The Dream Catcher's Daughter (23 page)

Darlene’s eyes were wide, her hands up in
the air as Jason wrapped his arms around her. He buried his nose in the crook
of her neck. Slowly, Darlene returned his hug. They stayed like that for a few
moments. Silent, save for Jason’s hiccups.

When Jason pulled away, he looked Darlene
in the face. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

“I couldn’t tell.” But she smiled back,
patting Jason on the shoulder. “Good to see you, Jiggy. Just warn me next
time.”

“No promises.”

They shared a laugh. And it passed
all-too-quickly. “How did you get here?” said Jason, leading Darlene to his
bed. While she sat, he walked to his chair and pulled it over.

Darlene rubbed her forehead. Her eyes
searched the floor. Then they alit with remembrance, and one of her hands dove
into her pants pocket. She fished out her cell phone and showed it to Jason.
“You know how the Guardian programmed those spells into my phone? Well, your
father knew they were there. Your father told me to activate one of the spells.
Told me to think of your room. I asked why, but he told me just to hurry.” She
crossed her arms. “It’s like he knew something bad was going to happen...Wait,
that’s right! Something bad
was
happening!”

“Len told me.”

“Len? Oh god, is she all right?”

“She’s not dead. But the paladin’s will
change that if we don’t hurry.” He looked up at Darlene and explained what had
happened at the stronghold and in Visonia. He also told her about his visit
with Queen Gelen. “I need you to find the Guardian. He helped defeat Shemillah
before. He should be waiting for you at the same spot he talked to us.”

“How do you know that?”

Jason smirked. “Let’s just say, your
grandfather has a very morbid sense of humor.”

Though this comment only received utter
confusion from Darlene, she nodded, then snapped her finger. “Your dad also
told me to give you my phone. I’m not too happy about that part, but he said
the third spell was for you.”

“For me?”

Jason took the phone, and accessed
Darlene’s spell book app. There, he pulled up the third spell. It had no name,
and the only description available on it was...

He blinked, then reread the screen. He
showed it to Darlene, who also read the description.

“Hm...You’d have to get into the paladins’
stronghold. That’s where they’re holding Len, right? That’s where they’re going
to do the execution.”

It was. But something didn’t feel right to
Jason. Everything seemed too easy. Not exactly that, but he couldn’t quite
place it. Perhaps, planned out, as if everything had already been determined.
After all, how had his father known about Darlene’s spells? And the Guardian,
disguised as Sirin in the prison block…

“I’ll worry about sneaking in there,” he
said. “You find the Guardian. First I’m going to talk to the Dream Catcher. She
might know something about Shemillah’s weakness.”

“If she has any. She sounds like a badass.
In the bad way.”

He heaved a sigh through his nose. “That’s
why I’m trying to figure things out. We got one shot. And if it fails...”

Darlene smacked him upside the head.
“Don’t say that. We’ll be fine. Okay?”

Jason rubbed his head, then chuckled. “
Y’know
, if we survive, I think you should ask Len out.”

A wildfire spread across Darlene’s cheeks,
and she averted her doe-eyed gaze. She gulped, but smiled. “Y-yeah. I was
planning on it.”

***

Jason took as many side-streets and alleys
as possible just in case paladins were patrolling. South Hollow Ave was
deserted, as usual. Here he’d easily hear the paladins’ boots clang on
pavement. Even his own rubber-soled Nikes echoed in the air. Len’s house pulled
into sight, and Jason slowed his jog. At the driveway, he stopped.

She was sitting in one of the lawn chairs,
playing her flute. The music was soft, relaxing—a lullaby. The notes were
flawless, precise yet emotional. Jason waited there, at the foot of the drive,
for the Dream Catcher to finish her song. While she played, Jason clearly saw
how, despite the wrinkles and white hair, Len’s mistress could be in her
thirties. When the song finished, Jason barely realized it. He only moved when
his gaze met with hers, and she nodded his approach. He jogged toward her.

