job wouldn¡¯t provide.¡± She shrugged. ¡°I was stupid, though. Stubborn. I had no interest in asking for help unless Gloria, one of the workers at a group home I¡¯d been in, hunted me down to check on me. Other people on the streets, some had it together enough to receive assistance, but it was never enough to truly climb out of the place they were in. They were generous when those checks came in. Always asking about me, offering me sandwiches.¡± She laughed. ¡°Mary would come up to me, all bandaged and bruised because she¡¯d picked a fight, and shove a sandwich in my face. Tell me I needed to eat. NOW. She¡¯d sit me down and talk to me about her kids until every last bite of that sandwich was gone.¡±


    Ellette sighed then. ¡°I miss them, but then I don¡¯t. I don¡¯t want to end up like that, talking about my kids who are living with relatives...¡± She glanced up at her silent audience, studying him. ¡°I was extremely lucky. It¡¯s hard out there. If you do go poking around, talking to people, don¡¯t forget that. Bring food, easy to eat snacks. Dry socks, hand warmers, and cash are always welcome. And don¡¯t fucking judge.¡± She shook her head, her jaw clenched. ¡°Don¡¯t judge what they do with that money, because I can guarantee, they give more to each other than most folks living in the posh apartments, making more money than they know what to do with.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve had enough, woman!¡± The door to the bedroom banged opened. Rand was laughing, rubbing his fingers. ¡°You¡¯ve got something to go on. I can¡¯t show you anymore, not today anyway.¡±


    Ellette winced at the way Rand was kneading his hands, the fingers crooked and stiff. It looked painful Had she been talking with Boris that long? The rain and the cold had likely gotten to him more than he¡¯d realized. Ellette fought back the urge to come to his defense and throw Jessie out. While she might not like the woman, Rand played with her fairly often. They shared more and more sets as of late. It wasn¡¯t Ellette¡¯s place to interfere.


    ¡°But I don¡¯t even have half the song!¡± Jessie protested.


    ¡°Tomorrow!¡± Rand laughed and went to the window where Ellette and Boris sat. He leaned on the window frame next to Ellette with that familiarity that she was only now learning to tolerate. She watched as he worked his fingers, one at a time, and frowned, taking his hand in her own, gently working the scarred and knotted flesh.


    She turned back to Boris. ¡°Listen it looks like the rain¡¯s letting up. Do you think you have enough to start with?¡±


    Ellette was a strange sort of sorrowful look in Boris¡¯s eyes before he glanced down at his notebook. ¡°Yeah, yeah, sure.¡±


    ¡°If I think of anything that might help you, I¡¯ll jot it down and give you a call, alright?¡± Ellette felt strangely taken aback by the young man¡¯s change of mood.


    He glanced back up at her as if lost in thought. ¡°Oh, yeah that sounds great.¡± He stood, realizing that her words were something of a dismissal. They were done here, for now at least. ¡°Listen, Ellette. I¡¯m really sorry I wasn¡¯t more help to you back then.¡±


    Ellette laughed. ¡°What you did for me was perfect. I needed a meal, and I appreciated the unexpected kindness.¡±


    ¡°I should have done more,¡± he muttered. ¡°I meant what I said on that card. If you need help, call.¡±


    ¡°So that¡¯s it, eh Rand?¡± Jessie whined. She looked like a petulant child holding her guitar by the neck, her hair a still slightly damp tangle around her head.


    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s it,¡± Rand told her firmly. ¡°My hands hurt, and the rain is letting up. Get your persistent little butt out of my house.¡± He turned to Boris then. ¡°Did you get enough information for your project?¡±


    Boris flashed a grin then, suddenly charming and easy-going once more. ¡°I got enough to start with. But now that I know where you both live, I might have to stop back by.¡± He gave Ellette a wink. ¡°For research.¡±


    ¡°I expect you at the park tomorrow!¡± Jessie interrupted once more. ¡°I want to try that song again.¡±


    ¡°If you picked it up the first time it wouldn¡¯t take so long,¡± Rand shot back.


    Jessie scowled and headed towards the door. She turned back, giving Boris a stern look. ¡°Come on, Boris,¡± she stretched out his name, saying it with a sing-song, slightly mocking tone. ¡°I¡¯ll walk you partway.¡±


    Boris chuckled reaching for Ellette¡¯s hand. She obliged and he gave it a warm shake. ¡°It was good to meet you again.¡±


    Ellette watched him go, feeling strangely disconcerted for sometime after he¡¯d left. It was strange, how despite the fact that she¡¯d only met him briefly, twice now, there was a familiarity there. She shivered despite herself.


    ¡°Everything okay?¡± Rand asked.


    ¡°Hmmmm...¡± Ellette considered for a moment before answering. ¡°Yeah, everything¡¯s fine.¡±


    Rand put the kettle on, pulling down down a box of tea, before turning back to face her. ¡°You seem,¡± he chose his next words carefully, ¡°a little disconcerted. Was Boris not what you¡¯d expected?¡±


    Ellette laughed, climbing onto one of the stools that lined the kitchen counter. ¡°I can¡¯t say I expected anything. It just... felt strange talking to him. Like I knew him, and he seemed to know me. Our conversation felt like pretense.¡± Ellette shugged. ¡°Maybe it was just more that I had built him up in my mind, and feel like I know him when I really don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°So, nothing bad.¡± Rand poured her a cup of tea, and she took the steaming mug into her hands gratefully.


    ¡°Nothing bad,¡± she assured him, dunking the teabag in her cup absently. ¡°I wonder,¡± she said after a long moment. ¡°Perhaps I met him in a dream, before. I try to write them all down, but there are so many I don¡¯t remember.¡± She sighed and reached for the sugar jar, dumping a heaping spoonful into her drink. ¡°I hope I didn¡¯t fail him.¡±


    Rand took her hand, giving it a squeeze. ¡°You always,¡± he repeated himself for emphasis, ¡°always do the best you are able to. Failure is all in your head.¡±


    ¡°Not when it hurts other people,¡± she muttered.


    ¡°Ellette.¡± His tone was sharp, scolding. ¡°I¡¯m not going to play this self-loathing game of yours.¡±


    She sighed heavily before raising her eyes to meet his. ¡°Sorry,¡± she mumbled, sipping at her tea.


    ¡°You know,¡± he said, pushing a battered piece of paper across the countertop. ¡°You don¡¯t have to mope and worry and wonder. Just give him a call.¡±


    She set her mug down on the countertop and picked up the card, turning it over in her hands. She let out a soft laugh. ¡°You¡¯re right. Of course, you¡¯re right.¡±

 14.1 Losing You - Nightmare

    She''d been in the bar for hours. The only relief to the monotony of a world she had little interest in was when he took the stage. He''d played for a good long time, soulful and sad. Sometimes he''d sing in his rough, husky way, but most of the time he''d let the guitar take the limelight. He wasn''t much of a singer, but he was a musician and a talented one at that.


    The crowd barely noticed, he was just background noise to their drunken exploits. Soon, he joined them, locking his instrument away in its case and climbing up to the bar. He sat alone, drinking and staring into his glass. Women would approach him from time to time, and she couldn''t blame them. He was lanky, scruffy, and handsome, his hair overgrown, hanging into dark, thick lashed eyes.


    She lost track of him as the night moved on and she searched the room for whatever had drawn her here. Some men had been trying to talk her into leaving with them, and she''d been indulging their attempts with half-hearted small talk. They were drunk, and easily distracted, easily amused. Her only goal was to keep them from groping her or puking on her boots. They''d eventually lost interest, and she wandered out to the front of the building, taking in the fresh air.


    A faint trickle of angry voices down an alley had piqued her interest, but it wasn''t until she heard the grunt of pain, muffled, and anguished that she made her move.


    The gun was in her hand before she''d realized she''d drawn it, determinedly striding towards the source. Three men stood over a man, face bloodied, crumpled amongst the trash bags and filth of that dank alleyway. She shot into the air, fury fueling her now.


    Gun leveled at the nearest men, she spoke. "The next one won''t miss. I''ve already called the police. So you have two choices. Stick around, dodge a few bullets, and answer to those sirens," they started up on cue, though she knew her gunshot had alerted them rather than the call she''d not yet made, "or leave. Now."


    They muttered and scoffed, but eventually, their leader chose the latter.


    Ellette kneeled beside him then, barely recognizing the guitarist from the bar. She reached for his hand, only to find there was no way of holding it without causing him pain. His hands were covered in blood, raw with open gashes from fingertip to forearm. Tears welling in her eyes, she opted instead to stroke his forehead, soothe him in this time of need. "You''ll be alright," she whispered when no other words came to mind.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Those dark eyes of his locked on her, studying her features. He was strangely sober after all she''d seen him drink earlier in the night. "I''ll stay with you until I know you''re alright." She told him, cursing herself for not leaving sooner, for not realizing it was he she had been drawn here to save. "What''s your name?"


    "Rand," he choked out. "Thank you..."


    "Ellette. I''m Ellette." She found a handkerchief in her pocket and wiped the blood from his face. He''d been so handsome, there in the bar, as he''d played on that soulful guitar. Dark, a little scruffy, and a little broken. But now, his face was battered and bruised, his left eye nearly swollen shut. "They really did a number on you, didn''t they?" she said before she''d caught herself.


    "I," he coughed, "owed them money. A lot of money..."


    She shook her head and continued to dab at his face, too horrified by the extent of the wounds on his hands to dare work on them. "You''re going to have to find a way to pay them, even after all this..." she said sadly, and hoped he could return, to help him. It wouldn''t be over, men like that don''t let debts go unpaid.


    "My father... he''ll take care of it." He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. "I didn''t want to stoop to asking him. My wallet," he gestured weakly to the open wallet laying beside him amongst the trash. She gathered it up, collecting the spilled cards and contents. "Edhi," he managed. She shuffled through the cards, finding the one that said Javid Edhi. "Call him. He''ll take care of everything..."


    Then he was silent. She studied the card before pocketing it and found herself staring at the open wallet in her hands. There were photos amongst those cards, well worn. A woman, a child, and Rand. They were so young, this couple, this family, and they looked so happy. How had he come to this?


    The police arrived first. Ellette answered their questions as best she could, frustrated by the distraction, by the way Rand was forced to lay there on the dirty ground, waiting for help, real help to arrive. The police would do little. What happened to Rand was his own doing, in their eyes. A dark-skinned man, bloodied and beaten on the ground thanks to his own debts and gambling was nothing new to them.


    It felt like hours before paramedics arrived. When they had him strapped into the gurney, the worst of his wounds hastily bandaged, he reached for her, bloodied hand trembling.


    "I''m his girlfriend," she pleaded, "please let me ride with him." Though she knew she would soon disappear from his side forever, awaken from this nightmarish dream to her own bleak reality, she felt a desperate need to stay with him, comfort him. After all, if she''d only noticed his plight sooner, none of this would have happened.

 14.2 Losing you - Love

    Finding her way into his arms, into his bed, was easy enough. Easier than she''d ever imagined after she''d gotten past the initial terror. She''d grown to trust him, love him, in a way she''d never imagined she could. They''d moved past the chaste kisses and cuddling. Now there was passion where she''d felt only hesitant indulgence.


    He''d been patient through it all, though she knew he wanted more. The prospect weighed heavily on her. What was too much? Could it send her into a desperate downward spiral if they went too far if being with him reminded her of all the things she''d fought so hard to repress?


    Yet, as she lay curled beside him, she didn''t care. He had helped her to feel normal and she found herself wishing to do the things a normal couple would do. Propped up by the pillows, they''d been enjoying their usual Friday night ritual of watching movies late into the night. She''d long since lost track of what it was that was on the tiny screen on the dresser and was dozing, her head resting on his chest, lulled by the beat of his heart.


    Movement roused her from her near-slumber as he fumbled with the remote, extinguishing the only light source in the room, save the flickers through the curtains from the street below. Rand pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head. It wasn''t enough, she wanted more. She rolled over to sprawl across his chest and leaned into his lips, kissing him deeply. His hand slid up the small of her back, fingers hot against her skin. She found herself clutching at his shirt, and had to pull away to catch her breath.


    "Wow," he exhaled, smiling up at her. Though his face was obscured by shadows, she knew that expression well. She''d become increasingly familiar with that bemused look of his when she took the next step in their intimacy. He rarely pushed, and when he did, it was with such gentleness she couldn''t help but feel a tinge of guilt. It wasn''t his fault she was like this. He hadn''t broken her to the point she''d never wanted, never even considered the possibility of finding love. And yet, she was in love. She''d found happiness with him, long sought and desperately won.


    She laughed and fingered the hem of his shirt, tugging at it to reveal the well-toned stomach she''d often admired. She took a breath and pulled the garment once again, letting her fingers trace over the skin. He was so warm, his skin smooth, firm, and dark. She admired the contrast of her porcelain skin against his tanned olive tone before working her hands up to his chest. He sat up slightly to pull the shirt up and over his head, making his thick hair stand up at odd angles.


    Once it was tossed to the side, he reached up to run his hand through her hair, pulling her down for another kiss, wistful and sweet. Caught up in the taste of his lips, she felt weak. She all but collapsed against him, fingers tracing over his chest. It was what she wanted, to just feel him, more of him, skin to skin. Was this lust, or love? She wondered momentarily before her thoughts were lost in the sensations enveloping her.


    It was his turn to break away next. It took her a moment to realize he''d spoken. "Is this okay?" His voice was soft as silk in her ear, and she wondered what he meant before realizing that his hands had worked their way under her shirt, calloused fingertips tracing along her skin. She shivered at the heat of his hands on her bare flesh before answering him by sitting up to pull her own shirt over her head.


    She hesitated as she realized that she now sat beside him, nearly naked, wondering if she dared go on. This was entirely new ground for her. If there was anyone she was willing to share herself with, it was Rand, but she feared how she might react should they go on. Would she panic? Would this intimacy, this moment be lost forever?


    Catching her hesitance, Rand sat up beside her, putting a hand on her shoulder. When she didn''t pull away, he drew her to him. He was like a furnace, if he was any warmer, she feared he''d sear her bare skin. It was too much, to be so close to him, no safety net, no pretenses of friendship. They''d moved beyond that months ago. Yet there was still this between them, her fear, her past, everything that she was.


    Her body shook with emotion, her face dampening with tears. As she struggled to compose herself. He spoke softly all the while, the words of little importance, the tone soft and sweet. If she''d pushed against him, drew away, it would be over. He would let her go, but she wondered if she''d ever muster the courage again.


    She managed to wipe away the tears and took a breath. This was what she wanted. She was safe with him. She''d always felt safe with him. Lifting her head, she reached up to draw his face to hers. She wouldn''t give in to emotion, she wouldn''t cry. Not again. When they finally came up for air, there were questions on his lips, but she spoke first.


    "I want this," she assured him. "I''m just... a little scared..."


    He caught her face in his hand again, kissing her tear-stained cheeks. "I don''t want to do anything..."


    She laughed, cutting him off. "Not of you. Of me..." She sighed, taking his hand in hers. "I''m afraid that I''ll ruin this."


    "Ellette," he soothed, "this doesn''t have to go any further..."


    She shook her head and leaned in to kiss him again, to still those lips that always were too kind, too understanding, too patient, too forgiving. When she broke free, she leaned her face into his shoulder and inhaled. He smelled so good, of those spices he was fond of, of sweat and of home. Their home.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    His breath was hot on her neck as he bent to whisper, "Just tell me..." He kissed her neck, and she felt herself began to tense and tremble once more. "If you want to stop." Her breath all but stilled in her chest as his lips traveled along her neck to her shoulder. He pulled away from her then, his hands lightly caressing her upper arms as he studied her.


    With a courage that surprised them both, she straddled him, placing her hands on his chest, and pushed him back against the pillows before he could speak again. He laughed, his hands settling on her hips. She leaned down to kiss him indulgently once more before sliding her hands down his chest, down his stomach, to the waistband of his boxers. Such a thin bit of cloth between them now, nothing much really. It would be so easy to pull them loose.


    It wasn''t as if she was unfamiliar with what lay beneath. Yet it was that familiarity that held her back. She closed her eyes. Rand wasn''t like him. She wasn''t doing this because it had been demanded. Rand would not take what she wasn''t willing to give. And for the first time, she wanted to give. She took a deep breath, feeling his eyes on her. He was stark still, waiting for a sign, a movement from her.


    She shook her head, determined, and tugged at the waistband, working them down lower on his hips before he caught her wrist, gently. He sat up, and gathered her up in his arms, kissing her face. "Please," he whispered, "let me." She nodded, allowing him to lower her onto the pillows where he''d lain moments before.


    She had her hands in his hair, as he worked his way down her neck with feather-soft kisses. His hands roamed her body, responding to each sigh and moan his lips coaxed from her. She gasped as he cupped her breast and a thumb grazed her left nipple.


    His eyes caught hers, pausing at the shuddering gasp his touch had provoked. All she could manage was a slight smile before he kissed her lips again. She felt weak as she clung to him, skin to skin, heart thundering in her chest. As if sensing her need, he pulled away from her, resting his forehead against hers, eyes closed, cradling her against him.


    "I love you," he whispered.