“Jason McKinney, welcome,” she said, her
voice raspy, but gentle. “Where is Len?”

Her first words to him, and those were it.
It almost struck Jason like a kick to the balls. But he straightened up and
took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Miss Dream Catcher, but Len’s...been captured.
She’s in jail. And it’s all my fault. She was only trying to help me, and now
she’s going to die if I don’t do something.”

The Dream Catcher pursed her lips, but
otherwise showed no emotion. “I understand. And forgive. My apprentice is doing
what she thinks is right. And that’s what a Dream Catcher ought to do. Taking
care of nightmares like Shemillah comes second to more important things. Like
helping friends.”

Jason opened his mouth, then closed it
again. Did the Dream Catcher just say Shemillah? As in, she knew? About the
Dream Caller? She caught Jason’s stare and grinned.

“Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I don’t
keep up-to-date. I've known about Shemillah for a while now. I helped your
mother years ago, when I was barely a full-fledged apprentice. Even then I knew
things wouldn’t pan out till much, much later. Everyone knew. Including your
mother. Your father. And even the Guardian. Even if they didn’t want to keep me
in the loop.”

Jason swallowed. It took a few tries for
the right words to come out. “How’d you find out?”

The Dream Catcher grinned. “Did you think
me a completely feeble old woman? I have my ways of finding out things. After
all, you can tell a lot about people in their sleep.”

“So, what? This is all part of a plan? Is
that what I’m hearing?”

She shrugged. “Perhaps. Still, even plans
laid like an insurmountable fortress have cracks. Like the night your mother
tried to kill you. The night she, in a blind craze, killed Len’s father.” Her
eyes drifted up to Jason. “I’m sure you remember by now. Even I didn’t know.
Not until a year ago, when Tanya talked to your father. Her spirit was able to
cross through into Caindom, but despite her powers being intact, her body was
weak. If Shemillah found her again, things would start all over. And now she
has.”

Jason crossed his arms. “Again? What do
you mean, again? I thought...Mom was Shemillah’s host, right?”

The Dream Catcher grunted. “Ah, that’s
where memory fails. I see. Well, I can fill you—”

A fit of hacking cut her off. Jason
stooped beside her, unsure what else to do, but she threw up a hand. He stood
back. “Will you be all right?”

She cleared her throat. “I have enough
strength left to put up one last fight. Maybe even two.”

She rose from her chair, and didn’t look
like a frail old woman. She reminded Jason of Len. To look so feeble, but to be
so strong. Jason wished he had that kind of strength, and he was physically
healthy. The Dream Catcher turned to him.

“Sit now, and I will tell you a story.”
Jason did sit, and the Dream Catcher pulled in a deep breath. “Long before you
were born, before your mother was born, before I was born, there was the
Guardian and Ole Lukoje, the King of Dreams. They were allies and friends
against Shemillah, who had been deeply infected by the original nightmare. The
ultimate nightmare.

“Lukoje and the Guardian had fought
together for centuries, hunting Shemillah as she and the nightmare hopped from
body to body, incarnation to incarnation, through her bloodline. Eventually,
they cornered her, and Lukoje was able to capture Shemillah and the nightmare in
a mighty sword he had constructed out of the purest dreams. This all happened
on the eve of your mother’s birth, when Shemillah had tried to jump into your
mother from her mother.”

“But something went wrong,” said Jason.

The Dream Catcher lifted a brow. And
nodded. “It did. But what?”

“Lukoje was badly wounded.”

“Yes, because Shemillah broke free. This
forced Lukoje to seal her away in his own head, where the nightmare had been
born. This didn’t last long, though, and Shemillah escaped from
Lukoje’s
head, mortally wounding him in the process. She
sought to claim your mother as a host, as she had originally intended, but time
in
Lukoje’s
head had weakened her. And in his last
moments, Lukoje managed to capture Shemillah and seal her away in a new prison,
here, in Caindom. He had one of his guard swallow that prison and then sealed
his guard within his dying soul. Then he vanished.”