    The tears came again and she clung to him more desperately, fingers digging into his back. She gasped and struggled to catch her breath, to compose herself. With a sigh, he laid down beside her, pulling her into his arms.


    "This can wait, Ellette."


    She wiped at her face. "No!" she choked out. "You idiot." She wiped at her face again. "Just stop. Stop being so... so... you," she exclaimed.


    He chuckled, and she couldn''t help but smile.


    "I don''t know how to be anyone else."


    She sighed. "I want this, Rand."


    He smiled in that way that made her melt, running his hand through her short-cropped hair before cupping her face, his thumb tracing lazy circles on her cheekbone. "Don''t do this for me," he said softly. "This isn''t something I will chance getting wrong with you, Ellette. Not knowing what you''ve been through. I won''t risk it. I won''t risk you, or us..."


    He was right, as he always was. He held the keys to her heart and knew it well. She smiled and kissed him lightly, stilling his words. "I trust you," she whispered as she pulled away, searching his eyes. She guided his hand back to her breast, "It''s okay..."


    He shook his head, chuckling, "Is it?"


    She cracked a smile in response. Words seemed redundant as she caressed his chest, urging him to pursue what they had started. He responded with a sigh and gathered her up into a crushing embrace. When she worried he''d crush the breath from her, he laid her down once more, leaning over her. She felt her cheeks flush even further as he stared down at her intently.


    "You''re determined to see this through?" he asked, only a hint of amusement in his voice.


    She nodded, words escaping her.


    He bowed his head. "It hurts me," he said, "to see you cry. "


    "I''m sorry..." her voice cracked, and he shook his head. She caught his cheek in her hand, smiling. "It''s hard, to be vulnerable, to be open up to you, like this."


    He searched her face before resting his forehead against hers. His lips found hers, calming the shuddering of the breath that rattled and caught in her chest. His hands found her hips, rough-skinned fingers working their way under her panties, the small bit of clothing separating her body from his. She closed her eyes, fighting back a swell of emotion that threatened to push her over the edge into panic as he slid the garment loose.


    Feeling her stiffen beneath him, he pulled away, giving her a chance to catch her breath. Eyes closed, she fought down the fear and took hold of his forearm, fingertips finding the scars she knew so well.


    It was his turn to stiffen then, but she took little notice. Those scars linked them. She''d been there when he''d gained them. They made him vulnerable and dear to her. Her right hand traced down the largest one, finding her way to his palm before twisting his hand around to lock her fingers in his. She gripped his hand, the knots of scar tissue so familiar and comforting. Her eyes flew open then, meeting his, her left hand winding in his hair, pulling him down to her.


    They''d reached the point of no return, and they both knew it. No words, no foreplay was needed. With his free hand, he worked to disrobe himself, not daring to let go of the hand that clutched his so desperately. She opened herself to him then, eyes closed as he slid between her legs, and paused. His free hand cupped her face, waiting. "Look at me, Ellette," his voice, husky with emotion, was little more than a breath against her skin. "I love you."


    "I love you, Rand," she choked out in response. He held her face, gently, eyes locked on hers. Only when he managed a trembling smile did he lean in to kiss her, abandoning himself to the pleasure of their bodies joining.


    She''d known lust, she''d known sex, and she''d been used, but this was something entirely different. This was what she''d heard about, what others had sought out in their desires. Yet, as her pulse thundered in her ears and Rand''s lips caressed her neck, pausing to tell her how much he loved her, over and over again, she knew this was something more. Surely not everyone knew such love, felt so completely joined to another.


    Their passions peaked, and she cried out despite herself. He stilled himself then, his breath ragged as he searched her face. "Are you alright?"


    "Yes... better than alright," she laughed.


    He smiled and kissed her before pulling her into his arms, cradling her against him. Bodies still intertwined, she closed her eyes, cocooned in his warmth. The intensity of their union fading, all energy drained from her. In the comfort of his embrace, her consciousness slipped into dream.

 14.3 Losing You - Dreamscapes

    She awoke on the other side still in his arms. It was a long moment before she realized that they were no longer in his bed, safe in their apartment. The setting had changed to the damp and cold of the outdoors at night. Her heart picked up its beat, roaring in her ears as she sat up, searching their surroundings. Rand lay beside her, only now beginning to stir.


    She grabbed his hand, emotions overwhelming her. "I''m so sorry, Rand," she choked out. She''d pulled him into her dream, into a dreamwalk. She thought she''d learned to control it. The dreams had come so rarely of late she''d let her guard down. He sat up slowly, glancing around only briefly before pulling her into his arms. He understood.


    "It''s okay," he soothed. "We''ve done this before. It will be okay."


    She nodded and caught her breath. After what they''d just shared, her emotions were still raw. She didn''t want this, not now. "I can''t do this..."


    He ruffled her hair and pulled her to stand. "Yes, you can."


    She clung to his arm, face pressed into his shoulder. "It''s not fair, Rand. This shouldn''t be happening. Not now."


    He stroked her hair, and looked around, getting his bearings in this strange place they now found themselves. "The dreamwalks have a purpose, happen for a reason, right?"


    She nodded against him, wanting nothing more than to slip from this place, to enjoy a dreamless sleep.


    "We are here for a reason. We figure out whatever it is that we are supposed to do, together." He caught her chin, tilting her face so she would meet his eye. "Better than being alone, isn''t it?"


    She shook her head furiously, stepping away from him. "No, no it''s not! I don''t know what can happen to you here. If it is just me, I know I''ll wake up, eventually. You, though... " She sighed, head bowed. "I can''t lose you, Rand, not now. Especially not like this."


    "You won''t," he replied simply, taking her hand and pulling her into a walk beside him. "Let see what we need to do. We won''t find out by standing here."


    The thundering in her chest, the panic dissolved as they walked through the nightscape of trees, hand in hand. There was nothing around them, no sign of civilization or even a path. Moss hung from the trees, swaying in the light breeze. The air was damp and cool, refreshing against her skin. With the moon lighting their way, she let herself relax and enjoy this unexpected journey they were taking together.


    Perhaps it was simply the progression of her dreamwalking talent, and of their relationship. Having him beside her was comforting in its way. Though the possible consequences still weighed heavily in her mind, she pushed aside her fears and tried to focus. It wasn''t like her to lack confidence in the dream world. This was her realm, where she was all but invincible, a guardian angel to those in need.


    After some time, she realized they''d found a path and Rand was guiding them with a strange confidence and determination. She squeezed his hand, and he glanced down at her.


    "I know this place," he explained.


    She furrowed her brow, wondering at this strange revelation. She was rarely dropped into familiar ground. That Rand would know where they were only strengthened the possibility that they were indeed there for him.


    "There is a cabin, just ahead."


    And there was, though it was more than a cabin in her mind. What they found was a fairly large house in the woods, beautiful though in disrepair. It stood empty, the windows shuttered, the moss that hung from the surrounding trees had taken root in the roof tiles, hanging in long wisps along the porch railings. On the door was a heavy padlock, but that didn''t deter Rand. He made his way up the steps, the boards squeaking in protest underfoot. He took the lock in his hand and studied it thoughtfully before digging through his pockets.


    He turned to Ellette, grinning, key in hand. "Would you look at that? Dream rules, I bet."


    "Rand, this is strange. I''ve never had something like this happen..."


    "There''s a first time for everything," he said, fitting the key in the lock with ease.


    She glanced around nervously, though from the looks of the place it was unlikely anyone would find them here. "I just have a bad feeling," she tried again.


    The lock thudded to the ground, and Rand pulled the door open on protesting hinges.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    "You said you know this place?"


    He nodded, taking in the room before them, the furnishings draped in protective sheets. He went about pulling the sheets loose, and turned to her, arms overflowing with white cloth. She stood in the doorway, uneasy.


    "This was my mother''s favorite place." He said, beaming. "We used to come here every summer. I can''t believe it''s still here, exactly as we left it." He came to her, taking her hands. "Come on, let me show you around."


    She shivered despite his excitement. "Why would we be brought here?" she wondered aloud.


    He tugged on her hands, drawing her into the dark, long-abandoned house. "We won''t find out by standing here. Come on!"


    "It''s dark, and all the windows are shuttered..." she protested.


    He laughed and flipped the switch on the wall. Much to her surprise, the room lit up. "Dream rules, right? Actually, I wouldn''t be surprised if Father left the electricity on. He would find it more convenient to keep paying a power bill rather than having to bother with turning it back on should he decide to use the place."


    She shook her head. She''d known he''d come from a well-off family but seeing the reality of just how wealthy his father was made her feel strangely out of place. She''d come from nothing, had no one. But this, this was was one of the nicest homes she''d been in, and it was only their summer cabin. He was clearly from another world, and yet, she''d never understood how different their upbrings were. Until now.


    Reluctantly, she followed him as she took her from room to room. The living room was spacious, the furniture simple, but well made. Everything was coated with a thin layer of dust, but the quality of the furnishings and the house itself was still clear. The kitchen was large, a rack of pots hanging from the ceiling, an island with a counter and stools just below it. The stove was a monstrosity, a gas range with six burners. It was a kitchen for cooking and hosting parties, and when he led her through the dining room, this suspicion was confirmed. There were six rooms in all, two on the ground floor, four on the second story, each fully furnished.


    He led her into a small room on the top floor, pulling the protective coverings from the bed and opening the window so he could unlatch the shutters. "This was my room," he told her, leaning on the window sill. "I wouldn''t be surprised if there''s still a guitar in the closet." He leaned over and tugged open the door, finding a case there just as he''d predicted. Pulling it out, he unclasped the case and removed the instrument, settling in on the window sill, strummed, and winced. He worked to tune the well-worn instrument.


    Ellette found her way to the bed and settled down on the edge. "Why would the dream lead us here?" she wondered out loud.


    He shrugged, smiling in his reverie. After picking out a few chords, he laughed and paused. "My fingers are like they were, I can play so easily here." He set the guitar down and went to her, flopping down on the bed like a kid and pulling her into a sloppy kiss.


    She laughed and pushed him away. The unease hadn''t left her, but his mood was contagious. It was like a gift, this place, him being here. Rand was naturally a cheerful person, his lightness often in contrast to her moody tendencies. But there had always been a darker undercurrent, a sadness within him, as was expected with all that he had endured. Now, in this place of his youth, his hands healed, he seemed to come to life in a way she''d never seen.


    "Thank you," he said. "I haven''t thought about this place in ages."


    She smiled, taking his hands, turning them over in her own. They were flawless, long and tapered, beautiful yet well calloused; a musician''s hands. As happy as she was for him, the sight of them caused an ache in her heart. If it wasn''t for that night, if it wasn''t for those men destroying these beautiful hands she now held, she would have never met him.


    "I had nothing to do with it," her voice caught in her throat as she spoke.


    "Without you, this wouldn''t be possible," he said, pulling her to him, nuzzling her neck. She stiffened at his touch, his breath on her neck causing her to shiver. He dropped his hands from her, giving her the space her body language demanded. There was something about this place that set her on edge, something about this dream that was not right.


    "I don''t like it, Rand. I don''t know why. Dreamwalking always has a price. Usually, the debt is paid by helping someone. Who are we helping here?"


    He shrugged and stood, putting the guitar away, his mood noticeably deflated. "Let''s go for a walk. Maybe the answer is out by the lake, one of the other cabins in the area. Though I doubt it. There aren''t many people who come up here in the offseason."


    She nodded, taking his lead, relieved to be leaving the cabin, to set off to find whatever it was that had drawn them here. They found a flashlight in the coat closet. After some rooting around, Rand found a second one and handed it to her. "The batteries seem good enough, but just in case. Let''s just use one at a time, so we have a backup." She nodded, willing enough to humor him. Rather, she knew he was humoring her. If it were up to him, he''d surely be strumming at the guitar or searching out a flute to play. It wasn''t often he could play without restriction or pain.


    She shook her head and put the flashlight back down in the closet. "No, Rand. This is for you. It has to be. Go get your guitar. Play. You can''t lose this chance."


    It didn''t take much convincing. She followed him back up to the room he''d stayed in as a child, Picking up the guitar and strumming. He played for what seemed like hours, sometimes only a light and somewhat absent-minded strumming while he told her stories of his summers in this place. Then he would lapse into intense flamenco-style playing, his fingers lighting over the strings with an intensity she''d never seen before. He''d tried before, his hands had known the placement, his fingers the rhythm, but scarred as they were, they hadn''t obeyed. Now, though, his movement was unhindered, and he was free.


    It struck her, like a blow to the chest as she watched him, his eyes closed, content. She hadn''t helped him all those years ago. She''d failed him. His life had been in shambles, his family torn apart, but if she''d helped him sooner, he''d still have his hands. He''d still be able to play. Watching him now, it was so obvious. This was who he was, who he was meant to be. The music was what made him. And now, the man she knew, the man she loved was only a fragment of who he had been.


    Guilt washed over her as she thought back to that night, that fateful dreamwalk.

 14.4 Losing You - Waking

    The light of predawn trickled in through the windows. Ellette noticed it with a hint of panic. They would be waking soon. This was the critical moment. Would he wake with her, or be lost here? It hadn¡¯t happened last time they¡¯d dreamwalked together, but the fear still lingered in her gut. Some part of her was undeniably sure of the possibility of it.


    ¡°I think we should be waking soon,¡± she voiced her concern, getting to her feet. ¡°Put the guitar away,¡± she urged, putting a hand on his shoulder.


    He obliged, finding the case in the closet and setting the instrument back into place. Ellette stayed beside him, thankful when he¡¯d finished and she could entwine her fingers in his. They made it out to the porch and watched the forest come to life. A mist settled low along the ground, creating a fittingly dreamlike setting. Bird calls and the rustle of animals amongst the trees sounded all around them. Ellette leaned her head on his shoulder, savoring the peaceful moment they had together when she began to feel herself go.


    She woke before him, as she had before. There was still that panicked feeling of fading, that tell-tale tingling at the back of her neck. Wakefulness came with a gasp and a fumbling uncertainty as she struggled to sit up within the confines of his arms. He was wrapped about her so tightly, his limbs dead weight around her, and yet so comforting and warm.


    He seemed so peaceful, dead asleep, a slight smile upon his lips. She stroked his hair, fingers tracing along his cheek. She didn''t dare breathe, waiting for a sign. Then, there it was, a flutter of his eyelids. Never had there been a more beautiful sight. She bent and kissed his forehead, and he sat up beside her, groggily blinking and rubbing his eyes.


    "That," he said with a sleepy grin, "was the best night I''ve ever had."


    She couldn''t help but laugh, and he tackled her, kissing her and pulling the blankets up over their heads. "Let''s play hooky," he whispered conspiratorially there in their little fortress of covers and warmth.


    Ellette, already uneasy from the transition from dream to waking was uncomfortably aware of her lack of clothing, and his. She gathered the sheet around her, feeling herself flush. "I can''t, Stella''s on her own today. That place is a madhouse at lunch." She was doing her best to escape from the covers, to find her clothes.


    "So?" he asked, thwarting her attempt by grabbing the sheet she''d wrapped about herself and tugging her closer to him. "It''s not like she hasn''t ditched you for the scumbag boyfriend of hers to go skateboarding, or buy records, or whatever it is that pierced little bag of cheerfulness does on her spare time." He ran a hand along her cheek, letting it come to rest at the back of her neck. "Besides. I think we should celebrate..."


    She flushed scarlet at that and looked away from the intensity of those dark, deep eyes of his. "I... ah," she tried pulling the sheet up over her nose.


    He laughed. "I''ll call my father, see if he really does have that old cabin still. We can go for a drive."


    She smiled, his mood contagious. "You don''t even have a car!"


    "Father does. He''s got them to spare. He''s so distracted with his new wife, his new kids, he doesn''t even bother to resent me anymore. I''m sure he''ll let us..."


    Though he said it lightly, she could hear the bitterness in his voice, the pain of that old wound. She sighed and leaned into him, her forehead resting on his chest. He''d spent so much time, so much effort being who she needed, being there for her, she owed it to him. Perhaps he''d wrapped himself up in her life so thoroughly to avoid his own issues. She felt the pang of guilt once more. She was so selfish with him, taking all he would give, and he never questioned, never hesitated to give.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    "Okay," She looked up to meet his eyes then and was greeted with a smile that was well worth sullen and bitter Stella that would greet her tomorrow. "I''ll call in. But we better get moving. How far is that cabin exactly?"


    He tossed the blanket aside, reaching for his clothes with little in the way of modesty. "Upstate. A good couple of hours at least. Oh, but you know what would be great? We could take a train there, then rent a cab..."


    She slid off the bed, the sheet wrapped tightly around her. "And how would we pay for that?"


    "I have enough..." he explained vaguely, coming around to her side of the bed. He held her by the shoulders, kissing her forehead. "I feel like I need to do this. I want you to come." He grinned and changed the subject. "So, you want the shower first?"


    She nodded.


    "I want my sheet back!" he called as she disappeared through the doorway.


    She turned to find him holding up a towel before tossing it to her. Swapping sheet for towel, she wadded up the linens and hurled them in his direction before bolting for the safety of the bathroom.


    * * *


    No one was at the shop when she called, forcing hoarseness into her voice and claiming the flu would be keeping her home. Rand came out of the shower, in his robe and winked at her before going into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. She wasn''t sure if she was ready for this new Rand, this domestic sort of comfort he had with her now. Did sex really change so much, or was it the dream?


    She found herself flushing furiously as he returned to the living room. As he reached out to wrap an arm around her waist, she sidestepped, rubbing her arms. Yes, she was comfortable with him, yes she loved him, but who she was would not change overnight. It was too much, too soon.


    He opted for ruffling her hair, undeterred. That was just who he was, so confident in a way she could never be, could never understand. "I''ll call Father in a bit, too early to bother the old man right now."


    "What makes you so sure he''ll even be able to give you the key if he even has the cabin still?"


    "He''ll have one of the staff drop it off," Rand answered easily, thumbing through the contacts on his phone as he settled onto the couch. Ellette made her way to the bay window, curling up to watch the park come to life. There were joggers down there already, trudging through the early morning haze. She smiled as she caught a tumble of wild auburn hair. Jessie. Ellette couldn''t help but wonder where the woman went at night. She practically lived in the park, and when she wasn''t there, she was at any number of dives playing and causing all sorts of mischief.


    While Rand was making the necessary phone calls and looking up train tickets, she jotted down the details of the previous night''s dream. She had a number of journals filled with the stories of her exploits through the dreamworld.


    She''d started writing journals when she had been put into Gloria¡¯s home. She hadn''t spoken in months, but through the journal, through Gloria¡¯s patience and Dani''s persistence, she''d eventually worked through her trauma. Now, the journal was still a release of sorts, but it also functioned as a record of where the dreams took her. There was always a chance that someone would find her, as Rand had. The more details she recorded in her dream journal, the more prepared she would be should she encounter someone she''d met in her dreamwalks.


    "Father was surprised to hear from me, but he says the cabin is all ours. He wants to meet you first, though," he said with a chuckle.


    Ellette''s eyes widened and she held the journal to her chest. "Why?" she sputtered. She''d seen the cabin, and from Rand''s casual mention of cars and staff, she knew she wasn''t exactly the kind of girl his father would want him to bring home. "I don''t have anything to wear..."


    Rand had changed into a t-shirt and jeans, his hair still damp and sticking up. He pulled off the tousled, scruffy look quite well. "I''d say father wouldn''t'' care, but that be lying. You shouldn''t care though. He''s a judgmental old bastard. If you''re worried, we can pick something up."


    She shook her head, and went to the office, which had been intended to be her room, and dug through her closet. "Even my nicest clothes are threadbare," she muttered. He followed her into the room, slipping his arms around her shoulders.


    "We have time. There''s a shop on the way to the train station. What you''ve got on is fine, but we can still look if it''ll make you feel better."

 14.5 Losing You - slipping

    Ellette stood nervously at the train station tugging down her skirt and cursing Rand''s spontaneity. At least the train would be nice. She''d never been on one before. Clothes shopping wasn''t too unpleasant. Rand talked her into a simple black sheath dress with a jacket and leather boots to replace her ever-present combat boots. She agreed that it wasn''t a bad look on her, and the leggings underneath made her feel that she wasn''t going to flash anyone.


    Still, she fidgeted and fussed with the hem. She held the backpack defensively against her chest as they stood on the platform watching for the train. She was nervous, she couldn''t help it, and there was nothing Rand could say or do to help her relax. He, on the other hand, stood with a small duffle tossed casually at his feet and sipped on a coffee as if boarding a train to travel across the state was something he did every day. Maybe he had at some point in his past.


    The train chugged into the station, and she stared at the monstrosity that towered before her. It was so much bigger than she expected. She watched as people loaded their bags into the cargo bays on the lower section of the cars and glanced to Rand. He shook his head and picked up his pack, climbing the steps to board. She followed, taking his lead. They settled into a set of seats with a table between them. The train wasn''t very crowded, and they had quite a few hours ahead of them.


    "This is perfect," Rand explained. "We can have lunch while we ride, and you can write if you want without bothering with those little pull-down tables."


    She nodded, and stared around her, still clutching her bag. Rand stood to load his bag in the overhead and took hers as well. "Relax, Ellette. I''ll go get you some coffee, okay?¡±


    The world rolled by with a clickity-clack that set Ellette to conscious dreaming. The sound of the train, the lulling way the world passed by from their high vantage point was more relaxing than she could have imagined. This, this was peace, this was watching the world from a vantage point she could rarely enjoy. It was like her window back at their apartment, but the scene changed so much more rapidly. She loved it.


    "I could do this all the time.." she murmured. Rand had settled back into his seat, headphones in place. He surprised her by murmuring his agreement.


    "I used to do this as often as I could. Reid loved it. He would just stand there next to the window staring out. Roxie didn''t mind either. When they installed the WiFi, it was a perfect family outing."


    Ellette smiled sadly at this reference to his family. It was hard to think of him with his wife and child. She''d never meet his son, and his wife, well, that brought out a pang of jealousy. She knew she likely had little to be jealous of, but still, there was a fear that the mention of her brought out. What if she decided she wanted Rand back after all these years. Who could leave him? He was so good to her, how could he have been anything other than perfect to this Roxie he mentioned so rarely?


    She sighed and reached out to take his hand, change the subject as best she could. "Thank you, Rand, for this. I don''t think I would have ever done this if it wasn''t for you."


    He laughed and squeezed her fingers, pulling a bud from his ear. "Well, Mother left me a good amount of money. I hated to dip into it. I sort of expected at some point to have another kid, and I wanted to save it for them, but I think you''re worth it."


    She flushed and looked away from him. She knew he wasn''t implying that they should have a child, but still, the thought was there. If he wanted a child, then who with? She pulled her hand away from his and let it settle in her lap, staring down. The prospect of a child in her future, it was hard to imagine. And likely impossible. She was damaged, and not just emotionally. Things from her past would likely keep her from ever having a child. She had never considered it before. After all, how could someone who was so scared ever consider bringing another life into this world? It would be disastrous, not to mention cruel to both of them. She could barely open herself up enough to receive love, how could she possibly give it?


    Rand caught the gesture and sat up straighter in his seat, brows furrowed as he studied her. "You know I didn''t mean...that. I would never expect that, from you..."If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    She nodded and looked out the window. "I know. I know you didn''t mean to imply. But... I just. Well, I don''t think I could ever have a child. I never considered it..."


    "Don''t worry about it, Ellette. I didn''t mean anything by it. It is just something I can''t let go. But after having, and losing... " He stopped, words failing him. "Just... don''t worry about it." he gave her a wan smile, clearly uncomfortable.


    She couldn''t stand it, she''d brought it up. She got up and slipped around the table, sliding into the seat next to him. Taking his hand, she wove her fingers into his. "Holding on... " she laughed sadly. "It''s hard to let go of the past." Was all she could manage. There were no words to fill that uncomfortable silence. They''d come so far together, as friends, as a couple, but there were things that would take much much longer. There was a reason for the silence that so often fell between them. Their ability to just let the silence was so much of what held them together.


    Rand gazed out the window for a long time, replacing the earbuds and escaping into the world of music that consumed him so much of the time. After a while, he unlaced his fingers from hers and put his arm around her shoulder. She rested her head on his shoulder and realized she could hear his heart. That thump, thump thump, it soothed her in a way she had never imagined it could. She''d spent so much time fearful of the pounding of her own heart, the thump of feet, the sound of another''s breath so close to her. Yet with Rand, it was comfort.


    She eventually drifted off, despite her effort to keep her eyes on the scenery. So rare was an outing like this, she didn''t want to miss a thing. It was safe here, the light of day so bright outside, no moon to draw her away.


    She slipped into dream.


    She found herself back at the cabin she and Rand had explored the night before. She sat on the edge of the bed in Rand¡¯s room, where they¡¯d spent the majority of their time. The sun was high in the sky, filtering brightly through the windows. She blinked at the unshuttered brilliance of the daylight, dust motes dancing in the breams. The room seemed smaller, lit as it was. Yet Rand wasn¡¯t at his place on the window sill. His guitar case stood open, but the house was silent, except for the chattering of birds and the rustle of the wind through the leaves from outside the open window.


    She stood, uncomfortable in this place, so utterly alone. This was not her home, her childhood haunt. It was nothing but a vaguely uncomfortable memory and that sense of ease only grew as she made her way to the hall. The floorboards creaked underfoot, and her passing stirred dust, making the thin light that filtered through the cracks of the shuttered windows come alive with movement.


    Surely she wasn¡¯t alone. She wouldn¡¯t have come here on her own. She must have fallen asleep on the bed, Rand was downstairs, she reasoned. He wouldn¡¯t have left her. ¡°Rand?¡± she called, making her slow progression down the steps. There was no answer.


    She went from room to room, just as they had the night before. Each was dimly lit, quiet, and entirely empty. She made her way back to the front room and stood at the doorway, wondering if she should check out in the woods, or by the lake. Then, she heard it, a familiar strumming. Relief flooded her and she smiled. ¡°Rand, where on earth...¡± She pounded up the stairs, following the sound to his room, only to find it empty. The house was once again quiet.


    She settled back on the bed, face in her hands. Then, there it was again. Downstairs, this time, but no, it was a flute now. Out on the porch. She stood and made her way quietly down the stairs. The front door was ajar and she slipped through, sure she¡¯d catch him. But as she stepped out, she found herself once again alone. She turned back to the house, a panic rising.


    ¡°Rand, where are you?¡± she called out, shoving the door wide and making a more frantic sweep of the house. The threads of music seemed to tease her, always just out of reach, faint enough to make her wonder if she heard it at all. ¡°I know you¡¯re here, Rand!¡± She pounded up the stairs, flinging open the door to his room, sure she¡¯d caught the elusive sound. Yet nothing. The room was empty. She stepped into the center, turning to check each and every corner. ¡°This isn¡¯t funny, Rand!¡± She cried out, ¡°Rand!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here...¡± his voice was thin and faint. So far away.


    ¡°Where are you?¡± She cried out again. ¡°Rand, I can¡¯t find you!¡±


    ¡°Here...¡±


    Then the world began to shake, she fell to her knees...


    ¡°Hey, hey. I¡¯m right here,¡± the voice was in her ear, a hand on her shoulder, shaking her. Shaking her awake. She gasped, her eyes flying open at the realization. It had been a dream. ¡°Hey, you okay?¡±


    She nodded, sitting up, and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. ¡°I thought I lost you...¡±


    He smiled, sleepily sweet. ¡°Why would you think that?¡±


    She fidgeted in her seat, looking anywhere but at him. She couldn¡¯t meet those eyes, not now with the emotion still raw. ¡°We were at the cabin, and I couldn¡¯t find you...¡±


    He ruffled her hair. ¡°It''s nerves, Ellette. Nothing more,¡± and he returned his gaze out the window. She tried to do the same, but the feeling of unease only seemed to grow.


    ¡°I think, I need to get something to eat,¡± she said, ¡°Or drink, or something. Stretch my legs.¡±


    ***

 14.6 Losing You - Drifting

    A car was waiting for them at the station. The dinner, long, awkward, and tense went as well as could be expected. Ellette resorted to silence, and Rand did his best to get them both through the ordeal. They were a pleasant enough family, Rand¡¯s stepmother and father, but she couldn¡¯t help but feel terribly out of place. She hardly ate and couldn¡¯t wait to get to the cabin, their retreat, their little sanctuary for the evening.


    They found it as they had left it, padlock loose and the shutters in the upstairs room still ajar. Rand went about unloading the groceries in the kitchen while Ellette put their things in the master bedroom. She kicked off her boots, stripped off the dress, worked her way out of her leggings, and pulled on her more comfortable sleep clothes, a loose t-shirt, and sweats.


    Settling into the only faintly musty smelling couch, she flipped on the television, finding mostly static. Eventually, she found some semblance of actual programming and settled in for whatever the mountainous region had to offer. There were about two channels of decipherable programming and she decided on her favorite offering of two, an old action flick.


    When Rand emerged from the kitchen, he settled on the arm of the couch. His fingers were working at some melody only he could hear, and the flutter of movement made it clear he wouldn¡¯t be settling in to watch the movie with her any time soon.


    ¡°You know, we¡¯ve still got some light left, you want to show me around outside?¡± she asked after a while, flipping off the TV.


    ¡°Ah,¡± he fumbled, glancing down at her, ¡°What would you like to see?¡±


    She laughed and got up. ¡°Anything. You know the area better than I do,¡± she called over her shoulder as she went to pull on some jeans and shoes. ¡°And get your flute. I know you¡¯re dying to.¡±


    He stilled his hands and wiped them on his pants guiltily. ¡°That obvious, eh?¡±


    ¡°Just a little, though you know... it won¡¯t be like...¡± she couldn¡¯t finish. Like the dream, where you were healed, when you could play like you did before. Even though they were in the place where he''d been whole again, the reality was, that had been a dream. The unspoken words hung between them, and he quickly changed the subject.


    ¡°Let''s go see if there¡¯s a boat in the shed, see if it¡¯ll hold water. The stars from the middle of the lake are unbelievable.¡±


    ¡°You want to go out at night?¡± She wasn¡¯t the outdoorsy type, and being on the water in this wilderness in the dark was not what she¡¯d had in mind.


    ¡°Sure, I used to do it all the time as a kid,¡± he responded nonchalantly, holding the door for her.


    She nodded and let him lead the way out to the old boat shed. It was latched, but not locked. An old rowboat and a canoe were housed there. Rand went over every inch of the old metal boat in the fading light before asking her to help him haul it out to the little dock. He then gathered an armful of the spare lifejackets in the shed and tossed them into the bottom of the craft. Ellette, arms crossed against the cold, watched him with a raised brow.


    "Are you expecting guests? Or do you think those will help if this rickety piece of metal springs a leak?" she asked incredulously.


    He smiled and shook his head. "You''ll see, now let''s go get some jackets. It¡¯s getting chilly."


    "I was about to do exactly that," she replied, rubbing her arms.


    Back at the cabin, Rand not only grabbed a warm jacket, but dug around for a small basket in which to pack some snacks, slipped his flute in next to them, and found an old blanket tied into a bundle.


    "Are we camping on the lake?" Ellette pondered, as she pulled her sweater on and draped a light wind jacket over her arm.


    "Come on," was his only reply as he tossed the bundle of the blanket at her.


    She caught it and trailed him out to the lake. The light was fading fast, and the moon hung ominously. She was only half-full tonight, her light not nearly as bright as it might have been. Yet the pull of the goddess was still strong. Ellette shivered and pulled on her jacket, willing down the fear of the moon, of her powers that had been growing in her of late.


    Once the snacks, blanket, and Ellette were stowed safely at the front of the boat, Rand pushed it into the water and climbed in. As the little metal craft began to rock in the light current their movement made, Ellette slid off her seat into the bottom, thankful for the pile of lifejackets that kept her from having to sit on the cold metal.


    Rand, busy with adjusting the oars and pushing the boat off only spared her a quick glance and a grin. Then, with a smooth and steady motion, he began to row them out onto the lake. Stroke after stroke, they were propelled towards the center, further from the land, further from warmth, comfort, and stability. Ellette found herself clinging to the seat behind her, staring at the receding shoreline with longing.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Once the shore was an impossibly long swim away from them on all sides when the motion stopped. With practiced ease, he settled the oars into place, resting along the side of the boat. She sighed with relief, but it was too soon. He stood, rocking the small craft once more, bent, and dropped something overboard. It took her a moment to realize that the cement-filled bucket on a chain was the anchor.


    It was only then that he turned to face her. "Still wondering what the lifejackets were for?"


    She shook her head and slowly eased onto the seat.


    "Look up," he said, a hint of nostalgia in his voice.


    She obeyed, and what she found was stunning. Never before had she seen the night sky ablaze with so many stars. A long, soft, "Oh," was all she managed. After a moment, the boat began to rock once more as Rand moved to settle down on the bottom of the boat, his head resting on the bench beside her, a life jacket as a pillow. His legs were draped lazily over the bench he''d sat on while rowing.


    "Was a lot more comfortable as a kid," he mused.


    She reached down and ruffled his hair as he had done to her so many times. "Grown a bit since then, have you?"


    "Just a little," he said with a long sigh. "Come on, this is a lot better than that meadow in the park."


    She gave in and settled down next to him, carefully and slowly, doing her best to avoid rocking the boat. At first, they didn¡¯t speak. The stars glowing in the heavens, like a vast school of fish shimmering in an endless ocean, held their attention. It amazed her just how many there were, the brilliance of them, the variety of colors, the clusters and shapes they formed. It was as if they¡¯d stepped off the face of the earth and were floating in space, no atmosphere between them and the rest of all creation.


    ¡°There¡¯s so many, it''s a little harder to find the constellations. I used to know them all...¡± Rand murmured. ¡°Mother taught me, right out here, just like this.¡±


    ¡°I wish I could have met her...¡± Ellette said before she could catch herself. It felt taboo. She had no right to impose her thoughts on his memories. She knew nothing of the woman except for vague references and a photo on the wall.