The Catcher outstretched her hands, and
motioned to her house, yard, everything: “This was the site of Shemillah’s
prison. Here, a long time ago, used to sit the mansion constructed solely for
containing the nightmare and Shemillah. It was built by the Guardian, at
Lukoje’s
request. It was a back-up plan to a back-up plan.”

Jason dropped his gaze. He wrenched his
eyes shut. “My head hurts.”

“I imagine so. It’s probably been hurting
since you were born.” Jason looked up. Her face was smooth, save for the
wrinkles of age. He thought there should be anger on her face, rage of the
fieriest kind. “Also,” she continued, “I sense you’ve lost the key I gave you.”

“The shadow with red eyes—Shades took it.”
He shook his head. “I...I think it’s the nightmare of Tara.”

“The girl who committed suicide? By...”

“Yes. Yes, her. Forth.”

The Catcher raised a brow at this, but
quickly let it fall. A small smile flittered across her lips. She looked up to
the sky. The sun touched the horizon.

“Sometimes, when something is given to
you, it isn’t meant for you alone. It’s a thing you must seek out constantly.
For the sake of those you love. For yourself. Especially yourself.” She tilted
his head up with the tips of her fingers. And she looked into his eyes. “And,
certainly, you will find it. Just don’t lose sight of it. No matter what lies
the darkness may spew.”

The Catcher headed inside, bidding Jason
to follow. And he did.

***

His screams echoed through the basement.
He was sure that, if there were anyone, they would be able to hear him from the
street.

On the way down, the Dream Catcher had said
to Jason, “I sensed something strange earlier. Something large and mammoth.
Like a train.”

“Um. Yeah.”

“
It’s
okay,
Jason. Your mother told me about it. She never blamed you. The evil inside
Shemillah is great, and it infected your mother until that moment, when you
smashed her against the train. I don’t know how, but it did.”

“But I thought Lukoje sealed Shemillah
inside his soul?”

“That was after your mother was hit by the
train.”

She led him across the basement, across
the large chalk circle. She motioned for him to stop, and asked him to stand in
the middle of the circle.

“Some time ago, you failed to deliver a
precious jar of fairy bones to my door. They exploded in the sunlight, I
believe.” Jason nodded. “Did you manage to smell them?”

He crossed his arms. He hadn’t told his
father. Of course, he hadn’t told anyone. He didn’t think it was that big of a
deal. Now that he looked back, it was a
very
big deal. Come to think of
it, his father hadn’t said a peep about the bones after Jason delivered them.
Though the Catcher had never reported that they’d exploded.

Jason nodded. “I did.”

The Catcher scratched her chin. “Good. You
should be well on your way.”

“To what?”

“To more things. I can’t tell you. Not
until you figure them out.” She sat back on her bed, looking up at Jason. “But
you’ve a long way to go. Tell me, are your dreams still sealed?” Jason nodded.
Every time he fell asleep, he still heard the rhythmic words the Guardian put
in place nearly a year ago. The Dream Catcher frowned. “Well, I suppose the
train technically isn’t your dream.”

Before he could ask what she meant, the
Catcher stood and walked to the edge of the chalk circle. “We have to remove
that seal. It won’t be easy. The Guardian created the magic, and he didn’t give
away a lot of his secrets.” She smiled, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “But
I’ve always been a quick learner.”

Now, Jason writhed on the floor, clutching
his head. Smoke rolled off him and across the floor like a witch’s brew. The
Dream Catcher stood over him, clutching her flute with both hands. Her face was
white and sticky with sweat.

“I don’t get it,” she said. “The seal
won’t come loose.”

She put her lips to her flute, and played
a song of healing. Jason could feel the pain oozing out of his body, seeping
into the ground. When it was all gone, Jason rose to his knees, shaking out his
head. He wiped the sweat from his brow and looked up at the Catcher.

“Maybe you should rest. You don’t look so
hot. I mean, you look ill.”