    ¡°She would have loved you,¡± he sighed and adjusted his position so he could put an arm around her. ¡°She never really liked Roxie. I mean, she did like Roxie, but I know she felt that she wasn¡¯t the right fit for me. Roxie was too much like my father....¡±


    ¡°What happened to her, your mother?¡± Ellette whispered. The mention of Roxie, the thought of being compared to his estranged wife made her uneasy. Yet changing the subject to his mother in such a way, though she wanted to know she dreaded the answer.


    ¡°Lupus," he answered simply. "She was sick for a long time, off and on my entire life. She held on after Reid, and after...¡± He paused, considering how to continue. ¡°After I recovered,¡± he tried, ¡°her body finally gave out.¡± He squeezed her shoulder, his eyes on the stars. ¡°We all knew it was coming, and I think it was a relief for her. Mother was a very gentle soul. But for most of her adult life, she was like a caged bird. My father was no tyrant, but he¡¯d long since grown out of the rebellious boy who went against his family to marry the hippy girl he met in college. Mother, though, she stayed that girl, and I owe who I am to that.¡±


    Ellette turned to wrap her arms around him, her face pressed against his chest. ¡°I really wish I could have met her,¡± she murmured. ¡°My mother was like that...¡±


    He almost sat up at this revelation, rocking the boat. ¡°Wait, what? I thought you were in foster care...?¡± Ellette clung to him, eyes widened at the movement.


    ¡°Well, I had a mother before that.¡± Ellette laughed, but it came out bitter and choked. True, she rarely spoke of it. Most of her childhood was a painful blur. ¡°When mother was... healthy, she was so perfect, so wonderful.¡± It hurt to remember, the good and the bad. They were so intertwined, so inseparable. It was easier to keep it all buried, deep down inside.


    Rand stroked her hair, letting the silence hang between them. Silence and patience were what she craved, what she needed. He¡¯d learned that long ago with her. ¡°Tell me more about your mother, please?¡± she managed after a while.


    ¡°Well,¡± Rand considered, ¡°she loved this cabin and this lake. This was her sanctuary. Once I¡¯d left for college, she¡¯d be up here more often than not. It drove father nuts.


    ¡°He¡¯d leave on a business trip and my ailing mother would have one of the drivers bring her up here, miles away from a hospital. She¡¯d come back, hunched and aching from arthritis, and say, ¡®I¡¯m fine, I¡¯m fine. Being a little tired never killed anyone.¡¯ Oh, he¡¯d go beet red, which is pretty hard with his complexion, and go into a lecture about how serious her condition was. The funny thing is, she always knew when she was getting sick, and coming here never resulted in a hospital visit.¡±


    He paused for a moment then, and they were left to listen to the soft sounds of the forest around them. The lap of the water against the side of the metal boat, the crickets, and the chorus of frogs along the shoreline.


    ¡°Even though we all knew she was getting sicker, I don¡¯t think father or I really expected her to go. She knew. She¡¯d come to terms with it, spoke of it. Even though Father had been cheating on her for years, he still loved her in his way. It was hard, that last trip to the hospital. All she¡¯d done to prepare us, it wasn¡¯t enough. I still have a hard time believing she¡¯s gone. I feel like I could pick up the phone and call her up any time. That she¡¯s here, at the cabin, waiting for me to visit.


    ¡°I think that¡¯s why I avoided it so long, and yet why I felt we should come here. Seeing it empty, it has helped provide closure. I¡¯ve been able to come to enjoy this place and remember it fondly.¡± He sat up then as if talking it through had helped him to understand his purpose in this place. Ellette sat up reluctantly, feeling suddenly chilled in the absence of his body beside hers. She rubbed her arms and blinked up at him as he climbed into position on the bench. He pulled off his jacket and draped it over her, and she snuggled into the warmth of it, sliding back down into the bottom of the boat, safe and secure.


    He sat there for a while, silent and pondering. Ellette felt herself drifting, her eyelids drooping. After some time, he fished his flute from the bag from where it nestled amongst their untouched snacks. His fingers were stiff from the cold, and the tune was slow and faltering. Despite his struggle with uncooperative hands, the sound of him playing was comforting, almost haunting. She was lulled into sleep before she could catch herself.

 14.7 Losing You - Haunted

    She found herself in the cabin, alone. Standing in the doorway, she shivered. It had to be another nightmare. A dreamwalk here would be pointless. Why would she be sent to an empty house? Sliding inside and closing the door behind her against the wind, she flipped on the lights. They flickered and dimmed, the neon buzz the only sound in the eerie silence.


    Then she heard it. Humming, a woman¡¯s voice. It rose to soft singing, growing closer. Ellette stood frozen against the door, waiting as the sound neared, along with feather soft footfalls down the stairs, just out of view. Then, there she was, a woman, tall, thin wisp of a woman. She wore yoga pants and a floral smock, her salt, and pepper hair in a chin-length bob. Perfectly natural, unremarkable, and yet lovely--and translucent.


    ¡°I hoped you¡¯d come,¡± the woman said.


    Ellette¡¯s heart leaped. She hadn¡¯t expected the vision before her to speak, let alone acknowledge her. Ellette struggled for words, her mind racing. The woman, who she knew to be Evelyn, Rand¡¯s mother from the photo, approached her, hand outstretched.


    ¡°I am happy Rand brought you here,¡± she continued, taking Ellette¡¯s hand. Ellette stared at the hand that grasped hers, soft, warm, and surprisingly substantial.


    ¡°You... how are you...?¡± Ellette managed to squeak out.


    ¡°Come now, you visit people through your dreams,¡± the woman laughed. ¡°Why would this surprise you?¡±


    Ellette allowed herself to be drawn into the house, to the couch.


    ¡°Sit, please, so we can chat,¡± Evelyn encouraged, settling into the couch herself. ¡°Our time here is short.¡±


    Ellette did as she was asked, studying this kind, soft-spoken woman in awe. ¡°How do you know about me?¡±


    ¡°I watch,¡± she replied simply. ¡°But I must warn you, there are dangers, as your instincts have likely told you. No gift is without its costs.¡±


    Ellette nodded, ¡°I know, nightmares... ¡°


    Evelyn shook her head, ¡°No, there is more. So much more...¡±


    The lights flickered and dimmed. Ellette felt a distinct tingling at the base of her skull, and Evelyn grabbed her hand, holding it tight.


    ¡°You are a servant of the moon. Yet the moon, she jealously guards her own. You are hers.¡± Evelyne¡¯s voice was urgent but fading. ¡°Take care, don¡¯t let my son suffer...¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Ellette¡¯s tongue was heavy in her mouth, her words coming out slurred as she transitioned from dream to waking.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything,¡± Rand''s voice broke the spell, and all at once, she was aware.  She was back in the boat. Rand was pulling the craft ashore, the sound of the gravel scraping the bottom beneath her. She sat up in her bed of lifejackets, still wrapped in his jacket.


    ¡°I dreamt of your mother...¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Rand asked, ruffling her hair before putting out a hand to help her up. ¡°What did she have to say?¡±


    ¡°She told me...¡± Ellette mused as she stood, taking his hand and stepping out of the boat. ¡°That the moon is jealous...¡±


    Rand raised a brow and squeezed her hand. ¡°That¡¯s odd. Poor mother, she finally gets to meet you and she¡¯s the bearer of bad news.¡±


    Ellette swiped at his shoulder. ¡°This isn¡¯t a joke.¡±


    Rand shrugged. ¡°Come on Ellette, sometimes your dreams must be just dreams. You¡¯re paranoid, we were talking about my mother, your subconscious took you for a ride.¡±


    She shivered and shoved his jacket into his arms. There was no use arguing. He could be right, but Evelyn¡¯s words echoed in her thoughts.


    ¡°It was strange, though, Rand. How do we know there aren¡¯t others like me? Maybe there are other people who understand, could help...¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Rand shrugged. ¡°There probably is or has been. And Jessie knew about you.¡±


    Ellette shook her head, ¡°That crazy woman? I don¡¯t know how much I can trust her.¡± She shivered and rubbed her arms.  ¡°Let''s just get back inside. I¡¯m freezing.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t mean to belittle your fears, Ellette,¡± Rand said, trailing after her. ¡°I just don¡¯t think worrying is healthy or productive.¡± He sighed then. ¡°I¡¯d like for us to just have a normal night, for you to enjoy this place with me.¡±


    She slowed her pace and caught his hand. He was right. He always was. This was his place, his trip, it meant so much to him. She wouldn¡¯t let her problems or fears overshadow that. ¡°How is an evening spent on a boat staring up at an ocean of stars normal?¡± She teased, only forcing the light tone a little.


    ¡°Okay, well, maybe normal was the wrong word. How about non-supernatural?¡±


    Ellette laughed then. ¡°Supernatural? I¡¯m not supernatural.¡±


    ¡°Well, what you do is not natural...¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not like, some ghost hunter or something,¡± she scoffed. ¡°Or Buffy...¡±


    ¡°No, you just magically dream yourself into other people¡¯s realities.¡±


    ¡°Alright, alright. I get it." She gave in. "Though I don''t'' think talking about the abnormal will make our evening any more normal."


    They¡¯d made their way back to the cabin and she tugged open the door, the previous dream nearly forgotten in their banter. Yet, as she flicked on the lights, the ominous buzz of neon brought it all crashing back. She could almost smell that faint whiff of Evelyn¡¯s perfume and found herself straining for a hum. Rand ruffled her hair, hung his jacket, and made his way to the couch, oblivious to the internal struggle that had frozen Ellette in her tracks. She followed suit mechanically, haunted by the feeling of being watched. Evelyn was still here, she was sure of it. Just beyond their senses.


    "Come on, I found that really obnoxious Kung Fu spoof you like," Rand called from the couch, jarring her from her reflection.


    "You brought the snacks on from the boat, right?" She asked, hoping for the excuse to get out of the house, to escape that haunting lingering essence.


    Rand sat up and cursed. "Left my flute out there too..."


    "I''ll get it " she interjected pulling his jacket on and escaping out to the sobering bite of cold.


    Sleep that night came in restless fits and starts. Fear of dreamwalking, the sensation of being watched kept her from ever fully submitting herself to restful arms of sleep. The full meaning behind Evelyn''s words spun endlessly through her thoughts. She would need to find Jessie, though she knew better than to hope for a straight answer from the fae woman. But she was the only one who seemed to know anything, and another encounter with Rand''s mother wasn''t high on her list of encounters she would want to repeat. . Granted, Evelyn was perfectly lovely, but she was dead. She shouldn''t exist, and their conversation should have never happened. Ellette couldn''t shake that undeniable truth. Dreamwalking was difficult enough for her to rationalize.


    She fought to enjoy, to be present the next day while Rand took her on a hike around the lake, and then fishing. He shared stories of his mother and of bringing Reid to their special place. It was hard for her to relate to these anecdotal tales and memories of his child. Children were creatures who existed on a different plane for her. She had been on once, knew people had them, but her interaction with children was limited to observation. It was obviously therapeutic for him, and she lent the ear he needed. She related to loss and that seemed to be enough.


    Relief came when it was time to leave for the train, and she sat watching the scenery fly by. Rand seemed to have worked through this stage in his grieving process and she was happy for him. Healing himself others, it was what he did best. Though he seemed to think music defined him, he was so much more, and always had been. Ellette reached out and took his hand across the table, wishing she could explain this to him, this revelation.


    His eyes met hers and he smiled, scarred fingers of his left hand twitching in time to the music he was listening to. She opened her mouth, then shut it again, struggling to voice these thoughts. Rand pulled the headphones loose and leaned towards her, expectantly. ¡°Were you trying to say something? I didn¡¯t realize...¡±


    Ellette shook her head and tried again. ¡°You mean a lot to me...¡± she sighed, knowing that she wasn¡¯t coming anywhere close to what her thoughts were. ¡°I think, I think you are a lot more important than you realize...¡±


    He laughed, pulling her hand towards him, and her along with it. ¡°Those sound like my lines, miss Dreamwalker,¡± he whispered conspiratorially, leaning in close to her.


    ¡°No, you¡¯re not listening,¡± she muttered. ¡°I mean it, Rand. What you do, your job, your talent...¡± she shook her head. ¡°No,¡± she struggled to explain, ¡°that¡¯s not it, not exactly... I mean. You¡¯re important, and not just to me. Your clients, your family...¡± She turned his hand over in hers, tracing her fingers over the network of scars on his palm. He flinched, closing his hand around hers, effectively stilling her.  ¡°You¡¯re more than music,¡± she said softly. ¡°Music just helped you to be... to be... you...¡±


    He nodded, and glanced back out the window, his thumb working over the smooth skin of her hand in slow circles. Her heart dropped, knowing her words had fallen woefully short of the mark. Still, she had put it out there, and had meant every word, as fumbling and feeble as they¡¯d been.


    That evening, she pulled the bed out of the couch. The evening had been strangely solemn, and she gave no explanation as to why she wouldn¡¯t be joining Rand in his room, as had been the custom since moving to their new apartment. She needed her space, but more than anything, the thought of pulling him into her realm, her dreams, scared her. Evelyn¡¯s warning, her final plea: Don¡¯t let my son suffer. Ellette couldn¡¯t escape it. She couldn¡¯t chance causing him any more pain.


    _______________________________________________________________________

 14.8 Losing You - Watcher

    The day was laboriously long. Not that she was surprised. Stella tortured her and whined and bitched just as expected. Sulking, complaining, and doing a half-ass job was what Stella did best. Ellette hardly even noticed except for the fact that the line never seemed to dissolve and her workload was a constant. It was a blessing really, to be so busy. Her mind was elsewhere, lost on thoughts of things she had no control of and no way to deal with.


    She had to find Jessie. Whether or not the woman would be of any help was the question. The bus was late, and the rain managed to soak her through before she''d even gotten to the shelter at the bus stop. She huddled at the back of the shelter, flinching as each car managed to find the one pothole that sprayed water in her direction. So much for finding Jessie. The busker woman would not be out in the park today, not in this weather. Yet the park was the one sure place to find her. No, Ellette would have to hunt her down if she was to have any hope of finding her.


    She stopped at the first cafe when the rain was beginning to let up, asking around and getting only head shakes. Then it was on to the library, packed but devoid of the little redhead. She continued on to the coffee shop and splurged. Wrapping her hands around the paper cup she settled into a corner seat to thaw out and dry off a little. There were only two other shops she knew Jessie to frequent. If the woman didn''t manifest, the search would have to wait. Ellette could feel the cold seeping down to her core and if she wasn''t careful she''d be sick for real.


    Cup in hand, she moved on down the street and bumped into a lanky young man. He reached out to steady her, and she laughed when she realized who it was. "Boris? Fancy meeting you like this," she smiled up at him, wiping her lank locks from her eyes. "I hunt for you for more than a year, and now I run into you at random on the street."


    He shrugged. "Funny how that sort of thing happens. You okay, Ellette? You''re soaked through."


    "Yeah, I''ll be heading in shortly. I¡¯m looking for Jessie, though. Have you seen her?"


    He shook his head and then stopped, considering. "What do you need her for?"


    "You remember when I mentioned my dream journals? I''ve got some questions about some of the dreams I''ve been having. She''s pretty good at that sort of thing."


    "Ah," he nodded, then hesitated. "I know a thing or two about dreams. Maybe I could take a look?"


    She sighed. It wasn''t what she''d been hoping for but she couldn''t think of a good explanation. Besides, she liked Boris, and spending time with him would be a welcome distraction. Rand wouldn¡¯t be home until late tonight, and the thought of sitting at home alone wondering and worrying was not appealing.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Ellette answered, happy to share his umbrella. ¡°Let''s head back to the apartment, I¡¯ll pull out my journals and you can psychoanalyze me. It¡¯ll be fun.¡±


    Once Boris was settled in on the couch thumbing through one of her journals, Ellette changed into dry clothes. ¡°So, what do you think?¡± she asked, heading into the kitchen.


    He glanced up. ¡°Ah, well, your dreams are quite vivid, to say the least. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever read any dream journals quite so detailed.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m careful to write them down before I forget.¡± She fished through the fridge. ¡°Want something to drink?¡± She studied a few bottles, ¡°We have, ah... something called kom- buch-ah, coconut water, and some iced tea. I think if I dig in the back there might be some beer if you prefer.¡±


    ¡°No, no, I¡¯m fine,¡± he stood, one of the journals still in hand, ¡°I want to talk to you about this, though.¡±


    She made her way to him, a glass of tea in hand. ¡°What?¡±


    He tapped the page, ¡°This last entry. About this Evelyn woman.¡±


    ¡°Ah, that, that is what I wanted to talk to Jessie about.¡±


    ¡°I can see why. Do you really think Rand is in trouble?¡±


    She shrugged. ¡°It was just a dream. Rand swears it¡¯s paranoia.¡±Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    He sighed and put the journal down. ¡°Ellette, sometimes dreams are more than just dreams.¡±


    She laughed nervously. ¡°You¡¯ve been talking to Jessie...¡±


    He approached her, and she took a step back. ¡°Listen, Ellette. I¡¯m here to help.¡±


    ¡°Help with what?¡± she asked warily, taking another step back.


    He put his hands up. ¡°I know about your dreams...¡±


    A cold feeling rushed over her, and she nearly dropped the glass in her hand. ¡°What do you know?¡± She took another step back, feeling the couch behind her. Her knees felt weak, and the comfort of the cushions beneath her was a relief. She sat down the glass as she stared up at Boris, this tall young man, still very much a boy. He was a college student, nothing else. Or so she had assumed.


    ¡°I know of your dreams.¡± He paused, considering his wording. ¡°I know they take you elsewhere. That you are a champion....¡±


    ¡°A champion?¡± She cut him off.


    ¡°A knight, a paladin, whatever you wish to call it.¡± He continued, undeterred. ¡°You serve the moon, the mother goddess, a beacon of hope in the dark.¡±


    She laughed, but it was a bitter hollow sound. ¡°You¡¯ve been reading too much, too much mythology alongside your psychology.¡± She tried to keep her tone light, but there was an icy grip of suspicion, of anger, of betrayal on her. ¡°No, I know. You¡¯re one of those people, the kind that study psychology because you¡¯re crazy.¡± Do the voices in your head tell you this stuff about me?¡± The words were panicked and all too familiar, she¡¯d taunted Jessie in much the same way, only to realize that the woman knew her, knew what she was perhaps better than she did herself. She fumbled for the phone in her pocket. Rand was on speed dial, or if he really spooked her, she could call the police.


    ¡°Ellette, please.¡± His tone was that cold detached confidence that she both respected and hated in so many psychologists. He sat back down on the bench by the bay window, giving her her space. ¡°Don¡¯t you want answers?¡±


    She shook her head again. ¡°I thought you¡¯d tell me some sort of Freudian theories. You shouldn¡¯t believe in this nonsense...¡±


    ¡°Your talents, they draw attention. I¡¯ve been aware of you for a long time. After Rand found you, I thought I¡¯d done what needed to be done. I assumed he was the one you needed.¡± He shook his head, a stray lock of his slicked-back hair falling into his face. ¡°There¡¯s more, though. Someone else is pulling at the strings of fate.¡±


    ¡°How long, Boris?¡± Ellette growled, hands clenched at her sides. ¡°How long have you been watching me? How long have you known about me?¡± This mysterious threat, it meant little to her. Her mind had locked onto one thing. He¡¯d been watching while she struggled, while she¡¯d begged at back doors of shops for food, worked any odd job she could. Had he been there, watching while Dani suffered and died?


    He shrugged. ¡°It doesn¡¯t really matter.¡±


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter, Boris?¡± Her voice trembled, and she struggled to stay calm. ¡°This is my life! If you could have helped if you¡¯d known, how could you have not done more? I would have done more if I could...¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t like to interfere,¡± his tone was cold and clinical. ¡°My concern is that you¡¯ve drawn the attention of others. And they are, for some reason I cannot fathom, interested in Rand.¡±


    She put her face in her hands, overwhelmed. ¡°I finally feel normal, almost happy, and now this,¡± she muttered, not caring if he overheard. ¡°Now I have to listen to this.¡± She spat the last word, emphasizing the all-encompassing nature of it.


    ¡°It may not mean anything. But warnings are worth heeding. The fact that Rand¡¯s mother reached out to you...¡± He sighed, running his hand through his still-damp hair, sliding the stray locks back into place. ¡°Are you sure she said nothing else?¡±


    Ellette shook her head. ¡°No, no. I couldn¡¯t hold on long enough.¡± She sat up, reason finally breaching her anguish. ¡°What of Jessie? Is she like you?¡±


    Boris laughed then. ¡°Oh, Jessie is like me, in a way. Though her interest in you I think is more passing. She is exactly what she says she is. Fae. She is a wild woman and knows things. Beyond that, she has her own agenda.¡±


    Ellette nodded and sighed. ¡°What about you, Boris? What are you in all of this?¡±


    He grinned, suddenly looking far older than the teenaged body that housed him. ¡°I am a friend to all Dreamwalkers, and have been for centuries...¡±


    ¡°Some good you¡¯ve been up until now...¡± she muttered.


    ¡°Your pain is what made you who you are, what spawned your talents,¡± Boris explained. ¡°I have always been on your side. I made sure that Gloria found you, that Dani found you again. And Rand, how do you think he ended up in this city? He had no idea where to look for you...¡±


    She narrowed her eyes, ¡°I could have used help a lot of times in between then, Boris.¡±


    He shook his head, sadly. ¡°I can only push things to work in your favor.¡± He stood again and went to the couch, crouching to meet her eye to eye. ¡°I just want you to know someone was looking out for you, and still is.¡±


    She spat out another bitter laugh. ¡°I have the shittiest guardian angel in the world. You do have any idea of what I¡¯ve been through? Do you know the living hell my childhood was? I have used some help then.¡±


    He shook his head sadly. ¡°Without that trauma, you would not be who you are today. I found you when you started Walking, not before.¡±


    She sighed and stood, distancing herself from him. All the pain, rage, and frustration she had for the world, for the utter cruelty of it she kept forced down, deep inside was bubbling up within her once more. ¡°I need you to go, Boris. I need to be alone.¡±


    He made his way to the door, and she didn¡¯t turn, didn¡¯t look at him. ¡°Call me when you¡¯re ready,¡± he said and slipped through the door. Settling back down on the couch she felt the familiar presence in her pocket, the subtle stiffness of a piece of paper. Without looking, she knew what it was. A card with Boris¡¯s number.

 14.9 Losing You - Spiraling

    Rand found her that evening in his bed, in that panicked state between waking and dream. A pillow clutched in her arms, she was curled in on herself, mind racing, body tense. He sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. She felt the weight shift on the mattress as he kicked off his shoes. She sat up, thankful for the distraction.


    ¡°I knew Stella would give you a hard time, but you shouldn¡¯t let it...¡± he tried.


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t Stella,¡± she cut him off.


    ¡°Then what, Ellette? What have you sullen and brooding now?¡±  There was an edge to his tone and a surge of guilt washed over her. Here she was worrying about him, anxious for him to return home. Yet she welcomed him with brooding and sharp words.


    "Boris, I ran into Boris..." she muttered.


    "Ah, funny. I ran into Jessie today, told her you were looking for her."


    Ellette studied him, wondering what had conspired between them.  "Did she say something?"


    "That woman, she pries." He shook his head. "No, worse than that. She pushes, provokes."


    Ellette crawled over to him. "She must have really struck a nerve," Ellette managed as gently and she could muster. After her evening, the anger and desperation Boris'' revelation had brought out in her, it was hard to focus, to try and give when she had so little to give.


    "She knows things she shouldn''t, Ellette," he said finally softening and turning to her. ¡°It worries me, especially after what you said happened at the cabin.¡±


    "With your mother?" Ellette wondered.


    He shook his head slowly. ¡°She asked if I¡¯d ever wondered what it would be like to play like I used to.¡± He said no more, letting it sink in.


    ¡°Surely it was just an honest question. I¡¯m not the only one who has longed to hear you play...¡± She stopped herself. It was hard enough for him, but to continually remind him of his loss, it was cruel.


    ¡°She wanted to know if I¡¯d been having strange dreams as well since we¡¯ve gotten so close.¡± He took her hand. ¡°There was so much more behind her questions. She studied me with each one, hoping for a reaction. She left saying how nice it must be to dream so clearly, to be able to be who you want to be for a night, how I must envy you.¡±


    ¡°Do you?¡± she asked, and he squeezed her hand, head bowed.


    ¡°I¡¯d be lying if I didn¡¯t. After the first time, I found myself wishing I could go with you again. I know what a burden you find the walks at times. If I could help... And then, the second time,¡± he looked up, studying her features. ¡°It was a dream come true to play again.¡±


    She reached out to him, fingertips tracing along that face, aged by pain, those eyes that were so deep, and had such an endless capacity for hope, for love. She leaned in to kiss him lightly.


    ¡°I will take you again,¡± she said softly. ¡°Someday.¡± It was a promise she knew she must make and yet was terrified of fulfilling.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    He pressed his forehead against hers. ¡°Not until you¡¯re ready,¡± his voice was breathy and soft, ¡°I know how much it scares you, to not know.¡±


    She closed her eyes, wondering if she would ever feel safe. If her ability would ever feel like a gift again. It was for Rand, but for her, it was swiftly becoming a curse. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to think anymore, Rand,¡± she admitted after a long moment. ¡°Boris... he knows. He knows like Jessie knows.¡±


    ¡°How can that gangly college kid possibly...¡± Rand asked, his voice suddenly gruff with... Ellette looked up, meeting his eyes. Could it be? Was there a hint of jealousy?


    ¡°He ran into me on the street. After all the time I spent looking for him in the past, and now he manages to find me whenever he chooses. So he basically talks me out of finding Jessie and I bring him here to show him my journals. I thought nothing of it, after all, a psychology student, what would he make of dreams, my dreams.¡± She laughed bitterly at the memory. ¡°He didn¡¯t waste much time. He claims he¡¯s ¡®friend to all Dreamwalkers, and has been for centuries,¡¯¡± she quoted. ¡°He even claims he helped you find me.¡±


    Now it was Rand''s turn to stare at her silent and pondering. After a long moment, he reached out to her, pulling her against him. "That''s not entirely bad, is it?"


    She shook her head. "No, but I don''t like it. And what does it mean?  How long has this ¡®kid¡¯ been around? Who are these people manipulating and using me."


    He murmured his agreement. "That''s what bothered me so much about Jessie today. I got this very distinct feeling of being played. That she wants something."


    Ellette pressed her face into him, enjoying the scent of his clothes, faintly medicinal and musky from a day''s worth of work and sweat despite the fact that he changed from his scrubs before coming home. His arms settled around her shoulders, and he rested his cheek on the top of her head. "You wanted answers. If Boris knows something, you should listen I suppose."


    She nodded and pulled away slightly. "It just felt so wrong, Rand. How could he have been watching, just watching all this time?"


    "Honestly, I still don''t see how we managed to run into each other during that heatwave. How I managed to find an apartment near the same park you frequent. I thought it was fate."


    "Fate, or a kid named Boris who is a lot older than he lets on." She put her cheek back against him and closed her eyes. It was exhausting, all of it. From Evelyn to Jessie, to Boris. Just a couple of days prior they had been content to build their relationship, that had been all that had mattered. Just the two of them. Jessie had been an odd busking companion of Rand''s and Boris had been a chance encounter that had turned into a budding friendship. Seemingly overnight everything had changed.


    Rand stroked her hair. "It''s just a lot to take all at once. It''ll be fine. Answers are what you wanted, what we both needed, right?"


    She nodded. "Answers would be good..."


    With that, Rand loosened his hold on her and shifted to stand. "I''m exhausted. It was like everyone at work left everything for me. Then we lost a patient. I was already in a bad mood Jessie finds me on my way home, starts in on me with her cryptic questions. At this point, all I want is a good night''s sleep."


    "That would be nice," Ellette muttered.


    Rand reached out and ruffled her hair. "Remember what Jessie told you before."


    "I know, don''t fight it. " She wrapped her arms around her knees. "It would help if I didn''t feel like I was being used."


    Rand, changing into his sweats nodded and considered. "Haven''t you always been used, granted, you always assumed it was for the greater good, in these dreamwalks?"


    "But now it¡¯s complicated. It¡¯s like I can see the strings. I liked to dream to escape, to be better than I am, and it turns out all I am is a pawn..."


    "Like you no longer have control..." His voice was soft with reminiscence. "Believe me, I know the feeling."


    She nodded, life spiraling out of control, it was a familiarly gut-wrenching feeling. It was what got her into this mess. She¡¯d broken through the barriers of her own mind to escape a reality that was beyond her control. Dreams had been an escape. She had been the powerful one helping those in need, guided by a benevolent mother. Now that same benevolent hand felt more oppressive, controlling, and demanding. Not only that, but there were others watching. Waking or sleeping, her life as not hers. And she was beginning to wonder if it had ever been.

 14.10 Losing You - Fading

    Ellette retired to the living room and her old, familiar pull out couch. She¡¯d been considering investing in a futon, but since she¡¯d not needed to use the couch since they¡¯d moved, she¡¯d forgotten how uncomfortable the old bed had become. Laying down, she couldn¡¯t help but wish for the warmth of Rand beside her. Ellette found herself studying the card that Boris had left.


    Did she dare call him? Was she ready for what he had to tell her? She sighed, fingering the worn and fraying edges. It was easy enough to explain away its appearance in her pocket. It was the one she¡¯d picked up from that cafe long ago. Though she hadn¡¯t seen it for ages, she could reason that she¡¯d simply forgotten it had been in her pocket.


    Of course, considering her talents and the stresses in her life of late, it was also becoming easier to believe he¡¯d put it there by some magical means. After a while, she put the wrinkled card down on the side table and rolled over on her side. Sleep came with difficulty, she was cold, restless, and fearful of what her dreams would bring.


    She awoke from a blissfully dreamless rest to the sounds of Rand in the kitchen. Groggy and disoriented, she sat up to look over the back of the couch. It was still dark out, and while the days had been growing shorter, she was sure it was still too early, especially after he¡¯d worked such a late shift the night before.


    ¡°What are you doing up?¡± Her voice was slurred, and she rubbed her eyes, blinking to focus. He¡¯d turned on the light over the stove, but it didn¡¯t do much to illuminate the kitchen.


    ¡°Looking for the Advil...¡± he muttered, and a clatter of pill bottles spilling from the small medicine cabinet followed.


    She forced her heavy lids open and climbed to her feet. ¡°Headache?¡± she asked, making her way to the kitchen, shivering slightly outside the cocoon of her blankets.


    ¡°Fever I think,¡± his voice was groggy and muted as he bent to gather up the bottles. She crouched to help him, taking the bottles.


    Setting them on the table, she put a hand on his forehead. He was indeed feverish. ¡°You¡¯re burning up. Go sit, I¡¯ll find the medicine.¡± He nodded, clearly relieved, and shuffled to the couch. He sat down hard, leaning back against the couch back.


    He¡¯d managed to spill the majority of their small stash of bottles, and she had to fish a couple from under the cabinets before she was able to find the right one. She fumbled around in the fridge for a carton of coconut water, something he seemed to enjoy, and brought him pills. She stood for a moment, staring down at him, his hand on his forehead, eyes closed. He was still, his eyes pressed closed, his mouth set in a hard line as if fighting some internal battle. She reached out to him once more, fingers brushing against his forehead; it was creased, his face set in lines she was not familiar with. He was the optimist, his features, while well lined with grief, always seemed to soften into the rare, kind soul he was. To see him struggling, it set her on edge.


    She cleared her throat. ¡°Is coconut water okay?¡±


    He nodded and took the offered medicine and drink. She settled onto the couch, the heat radiating from him was unnerving. He was never ill. Despite his work, or perhaps because of his work, he didn¡¯t ever seem to pick up the colds or the flu that made their rounds. Between health foods, yoga, and his very nature, she¡¯d begun to think he couldn¡¯t get sick.


    ¡°Is there something going around at work?¡± she asked, and took the drink from him, setting it down on the table beside the couch. He hadn¡¯t moved except to swallow the pills.


    He shook his head slowly. ¡°I don¡¯t think so... nothing more than usual,¡± he muttered.


    ¡°Maybe something at the cabin?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s my throat. It¡¯s been a while, but my tonsils...¡± he sighed and reached for the carton, taking a long drink. ¡°Should have had them removed. I¡¯ll be fine in a day or so.¡±


    She felt so oddly out of place, sitting beside him, wondering what to do. He¡¯d always cared for her, through all the times she¡¯d stupidly stayed out in the cold, gotten herself sick.  ¡°Let''s get you back to bed,¡± she tried, slipping her hand into his. She tugged at him, attempting to get him to rise from the couch.  He didn¡¯t budge, only squeezed her fingers.


    ¡°No, stay. Stay here,¡± he muttered, pulling her towards him.


    She laughed, ¡°I can¡¯t Rand. You know I can¡¯t.¡°


    ¡°You owe me,¡± he tried weakly, and she laughed again.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    ¡°I owe you?¡±


    ¡°Take care of me,¡± he said with a pout, and she laughed again. She could tell he was uncomfortable, exhausted, and in pain, but he was still trying to put her at ease. Of course, he was also trying to manipulate her, but she didn''t mind that so much. She wished dearly she could stay beside him. The distance she''d put back in place between them was uncomfortable and cold.


    ¡°I am! That''s why I want you to go to bed," she urged, tugging at his hand again.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to," he replied stubbornly. ¡°Not without you.¡±


    She sighed and climbed onto the couch beside him. There was no use explaining, he knew what she feared. He leaned against her, and she put her arm around his shoulders. His body was burning, but with the increasing chill that Autumn had brought, she didn''t mind it. She''d missed his warmth, craved his closeness. With his head resting on her chest, she felt a pang of nostalgia of the times she''d cared for Dani, and of those desperate weeks before her passing.  It sent a chill through her.


    "You really should go to bed," she tried again.


    ¡°It¡¯ll be fine,¡± he murmured and slipped his arms around her body as if to emphasize the fact that he had no intention of leaving. With a sigh, she gave in, determined to stay awake, to care for him as he''d done so many times before for her.


    * * *


    She woke with a gasp, the sun pouring in through the windows, her phone¡¯s alarm blaring. Rand was still beside her, his dark face flushed and still hot to the touch.


    ¡°Damn it,¡± she cursed. She hadn''t meant to fall asleep. He''d needed her awake, to make sure the fever broke. Most of all, she''d chanced taking him with her into the dreamrealm. Her thoughts were groggy, sluggish, and hazy. There was not the clarity, the sharp transition from one reality to the next that she normally experienced when waking from a dreamwalk. It was a relief, she''d failed to care for him, but at least she hadn''t risked pulling him further into the strange alternate reality that was her dreams.


    ¡°Rand.¡± She shook his shoulder. ¡°You need to take something, your fever¡¯s still not down.¡± His head rolled to one side, but he didn¡¯t respond. She tried again, shaking him more vigorously. ¡°Come on, you should probably take a cool shower too." He could be a deep sleeper, and she knew he was ill, but this was unusual. There was no hint of waking, no groan or protest, not even the faintest sign that her words or movement had been heard or felt.


    Her heart began to pick up in pace as she considered that there might be something more. She pushed the thought away. He would wake, he just needed more prompting. She climbed from the couch and headed to the kitchen. A cold cloth, a few more shakes, he¡¯d come round, she reasoned. As she ran a dish towel under the faucet, a flicker of memory flashed across her mind¡¯s eye. She¡¯d dreamt of the cabin. It had been hazy, more dream-like in quality than her normal dreams.


    She returned to the couch and placed the cloth on his forehead before pulling the covers loose from around him. One way or another she would cool him down. She began to tug at his shirt, pulling it up, struggling to get it loose from his arms and over his head. Every inch of him was hot to the touch, more so than she''d even realized. Her fingers, icy cold across the bare flesh of his stomach didn''t elicit even a flinch. Normally he''d be slapping her away, gathering up her hands in his own to warm them.


    Her heart clenched and there was another flicker, a memory. Rand had been there, in the cabin, talking. He¡¯s spoken to someone, but not her. Evelyn, had been Evelyn?


    She couldn¡¯t contain the rising panic any longer, she shook him fiercely, her voice shrill in her own ears. ¡°Rand, come on! I know you hear me!¡±


    Nothing. His chest continued to rise and fall, his breath shallow but steady. At least there was that. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath and leaned towards him, their foreheads touching. "Please Rand," she whispered. "I need you to wake up."


    A vision flooded over her.


    She found herself standing outside the cabin, the air thick with fog. Sounds echoed around her, sharp and dull all at once. All light was strangely muted, the world seemed to be in sepia tones.


    It was then that she heard the thunder of feet pounding up the steps into the cabin. Rand¡¯s voice rang out, clear and haunting. ¡°Mother! You¡¯re here,¡± he exclaimed, sounding so young. Yet, as Ellette had strained to see, moved to follow, she was frozen in place.


    ¡°Rand, oh, Rand,¡± Evelyn¡¯s voice was pained as they embraced. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be here.¡±


    Ellette nodded in agreement. She hadn¡¯t meant to come and she certainly hadn''t meant to bring him here. Fear pounded in her chest.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± his voice was soft barely audible from where she stood. ¡°It¡¯s summer. We spend every summer here.¡±


    ¡°No, no it¡¯s not,¡± Evelyn explained, her voice trembling, as if on the verge of tears. ¡°It is autumn, time to go home, my dear. Time to wake up.¡±


    Rand laughed then and walked out to the porch. Ellette reached towards him, but her arms would not obey, nor would her legs. She strained, but it was futile. He was blissfully unaware of her struggle, and she couldn''t help but see the broad smile that lit his features. His hands, healed and whole. He was happy here, happier than she''d ever known him.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about," he replied. "It¡¯s a gorgeous summer. I can¡¯t wait to go out on the lake.¡±


    ¡°You have to go home, Rand,¡± Evelyn urged, ¡°Go back to Ellette.¡± Her voice cracked.


    He turned back to his mother, his voice was strained, questioning. ¡°Ellette?¡±


    The confusion of that utterance pained Ellette. Had he forgotten her so easily? She opened her mouth to speak, to call out to him, but no sound would come. The air was too thick, it stuck in her throat, like the same paralysis that held her in place. it was then that she felt the tell-tale tingling at the base of her skull


    ¡°No!¡± she managed to choke out. But it was too late, she was already beginning to fade. Yet while dreams normally transitioned to waking almost instantaneously, this time she seemed to hang in limbo, thoughts muddled hazy, forgetting. Then, all at once, she woke.

 14.11 Losing You - Lost

    Ellette¡¯s eyes flew open, and she stared down at Rand, unresponsive, and wracked with fever. She had to wake him up, he had to remember. There was no other choice, she couldn¡¯t imagine her life... No. She refused to finish the thought.  The decision was made before she could hesitate. She slapped him hard. Tears welled in her eyes as his cheek reddened from the assault.


    ¡°You idiot!¡± she screamed. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you just go back to bed?¡± She shook his shoulders again, the tears burning trails down her cheeks. Hands trembled as she touched his reddened cheek, guilt knotting hard in her stomach. ¡°What do I do now?¡± she whispered, utterly lost.


    It was then that it hit her, fully, and her knees gave way. She crumpled to the floor, her hands finding his own limp hand.  She pressed her forehead against it, her fingers working over the scars, the fingers she¡¯d worked to massage, the fingers that played the music that calmed and soothed her, the hand that had rescued her, held her, loved her. It was all she could do as the darkness, the despair washed over her, wave after wave.


    At some point, though, she was able to crawl her way back to the surface. He needed help, medical or otherwise. She fumbled for her phone on the side table. As she did so, she noticed the scrap of paper lying beside it. Boris. Boris said he understood, could help. She could barely see through the tears to read the number, to dial.


    ¡°Well, that was sooner than I expected.¡± The words barely registered, his voice cheery and unreal in her present hell. She stared at the phone. ¡°Hello?¡± Came the voice from the other end.


    ¡°He won''t wake up!¡± she choked out, the only thought that made sense, her only concern. The tears flooded from her eyes anew, as if saying it aloud made it more real, more horrifying than the nightmare she¡¯d found herself in.  The vice on her heart twisted.


    There was a soft curse and then silence.


    ¡°You said you could help,¡± she whispered, still staring down at the device, her link between the here and now and hope. It was all she could get out before her throat closed and her voice was lost in the wracking sobs she couldn¡¯t control. It hurt, to feel so raw, so vulnerable, so open. She¡¯d closed herself off for so long so she wouldn¡¯t have to feel, so she wouldn¡¯t have to know pain like this. And then he¡¯d come into her life, let her feel safe, loved. It was worse than the abuse, worse than the loneliness. The abyss that threatened to swallow her now was vast, deep, and endless.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be there in five minutes. Don¡¯t call anyone else yet.¡±


    The phone fell from her hand and she bowed her head. After some time she became aware of a pounding. Then her phone blared to life and she stared at it where it buzzed and danced on the floor. The pounding continued, and then a muffled, ¡°Ellette! Open the door!¡±


    Some part of her mind must have registered the meaning behind the words because she climbed to her feet and made her way towards the sound. The pounding grew louder, and she covered her ears.


    ¡°Come on, Ellette! It¡¯s Boris.¡±


    She nodded, feeling the command of his words, and reached for the bolt. With the click of the lock, the pounding stopped. The relief was sudden, and she closed her eyes. It was a short-lived respite.  His voice came again, ¡°Ellette, I need you to open the door.¡±


    Her hand obeyed, turning the knob. The door opened, and she stumbled back. Boris slipped in and shut the door behind him, quickly taking her in; her vacant expression, puffy reddened face. He put his hands on her shoulders lightly and she leaned into him. Boris smelled wrong, felt wrong, his shirt starched and stiff, his hands on her shoulders boney, cold. He didn''t pull her to him, didn''t stroke her hair, or soothe her. Nothing about his attempt to comfort her was right. She stiffened and pulled away.


    ¡°He¡¯s gone. It¡¯s my fault,¡± she managed between shuddering gasps.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know that.¡± Boris¡¯s tone was firm, commanding. ¡°Is he still breathing?¡±


    The question, so blunt, so rational. ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Sit. I''ll check on him,¡± he steered her to the stool in the kitchen before moving into the living room to where Rand lay on the couch. Ellette watched, feeling strangely detached as if a spectator in her own life. Time seemed to spin on and she sank into herself, retreating into the comforting blackness, the shelter of her own mind.


    At some point, more people arrived. Equipment, a stretcher, and then she realized they were taking him. ¡°No, no!¡± she scrambled to her feet, grabbing at the nearest paramedic. ¡°You can¡¯t take him!¡±


    Boris was there, hand firm on her arm, voice in her ear. ¡°He¡¯s sick. They¡¯ll get the fever under control.¡± She nodded and he steered her out of the way. ¡°I have your shoes,¡± he told her. ¡°Put them on.¡± She did as she was told, and he put a jacket over her shoulders. ¡°We¡¯ll follow the ambulance to the hospital.¡±


    She stood staring out the door, not entirely sure how long the paramedics been gone. She felt lost, the world around her draped in shadows, all sounds muffled and distant. It couldn¡¯t really be real, could it? Surely it was all a dream. A horrible nightmare. ¡°Why can¡¯t I wake up?¡± she said softly, and then dropped to a crouch, head in her hands.


    Boris crouched down beside her. ¡°You are stronger than this,¡± he told her.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    She nodded and took a deep breath. He was right. She could be strong, she would be strong. She owed it to Rand. If she¡¯d ever needed a reason to fight, to be strong, this was it.


    Boris was beside her as she climbed to her feet, broken yet determined. ¡°Let''s go,¡± she said, her voice still rough with grief.


    * * *


    She went through the motions of the next few hours in a haze. She managed to remember to call Rand''s work as well as her own. The doctors had asked about family and she found Rand¡¯s father¡¯s number. Boris made the call.  The thought of calling up Rand''s father with news of his son''s condition, she couldn''t do it again.


    The first time, all those years ago in the guise of her confident dream self, she hadn''t known him as anything more than a talented musician down on his luck in the worst way. Now, who he was encompassed such a large part of her own life, the thought of him leaving a void as Dani had done before, she couldn''t even fathom.


    The difference was, with Dani, she''d been the strong one. She''d been the caretaker, had stayed strong for her sister. Now, she felt as if the ground had been knocked out from under her. She was slipping into a void, and she didn''t know if she cared to climb out.


    She wasn¡¯t surprised by the prognosis. They''d determined that he must have had a seizure caused by the high fever. There was no knowing if or when he''d wake. Her fears had been realized. She''d not been awake to care for his body, and worse yet, she''d given his spirit a path to travel. It was impossible to not blame herself, she was the reason he was here, one way or another. She''d failed him.


    Only after he¡¯d been stabilized was she allowed to see him, and then only after his father had come and gone. They exchanged few words, and she was thankful when he¡¯d taken his leave. Boris had stood by through it all, arms crossed, and managed to look surprisingly intimidating. Gone was the guise of a gangly college student. In his place stood the well-groomed doctor he¡¯d been supposedly in school to become. He spoke with the nurses and doctors with a knowledgeable air and kept Ellette informed.


    When they finally called her in, it was late into the evening, and she was exhausted. The halls were sterile and white, the room wasn¡¯t much of a room, just a line of beds and a curtain to provide some semblance of privacy. She was assured he would be moved to a private room, at the request of Mr. Edhi, but at the moment, he needed to be where he was. She didn¡¯t much care, only nodded and moved forward, step after step towards that blue and white hospital bed. She paused at the foot, finding it hard to equate the figure laced with tubes and wires to the man she¡¯d grown to know. He was so still, not vibrant and alive. He was just there, a shell, a body.


    She shuffled forward, careful to only briefly glance over the IVs and other equipment. She searched for any sign of normalcy and found his right hand devoid of tubes or wires. She pulled the chair up close to his bedside and took it. It was warm, but no longer feverishly so. The buzz of equipment, the sounds of the nurses and other patients were distracting. It was hard to feel the connection she longed for, to see him as the man he¡¯d been instead of the body in the bed.


    She focused on the hand she held, the scars, the lines, veins, joints, tendons. She worked to massage every inch as if he¡¯d played all evening in the cold and ached from the effort. Then the hot moisture splashed down on the flesh, one droplet at a time. It took some time for her to realize the source as her vision blurred and her face burned. She was crying, she¡¯d thought she¡¯d already exhausted every bit of emotion, wrung out the last bit of moisture.


    A hand was on her shoulder, a tissue offered. She took it, wiping at Rand¡¯s hand before even realizing she should work to stanch the flow from her eyes. The sobs came, softer now, not so paralyzing, but she couldn¡¯t force these emotions down. She held onto his hand, ragged and scarred. After a time, the pressure of a hand was on her shoulder, a voice in her ear.


    ¡°You should get some rest,¡± he was saying.


    She didn''t want to hear, didn¡¯t want to leave. This was where she belonged. There was no home, only an apartment filled with things, reminders, memories. She found her voice. ¡°I can¡¯t...¡± she managed. Then an explanation. ¡°I can¡¯t go home.¡±


    ¡°Rest would do you good,¡± came that oh-so reasonable voice.


    ¡°I can¡¯t I can¡¯t go back there, not yet.¡±


    A nurse, kindly and sympathetic spoke up. ¡°Go on, Hunny. Your boyfriend here, he¡¯s in good hands.¡±


    She shook her head, the words didn''t sit right. ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°He needs me.¡± Though she wasn¡¯t sure what she could do, she knew she was the only one who could bring him back. Leaving him now felt wrong.


    There was hushed conversation behind her. Boris was speaking on her behalf, as he¡¯d done all day. She owed him, but now, all she could think was how she was in the only place she could imagine being, and how she longed to climb into his bed beside Rand and sleep. If only she could slip into dream with him, escape to the cabin. She¡¯d be content to spend an eternity of lazy summer days by his side.


    She bowed her head, forehead pressed to his hand. Surely she could slip into his dreams as she¡¯d been able to bring him with her into her dreams. Eyes pressed closed, exhaustion overwhelming her, she thought of only one thing, rejoining him. She felt herself slipping and pushed, pushed through the haze of sleep, willing herself to go to him.


    ¡°Come on, Ellette. You can stay at my place tonight,¡± Boris¡¯s voice, an unwelcome distraction brought her back to the present.


    She clenched her eyes shut, willing him away.


    ¡°The nurses have given you your space, but it is time to go,¡± his voice was firm now, commanding. Impossible to ignore. She sat up. Perhaps he was right. Maybe it was best she left and came back with a clear head. She squeezed Rand¡¯s hand and bent to kiss his forehead. She hesitated and looked to Boris.


    ¡°Can¡¯t I stay? I mean, I can try...¡± she pleaded. ¡°If I¡¯m here, maybe I can get through, bring him around.¡±


    ¡°She can stay if she likes.¡± The nurse chimed in. ¡°We find the comfort of a loved one can do wonders. He¡¯s stable.¡±


    Boris shook his head, his pale eyes hard. ¡°No.  She needs rest,¡± he said again, his eyes flitting to the listening nurse and back to her. ¡°You need food, a shower, rest. I have a spare room. You won¡¯t have to be alone, but you shouldn¡¯t stay here.¡± There it was again, that commanding tone. She was too weary to fight it, the way his words felt so right, so reasonable.


    She stood, still clinging to Rand¡¯s hand. She let her fingers trace over the lines, the scars, closed her eyes, remembering, cherishing this last moment. With a sigh, she let him go. ¡°I¡¯ll be back, Rand,¡± she told him before turning to Boris.


    Boris nodded, placing a guiding hand on her shoulder. ¡°It will get better, Ellette. I will help you.¡±


    Again, those words. They hung ominously between them and she couldn¡¯t help but wonder at the fact that despite his promise, the worst yet had happened. Boris had come to swear his friendship and guidance and then Rand was ripped from her, leaving her in such dire need. She bowed her head, forcing back the doubt. Perhaps it would make more sense in the morning.

 14.12 Losing You - the sign

    Boris'' apartment was in a pristine, stately old building on the upscale end of the Leeson Park district. Calling it an apartment was something of an understatement. He had the entire upper floor to himself. As she had in at Rand''s family''s house, she felt out of place and stood stiffly in the doorway, her arms wrapped about herself.


    Boris settled in with ease, tossing down his keys and flipping on lights and appliances. He was talking all the while, but the words didn''t register. Ellette was captivated by the view from the wall of windows across from her. She stood staring, blinking her painful, reddened eyes.


    Boris had physically steer her into the spare room before handing her a pair of sweats and a tshirt. "Here, I know you''re still in your pajamas from earlier, but if you''d like to change into something clean? I might have some other things that will fit you for tomorrow. There is a bathroom attached to this room, so help yourself. I''ll order delivery. What do you like? I was thinking some curry. Or maybe you''d prefer some soup?"


    She shook her head. Though her stomach rumbled noisily, the thought of food wasn''t something she could concentrate on right now.


    Boris continued as if her lack of response was perfectly normal. "I''ll order something light. Miso soup maybe? Oh, no, I know. Pho." He turned from her, already dialing and left her to clean herself up while he ordered.


    Ellette found the bathroom and put the clothes down on the counter, stripped and climbed into the bath. She turned on the shower and let the hot water pulse over her until the room was filled with steam and the bath was nearly brimming. She turned off the faucet and let herself slip under the water, staring up through the liquid distortion at the tiled ceiling.


    It was tempting to stay under, to let herself drown, though she knew her body would fight it, that she wouldn''t succeed. Even if she did, she would be failing Rand. He needed her, as helpless as she was to help him. She would find a way. With that, she exhaled and sat up. The water had helped to ease the ache in her body and sooth the puffiness and pain in her tear reddened eyes.


    There was a knock at the door, and Boris'' voice came through, too cheery, too persistent. "I have soup! It looks amazing, come out and have some."


    She sighed and climbed from the bath, finding a luxuriously thick rope to wrap herself in. She couldn''t help but wonder how often he had guests. Dressed in the borrowed clothes, her hair still damp, she shuffled out to the living room where he sat with takeout packages lining the coffee table. The TV was blaring and filling the darkened room with light. Ellette sat down beside him.


    ¡°Just look at this spread,¡± he said cheerily. ¡° I know you haven¡¯t eaten all day, so I ordered extra.¡±


    She nodded, taking the offered bowl of soup and chopsticks. Her stomach rumbled again and she realized just how amazing it smelled "Thank you, she murmured, and dug in. About half way through, her nose was running from the heat, and her body, now nourished allowed her to feel once more. The tears started before she''d realized and she dropped the chopsticks.


    She grabbed for the napkin, quickly dabbing at her face to blot away the tears. Determined, she sniffled and wiped her nose. ¡°Nothing like all that steam to clear your sinuses," she tried febely. She excused herself to the bathroom. There she blew her nose and made an attempt to fix her hair. Appearances, even when one was broken and weary, still mattered. She¡¯d learned this long ago on the streets. Look confident even in rags and people would think twice before messing with you.


    She took a deep breath and returned to the living room. She wouldn¡¯t let Boris intimidate her or let him see her as  vulnerable. Not anymore. ¡°So, what happens now Mr. Friend of the DreamWalkers? You my new guardian? I am an adult, so I can probably handle things from here.¡±


    He laughed and muted the TV. ¡°See, I told you you needed some food. Mortal bodies are finicky like that. Feel a little better now?¡±


    She nodded and sat back on the couch, her arms crossed over her chest. ¡°I mean it, though, what happens now?¡±


    ¡°Now we look into what is going on in the Otherworld. I have two theories. Either mother, I mean, the Moon Goddess has other plans for your dear bard, or we¡¯re dealing with a rogue fae. Neither would surprise me. Fae like to meddle and have been known to kidnap... ¡±


    ¡°What about Jessie, didn¡¯t you say she was fae?¡±


    Boris shook his head. ¡°Fae yes, but she¡¯s fairly benign. Or at least she has been for decades. Just a wanderer, a bard herself. She has worked with me on many occasion, I wouldn¡¯t think she¡¯d meddle with one of the Moon¡¯s own.¡±


    ¡°But Rand isn¡¯t a servant of the Moon. I am.¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°The Mother Goddess has assisted him on more than one occasion, has she not? He has traveled with you where only the DreamWalkers tred.¡±Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    She put up a hand. ¡°Wait, wait, wait. The fact that I took him with me, that''s not normal?¡± she pinched the bridge of her nose, her head beginning to ache once more. ¡°And better yet, how do you even know about that?¡±


    ¡°It is easy enough for those in the Otherworld to notice when you pass. A DreamWalker isn¡¯t of much interest. Your kind has been around for a long time. Granted, you¡¯re a bit more... ah, talented than most, but still, perfectly normal. But when you brought the bard through with you, that was noticed. The first time was a fluke, or so the murmurs and whispers all seemed to agree. The second time was a sign.¡±


    She shook her head, it was all she could take. Everything was moving too fast, she was too tired, still too grief stricken to cope. ¡°I, think I need to sleep,¡± she said simply. ¡°I can¡¯t even begin to process this.¡± She sighed and stood. ¡°Listen, Boris, thank you for everything, but I think I need some time.¡±


    He glanced up at her, brows raised. ¡°Oh? Fair enough. Go, go sleep. Rand is in good hands. I¡¯ll see what I can find. When you¡¯re ready, just call.¡±


    * * *


    She managed to go to work the next day and then the next after that. Soon, she grew used to chilling absence, the painful gap left in her life. Rand''s room stayed dark, his things untouched. Boris met her often to check in on her, to make sure she was eating. Rand''s father came by to discuss their financial situation, to deal with the fact that Rand''s insurance would only cover so much. He''d assured Ellette that he would to take care of the medical bills, but Ellette would need to take care of her own financial arrangements. It was fair enough, and she accepted the fact that she''d either have to find a new apartment or rely on Boris¡¯ generosity once more. Neither she was quite ready to deal with. She wanted to cherish every last minute in their apartment. It was precious, this perfect place that he had found to make her happy, for them both to start their life together in.


    Reality was once more a bleak, endless struggle. Dreams were an escape, but she no longer felt fulfilled by her duties, by the path she had previously blazed. Now, she trudged through each night because it was better than her waking reality, but not by much. Work was work.Long, monotonous, a use of time, a way to pass the day.


    She climbed on the bus, crowded and comfortingly warm after the wait on the cold curb, the air thick with moisture and a near constant drizzle. She didn''t bother to pull off her scarf or hat, just sat, uncomfortably warm, wedged into her seat. Her stop wasn''t too far. Fifteen minutes, hardly even worth the wait.


    The bus managed to break down three stops from home. Just a walk across the park. She''d avoided that wilderness for a reason. Memories, places, people that occupied that space were amongst the many things she was doing her best to avoid. Rand had played there often, and they''d walked those paths together frequently. The knowledge that she might never see him there, walk with him hand in hand, it was barely tolerable.


    She climbed from the bus as most the other passengers had, out into the damp.  It would be just a short walk, only a few minutes to cut across the damp park. There were sure to be hardly a soul there in the weather today. She set off, hat pulled down low over her ears, scarf wrapped around her face, hands thrust into her pockets.


    Her boots crunched noisily along the gravel path, the only sound in the muffled air.  The quiet of the park was only broken by an occasional rustle in the trees. Even the wildlife had settled in to wait out the rain.  The stillness around her made the thread of a melody all the more clear.  It was hauntingly familiar. She looked up, searching out the source. Her heart came alive, fluttering with hope.


    It was him, wasn''t it? He was the only one she''d ever heard play that melody. Thats when it hit her. He couldn''t be out here, especially playing that song. It was a secret song, precocious and reserved. It was a song he''d played for his son and only on a rare occasion for her. It was soothing, sweet and haunting. Certainly not the sort of music to draw a crowd.


    She picked up her pace, searching out the sound. If he was here, did he know the bus broke down? Was this way of surprising her? The hope that bloomed in her chest made it hard to breathe. Did she dare humor such an impossible hope?


    The tune was so clear. There. The musician was just ahead, just behind the tree at opposite side of the bridge. Rand had played there often, it was a popular spot. Then, she saw the player, a woman, petite, freckled, fair and with a mass of auburn curls that obscured her face, wild and fizzy in the damp autumn air. Rage quickly replaced the hope that had filled her just moments ago.


    "How do you know that song?" Ellette growled, stepping up to Jessie and stilling her playing with a firm hand of the neck of the guitar.


    The little woman grinned and put her hands up, letting the guitar hang loosely from its strap. "Easy, Elly girl! It''s pretty, isn''t it?"


    "Answer the question, Jessie. That song, where did you learn it?"


    "Well, Rand of course."


    She shook her head. "That song is special, he wouldn''t have played it for you."


    Jessie shrugged and leaned against the tree, gazing up at Ellette with infuriating calm. "He plays it all the time."


    "Since when?" Ellette exclaimed. "He''s been in the hospital for the last week. He almost never plays that song."


    "Well, he plays it now. Over and over. Haven''t you heard him?"


    "Did you not hear me, woman? He''s in the hospital! He hasn''t played a single note in over a week." Ellette was trembling now. She''d fought to avoid all things Rand, to keep a handle on her emotions, to stay numb, safe, and just get through the days.


    "You off all people should be able to hear him," Jessie shrugged. "Such gifts are wasted on you, girl."


    Ellette couldn''t contain herself any longer. She reached out and grabbed Jessie by the collar of her shirt, thrusting the smaller woman hard against the tree. "Tell me now! Where is he? I dreamwalk every night, and I can''t find him. Don''t you think I would if I could?"


    Jessie only laughed. "So passionate, so powerful, and yet so blind."


    "Shut up!" Ellette snapped.


    Jessie clamped her mouth shut and smirked.


    Ellette released the woman and stepped back. "Why do you taunt and torment me?"


    Jessie only shrugged and reached for her guitar. Ellette sighed as the woman began strumming once more. She walked away, escaping the haunting melody as swifty as she could. Once she felt as if she could breathe again, think rationally, she knew what she needed to do. She was dialing the number before she''d even realized she''d gotten out her phone.


    "Boris? Jessie¡¯s seen Rand, heard him play.¡±


    ¡°I take it this means you¡¯re ready?¡± his tone was predictably smug.


    ¡°Yes. I''m going to find him.¡±


    ______________________________________________

 Tynged: Book Two of The DreamWalker Series

    A tynged


    ("doom, fate, destiny", plural tynghedau)


    is the Welsh equivalent of the Irish geis, the most famous of which were those that Arianrhod placed on her son Lleu Llaw Gyffes in the fourth of the Four Branches of the Mabinogi, the Mabinogi of Math fab Mathonwy.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.__________________________________________________________

 1.1 Curse of the Dreamwalker

    Nothing had changed. If anything, the only notable difference was that he was beginning to lose muscle. It made her ache to see him wasting away like this. He''d been wiry, sure, but not thin, not weak. She massaged his scarred and calloused fingers, caressed his hand. If he could feel her, she knew that this gesture would remind him of her, of their connection. The buzz and beeps of the equipment, the sounds of the staff in the hall had become familiar and almost comforting. With a heavy sigh, she curled up in the chair, ready to settle in for an afternoon of napping by his side.


    It was not to be. She recognized the footsteps, the self-assured voice in the hall as he greeted the nurses with a charming nonchalance. Charming, that is, to those who didn''t know better. Ellette sighed and sat up in anticipation of the knock on the door.


    He didn''t wait for a response before pushing his way in. "Thought I''d find you here. Anytime your phone''s off, this is the place to look," he said, with none of the reserved air or hushed tones that the nurses or other visitors used. No, he was perfectly comfortable, and not at all concerned that he might be treading on raw emotions.


    "I turn off my phone so you won''t bother me," Ellette muttered. She sighed and kept her focus on the man in the bed, knowing her time with him would soon be cut short.


    "Ah, well, I just assumed it was because out of courtesy to the other patients," he glanced around, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the doorway. "Either way, let''s get out of here. We''ve got work to do if you want sleeping beauty here to wake up anytime soon."


    Boris, of course, was right. Nothing she''d done on her own had brought her beloved Rand back to his body. If there was to be any hope of him waking, Boris and his connections to the Otherworld were her only hope. "Just.." she traced her hand along Rand''s hairline, his skin pale and sickly under his dark complexion. "Just give me a few minutes, okay?"


    The blond man in the doorway shrugged and slipped out the door. She could hear him start up a conversation with one of the nurses at the nearest station and was content that she would have a good few minutes of him flirting and chatting the poor woman up.


    She ran her fingers through Rand''s hair. It was oily, though not unclean. They were caring for him well enough, but he would have never have let his hair get like this. She couldn''t help but notice how long it was. It would be hanging in his face, and she''d be on him to get it trimmed, even threatening to cut it herself. She did her best to work it into the style he usually wore it in, parted in the middle, tucked behind his ears. She bent to kiss his forehead and whisper in his ear.


    "I don''t know if you can hear me, but I''m going to bring you back. I''ll get our apartment back, and we''ll be sitting in that beautiful bay window overlooking the park in no time. I promise. You and me." She laughed then, straightening a little. "I miss your cooking. You have no idea. Boris lives off of take-out. I''m getting fat. Me. Fat," she bowed her head a little, emotion rushing in. "I miss you so much."


    With that, she kissed his cheek, squeezed his hand, and turned away. If she stayed any longer she wouldn''t be able to blink away the tears. Puffy red eyes had become too regular a look for her. She was determined to change that.


    * * *


    "Make sure to dress warmly," Boris ordered as he tossed the box of pizza down on the table. Ellette sighed and turned away in disgust.


    "You couldn''t even get a salad with that? I''m going to break out like a teenager from all this grease."


    "Nothing''s keeping you from doing your own shopping," Boris quipped back.


    "You know how horrible my cooking is..."


    "Then don''t complain," he said around a massive bite of pizza. "God. This stuff is good. Growing up, the food... I mean, we had grand ''ole feasts and such, but nothing compares to the crazy stuff I can get in this city. Thank god for immigrants."


    She rolled her eyes and pulled on a hoodie before fishing her hat and scarf from the closet and putting them beside her messenger bag. "What does pizza have to do with immigrants? What you''ve got there is in no way authentic Italian."


    "No," he chewed, "but the rest of the food I like is. Mongolian, Thai, Korean, Chinese, Vietnamese, Indian, Middle Eastern, Spanish, Italian, Irish, need I go on? I can order it all, and then, if they don''t deliver, I can call a guy to deliver it for me. Heaven, I tell you."


    Ellette only sighed and settled on the couch to down a piece of pizza. At least he''d gotten a vegetarian for her. If she didn''t eat, she''d be cranky, and considering the insanity, he liked to expose her to, cranky wasn''t the best way to start the afternoon.


    He grinned through a mouthful of meat-laden pizza. "See, I thought of you. Look at all those vegetables. Onions and bell peppers and even artichoke hearts! You can''t say I don''t pay attention to a ladies'' needs."


    She rolled her eyes and grunted a vague response. She''d lived with him for the better part of a month and still hadn''t adapted to his... his... she wasn''t sure how to define it. There was a definite feeling of a lack of personal space, but it wasn''t like he stood too close. It was more than lack of silence, the way he seemed to fill the place with his presence. He was so much more than he seemed, had a volume to him that she couldn''t shut out.


    She finished her pizza, wiped her hands on her pants, muttered a curse when she realized she''d just smeared grease on her favorite jeans, and grabbed one of the napkins from under the pizza box. Content that she''d gotten her hands clean enough, she went about dressing for the weather that was growing colder with each passing day. Jacket, scarf, boots, hat, and gloves. She beat Boris down to the lobby, bustling with activity, a fire blazing. She sighed and wrapped her scarf around her face and pulled her hat down over her ears.


    It was still light out, but cold enough to bite. She relished the open air as she inhaled and looked to the sky. The moon hung in the distance, it was waxing, just a sliver. She stared up at it with mixed feelings. She felt cursed, and yet, the moon had been her guide, a source of hope and fulfillment for so long, it was hard to see it as anything but that.


    "Ah, there you are," Boris'' voice broke into her thoughts and she turned to him.


    What she saw baffled her. It was indeed Boris who had spoken, she knew that voice anywhere, but the man dressed in trench coat and hat was somehow older, more world-weary than the boyish blonde she''d grown to know. Her confusion must have shown because he held his jacket open, modeling it for her. "What? Don''t like it?"


    She shook her head and then caught herself. "No, it''s fine, but..."


    His grin widened to Cheshire proportions and he put his hands to his face before making an ''Oh!'' expression. "You mean this?" he said, implying his subtly altered features. "Just a little talent I''ve picked up over the years. Or was born with. I forget."If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    She simply shook her head and thrust her hands in her pockets. "Well, where to?"


    "To meet some people," he replied vaguely and set off down the street, carrying a staff she''d not noticed before. Ellette scrambled after and fell into place beside him. He walked swiftly, but she could match him easily enough, stride for stride.


    "Alright, I have to ask. What''s with the get-up and staff?" she asked, unable to resist any longer. She''d been forced to accept the unexplained often enough with him. This was a little too bizarre not to question.


    "When we met, I showed you a form that you''d be most comfortable with. A young man, attractive yet not threatening. My acquaintances do not know me as such," he explained. He turned to her, though his features were distinctly different the grin was still familiar. "As for the staff, you''ll see."


    Soon they were at Leeson Avenue park, a familiar favorite of hers. She glanced around wistfully, remembering the long summer evenings spent beneath those trees with Rand.


    Before she''d realized it, they were in an area she wasn''t familiar with. It was a large park, but she knew it well. There were in the south end, or so it appeared, but the trees seemed wrong, the path curving in a direction she didn''t expect. Soon, they were in a clearing.


    No, not a clearing. A garden, a massive garden surrounded by a wild hedge which was a mix of blackberry brambles, and bushes. She paused, taking in the place. How, in all her wanderings had she never found this place? Boris shot her a glance back over his shoulder and hurried to catch up with him. She had the feeling the entire place would flicker out of existence if she wasn''t with him.


    He held up the staff, and a design at the top glowed to life. Only then did he proceed forward through the opening in the thicket. The air hit her like a wall; thick, warm, and smelling of earth. She instinctively pulled at her scarf, loosening it. It was so humid, she was scrambling to keep up with Boris as she worked out of her jacket, a trickle of sweat starting to form on her brow. Boris glanced back at her and pulled off his hat, grinning that obnoxious knowing grin. How was he not hot in his trenchcoat? She wondered.


    "Well, if it isn''t Louie! How nice of you to visit," called a woman from amongst the plants.


    Ellette shot Boris a questioning glance and mouthed, "Louie?"


    He shrugged and returned his attentions to the woman. "Ah, Fotla, I''d like you to meet Ellette. Ellette, this is Fotla."


    The woman, well built, colorfully dressed with thick dark dreadlocks beamed and approached Ellette. "Lana will do. Fotla was my mother, this crazy old bastard just can''t seem to keep things straight anymore." She reached out to Ellette, putting her hands on her shoulders, taking her in. "Look at you. So you are the dreamwalker all the whispers are about?"


    Ellette stood stiff under this woman''s scrutiny. While the compact woman with a tangle of dreadlocks gave off a motherly vibe, she, like Boris seemed to take up more space than their physical form. As if sensing Ellette''s discomfort, Lana stepped back and patted her on the arm. "


    "I suppose I am," Ellette muttered self-consciously. This realization that people seemed to know about her and what she could do was disconcerting.


    "I''m glad to have finally met you," Lana continued. "I hope Louie and I can help you. So sad to hear about your bard. He is such a sweet lad."


    Ellette took a step back, her heartbeat picking up in pace. She knew about Rand too? Were any of her secrets safe?


    Lana laughed and turned away, "It''s alright, girl. Only those of us who need to know. Come along. I want to show you my garden."


    Ellette glanced to Boris, or Louie, as he seemed to be called now. He grinned and shrugged. She sighed and followed Lana''s lead. A tour of the garden didn''t seem to be the most productive use of time, but she didn''t have a choice.


    As they walked, Ellette became aware of the fact that the garden was quite alive, and not just with plant life. There were chickens pecking and scratching around, sometimes right underfoot. She nearly kicked a black and white speckled hen before it squawked in annoyance at her and ambled off. A goat came galloping up to Lana, who laughed and kneeled to pet the creature.


    "This is a sanctuary within the city. My own urban homestead. I''ll let you in on a little secret. All those urban homesteaders, they got the idea from me. Now it''s so trendy to raise chickens in your backyard. I actually give seminars, it''s become so popular."


    Boris chuckled, "So modest."


    Lana laughed. "Well, it''s true! Too bad they can''t keep the cold out the way I can. Normal greenhouses don''t work nearly as well as the magic kind."


    "And that, my dear Lana, is why I brought Ellette to you. Can you teach her some of your abilities? To pass through realms as you have here?"


    Lana raised a brow and patted the goat on the head before rising. "I suppose we could try. She is mortal, despite her gifts. I don''t know how much will stick."


    "We have to start somewhere. Understanding how to slip between realms will help greatly."


    Lana nodded. "I''ll see what I can do."


    "That''s all I ask."


    Ellette visited Lana every chance she got once Boris had shown her the trick to finding the hidden garden. Labor was her payment for Lana''s time, and so she learned a great deal about chickens, milking goats, churning butter, and caring for a garden. Not only did she enjoy the fresh vegetables, eggs, milk, and butter Lana would send her home with, the physical labor of it helped to soothe her body and soul.


    The lessons from Lana consisted mostly of listening to a spattering of tales of magic and the Otherworld. While Ellette''s general understanding of the magical that allowed her to pass through dream and back into reality grew, the daunting task of rescuing Rand still weighed heavily upon her. The lack of progress with Lana''s tutoring was disheartening.


    Ellette anxiety was palpable. She''d come from visiting Rand. He was beginning to decline, they''d finally been forced to intubate him. It was painful to see the tubes forced down his throat. The feeding tube had been one thing, but this... she could barely stand it.


    "I think it''s time to put into practice some of what you''ve learned," Lana was saying. "It''s become fairly obvious that your powers will not work while you are conscious. So we need to set to training you to lucid dream."


    "Isn''t that what I do, lucid dream? I''m fully conscious when I step into the dreamworld," Ellette asked, fidgeting in her seat. She couldn''t concentrate, let alone relax. The idea of slipping into dream seemed nearly impossible.


    "Yes. You are aware while dreaming, yet it isn''t until you are in a dream that you become aware, correct? The moon guides you into the dreamrealm, decides where you are to go. What if you were able to decide on your destination and not lose yourself in the process of falling into dream?"


    "Easier said than done," Ellette sighed. "Don''t you think I''ve tried?" Every time she''d visited Rand, she''d reached out to him, focused on finding him. Holding his hand, she''d slipped into dream every opportunity she had. Yet she''d never been able to find him, to find the cabin again. She was sure he was there, trapped in that place of his youth.


    Lana put a consoling hand on her shoulder. "I will help. You can do this," she encouraged. "We''ve been working in visualization and meditation. Today we will put it into practice. I will help to push, guide the way. Soon, though, you will be able to do this on your own."


    Ellette nodded, her emotions raw and heavy in her throat. She didn''t dare speak, but she was hopeful. Lana had been nothing but kind to her. If she could show the way, Ellette was more than willing to follow.


    "I need you to lay down. We are going to work on sending you into dream, but with a clear vision of who you are and what your purpose"


    Ellette obeyed, settling onto the worn couch. It was comfortable and smelled faintly of earth and the musk of goats. After the calming hours spent in Lana''s presence, she couldn''t help but associate the scents with peace and comfort. She inhaled and closed her eyes, relaxing her body as best she could, just as Lana had taught her.


    "Now, listen to the sound of my voice. You are a champion of the moon, a paladin of the night. I need you to envision yourself as this champion. Feel yourself weighted with the armor of your duty. Beautiful plated armor, heavy and strong. It keeps you safe from harm, keeps you connected to your cause. Now, imagine yourself astride a great steed. This horse, this beast, will take you to the place you desire. It is your loyal servant, just as you are a servant to the Moon.


    If you guide this steed, he will take you through the mists of dream to your desired destination."


    Ellette listened, eyes closed, imagining such a thing. The thought of riding a horse, a great animal, felt strangely real. To imagine not just a motorcycle, her usual transportation of choice when she slipped into the dreamworld, but an animal, a companion, a guide, it lifted her spirit. The weight of armor, she could almost feel it upon her now, yet it was no heavier than her own heart, her own sense of duty.


    "Now," came Lana''s voice again, "Where do you wish to go?


    "To find Rand," she heard herself say, though the sound of her voice was a million miles away. She was no longer in that body. She was upon her steed, and he was taking her into a bright white light, into...

 1.2 Curse of the Dreamwalker

    She came awake all at once. No, she realized. She wasn''t awake. This was a dream, she was dreamwalking. It was a forest, light filtering through the trees. She''d never managed to dreamwalk before the moon''s glow was strong in the sky. Climbing to her feet, she glanced around, rubbing her arms. It was cold, the forest floor heavy with fallen leaves, lined with frost crunched beneath her feet.


    The forest was hauntingly familiar. She''d visited it twice before, though in a more pleasant season. The forest was decidedly unwelcoming in this state of impending frost and snow. She trudged ahead, thankful the snow had not yet fallen, and distorted the landscape further. It would be difficult enough to find her way to the path. She''d only traversed it twice before, both times with Rand''s guidance.


    Her heart ached at the thought of him. Would she really find him here? If so, how would she return him to his body? She took a deep breath, determined. If she didn''t stumble across the path, surely the lake wasn''t far off. Without the moon''s luminous glow to guide her, or Rand''s reassurance, she felt lost.


    Cutting through the thick underbrush, stumbling from time to time. Eventually, she came across a path, a narrow game path if anything, but it was something. She followed it, hoping it would lead to the lake. Surely the wildlife would need to go there to drink.


    The path wound through the trees, deeper and deeper. The lake, nowhere in sight, the forest silent all around her.


    A meadow, vast and icy in the chill winter air opened up before her. In the middle was a large rock and a man was perched there, flute in hand. As she stumbled forward, her heart beating wildly at the sight of him. He was dark, lean, and tall, his skin a deep olive hue, hair thick and worn long, a mass of dark locks framed strong features. She''d recognize those features, that build, the casual self-confidence with which he sat anywhere.


    Before she could speak, bring herself to call out to him, he brought the flute to his lips and began to play. It was hauntingly, beautiful, and familiar to her in an almost painful sort of way. It was the song he''d sing to her when she was upset, when she lost in the throes of painful flashbacks, locked in the prison of her own mind.


    She stood on trembling legs, disbelieving. Could he see her in this strange in-between world? Or was she simply a spectator to the place his soul had escaped to?


    "Rand?" she tried, her voice cracking with emotion. The playing continued on. She stumbled forward a few steps on trembling legs. She tried again. "Rand?"


    The playing faltered and he lowered the flute, staring at her. Her chest felt tight, and all she could manage was a smile, her eyes welling with tears. He could see her.


    He slid from the rock and gathered up the bag by his feet. "Do I know you?" he asked, approaching her.


    It was if the breath was knocked from her. She found herself gasping for air. "Rand," she whispered. Disbelief locked her in place, her thoughts sluggish. How could he not remember? It was then that she noticed his hands. They were no longer scarred and broken like the man she knew. Those hands were not just healed, but a young man''s hands, limber and able to play as she''d only heard Rand play twice before. He was somehow locked in the past, in the man he''d been before she''d known him.


    He stood so near now. It would only take a few steps to close the distance between them. She closed her eyes briefly, fighting back the urge to run to him.


    "You do look familiar. Are you staying in one of the other cabins?"


    She shook her head, fighting back the tears. "No, no. I''m only passing through," she replied. "I''m lost, though," she realized. "Perhaps you can show me the way to the lake?" She doubted she was ready to bring him back to his body, her abilities still too untried. But she''d found him, and that was enough.


    "Sure," he said, offering her his arm. "I know these woods like the back of my hand," he said with a boyish smile.


    She wiped at her face and smiled before slipping her hand in the crook of his arm. It was good to feel him, to walk next to him, alive and well. "Thank you, I was getting worried I wouldn''t ever find my way."


    "No problem, I''m glad I was here to help." He continued on, guiding her and filling the silence with small talk. "Its funny, I''ve been here for a few weeks now, and you''re the first person I''ve run into. It''s such a nice summer, you''d think there''d be someone in one of the neighboring cabins."


    She sighed, realizing he didn''t see the forest as she did, the trees bare of leaves, the sky overcast and cold as it slipped towards the dark days of winter.


    "I think Mother is lonely. She loves to host, and there''s been no one to invite." He turned to her. "Do you think you could stay for a while? It would cheer her up, I''m sure."


    She nodded, her voice caught in her throat. "I''d love to," she''d croaked out. "Though I don''t know how long I have..."This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    "Oh," he replied.


    She glanced away, he sounded hurt. So childlike and vulnerable in this strange state of his. "I just, I might have to leave soon," she tried. "I''m sorry."


    "Maybe you can come back, then, soon?"


    She smiled, the tears rising in her eyes. "Of course. As soon as I can."


    "Well, here we are," he said as they approached the cabin. She stared up at it and wondered what he saw. Was it covered in moss, long abandoned, and shuttered against the oncoming snow? He turned to her, tentatively. "Something wrong?"


    She shook her head and followed him up the steps. "No, no. It''s just a beautiful house."


    He beamed, "It''s Mother''s special place. She says it''s too big for us, but Father always insists on more than necessary," he explained, pulling open the door.


    She stared, wondering if she would even be able to enter. There was a lock there, heavy and unyielding, and yet, somehow he pulled it open with ease. She hesitated, and he motioned her in. "Come on."


    "No, no, Rand," called a voice from within. "I''ll come on out."


    Ellette sighed, and leaned against the porch railing, glad she wouldn''t have to test her theory and chance shattering his reality. He turned to her and shrugged. "I guess Mother saw us coming. Come, sit," he gestured to the table on the porch.


    A lovely woman in her fifties, joined them, carrying a pitcher and glasses. "Ellette," she said softly, "so nice of you to finally join us." Evelyn was as Ellette remembered, salt and pepper bob perfectly coifed, casually dressed in a floral smock and capris. It was perpetual summer for her as well.


    Rand laughed, "So you know Mother? I knew you looked familiar."


    Ellette only nodded, the sorrow in Evelyn''s eyes speaking volumes. Unlike her son, Evelyn was aware that they were nothing more than a pair of lost souls trapped in this sanctuary of their past.


    "You know, Rand, I seem to have forgotten the cookies," she said, her eyes never leaving Ellette. "Would you mind running in for them? They''re fresh out of the oven, just put a few on a plate..."


    Ellette watched him go, feeling the tears rise in her eyes once more. She could feel her time here was growing short. She would be waking soon.


    "You have to take him home," Evelyne said firmly, startling Ellette out of her reflection.


    "Don''t you think I''m trying?" she snapped back, "I would do anything..."


    "He''s losing himself here, Ellette! He''s forgotten so much."


    Ellette could feel the pressure building in her skull. She was fading already. "I''m sorry, Evelyn. I''m so sorry..."


    And then, she was back in her body, gasping for air, tears streaming down her cheeks. Lana was there, working the butter churn noisily. She paused realizing her pupil had finally come round.


    "Any luck?" she asked.


    Ellette sat up, wiping her face with her sleeve. "Yes," she croaked out. "I found him, but what now? How do I get him back?"


    "Opening gateways, slipping between realities, that''s my specialty," Lana explained, climbing to her feet. "Only you have the gift to separate the soul from the shell."


    "I need to know how to rejoin a soul to its body," Ellette begged, raw emotions bringing about a sense of urgency.


    Lana came to her side, "Ellette, inter-realm travel is all I know. What you ask is surely possible. But I am not the one to teach you."


    "Then who?" Ellette asked, still coming to terms with what she''d seen.


    "Only a dreamwalker. What you seek, what you desire had everything to do with the curse of the dreamwalker."


    "Curse of the dreamwalker? Where do I find another like me?"


    "Dreamwalkers are the rare few who can separate body from soul. It is both a gift and a curse. I know little else. Only Louie has the answers you seek. If anyone knows about dreamwalkers, Louie does."


    Ellette nodded and climbed wearily to her feet. The experience had been exhausting, but at least now, she had hope. She had found Rand''s soul, as lost as he''d been. She wiped at her face again. "I have to go," she muttered.


    "I know," replied Lana. "But do come back soon. Bessy will miss you if you don''t."


    Ellette laughed and glanced down at the little doe sprawled across the doorway of Lana''s cottage. "Silly goat," she said, scratching it behind the horns, just way she liked. The beast lifted her head up, blinked lazily at her, and went back to sleep. "Thank you, Lana," Ellette called out before making her way out of the cottage, through the magical garden, and onto the icy streets old town of Steinburg.


    The apartment was dark was empty when she arrived. She was thankful she knew the route home well, her mind elsewhere. She didn''t bother to flip on the lights, only drifted to the massive panoramic windows that lined the wall of the living room. Though she loved the view, it was hard to get used to living so high above the city. It was so abstract, just a twinkling of lights, silent and ominous. Instead of being able to see the individual people watch them living out their lives from a distance as she had at her old apartment, this view showed her the city as an entity, alive and pulsing, all as one.


    It reminded her of Rand, of the night he''d taken her out on the boat to stargaze in the mountains. She pressed her hand against the glass, annoyed by the barrier it presented. She wanted to feel the open air, see the lights unobscured by the glare or the fog of her breath on the glass. Before she''d even fully realized her intent, she was out the door of the apartment, climbing the stairs to the roof, key in hand. Boris had shown her the key, told her about the view, but she''d yet to take advantage. Now seemed like the perfect time.


    The door was heavy and she had to put her full weight into it before she stumbled out onto the roof. A gust of wind caused her to stumble and she righted herself stubbornly. The air was crisp, cold, and faint mist of low hanging clouds hung in the air. She made her way to the edge, staring at the breathtaking view before climbing onto a ledge to sit, pulled her legs to her chest, her head resting on her knees.


    She couldn''t help but imagine Rand out on the lake, right now, staring up at the night sky. Though the stars were few and far between with the heavy cloud cover, the twinkling lights of the city shimmered below her like an ocean of stars. Like the last night they''d spent together.


    "Lana tells me you found your wings."


    Ellette looked up, startled by the intrusion. "How''d you know I was up here?"


    Boris shrugged. "It''s my job to know things."


    Ellette forced a smile and straightened. "She told you what? Wings? I don''t know what you mean..."


    "You''ve found the way to slip through the Otherworld without the guidance of the moon."


    "I traded moon for the Lana. She helped me," she rubbed her arms, realizing how cold she''d become.


    "It''s a step in the right direction," he said simply. "Now come on down, before the pizza gets cold."


    She laughed, and wiped away the lingering moisture from her cheeks, and hurried after her him. "Pizza again?"