Authors: Bryan Davis
Eternity's Edge (33 page)
Begone you stalkers of the night!
And flee the wrath that gives you flight.The white-haired soldiers scattered, some dropping their rods as they dashed into the mist. Nathan zoomed out the exit door, cut through the cloudbank, and burst into the open on the glassy walkway between rising columns of mist.
Puffing as he ran, he smiled. Even without the mirror in his grasp, Scarlet had again been his supplicant.
Well ahead, something came into sight, four human shapes, fuzzy in the vapor-rich air. One carried a load, obviously Cerulean with Abodah draped over his arms. Soon, Kelly's frame came into view, staring at a watch on her wrist.
“I'm late,” he said, breathing heavily as he came to a stop. “I'm sorry.”
She took his hand. “I'm just glad you made it.” A sad smile emerged as she added, “My beloved.”
He gazed at their hands. She held only the ends of his fingers, keeping her grip away from the worst part of his wounds. Now it seemed as if he could read
her
mind. The touch communicated more than a mere welcome; she was sad about Scarlet's death, too. The “beloved” comment wasn't a romantic overture at all; Kelly was telling him that she would be his supplicant if she were able. She would do whatever it took to save his life, even at the cost of her own.“Did you give him the mirror?” his mother asked.
He tried to smile, but the effort was just too much. “I gave it to him. I don't think he'll be bothering us anytime soon.”
The expressions on his mother's and Kelly's faces told him that they understood well enough.
Cerulean shifted Abodah higher. “What do we do with our friend?”
“Is she dead?” Nathan asked.
The blue-eyed supplicant nodded sadly. “A traitor to her people, yet a savior for worlds she has never seen.”
“I will take her,” a new voice said.
Nathan spun toward the sound. It came from behind the misty wall in the direction opposite the stalkers' chamber. A tall white-haired man strode out from the cloud — Patar, his face grimmer than usual. As he approached, he extended his arms, making a cradle. “I can see my brother's handiwork,” he said, his eyes fiery red. “Yet it seems that you have escaped his wrath.”
As Cerulean passed Abodah's body to Patar, a dozen conflicting thoughts rushed through Nathan's brain—anger, sadness, revenge, bitterness, sympathy— all pushing through to be spoken, but, although this was the same man who insisted that he kill Scarlet, he couldn't bear to say anything harsh. As the scent of roses again invigorated his mind, he nodded at Patar. “You have lost a mate. I have lost a beloved friend. I pray that their sacrifices will never be forgotten by the worlds they died to rescue.”
“Well spoken, son of Solomon.” A hint of wetness glinted in Patar's eyes. “You likely have little time to spare. Since the portal window is not set to a specific destination, you will need to be anointed. Then, you must go at once.”
Cerulean leaned over the edge of the walkway on the opposite side of the portal chasm and scooped mist into his cupped hands. He straightened and extended his arms toward Nathan. “This will mark you for travel to Earth Blue,” Cerulean said.
Nathan dipped his finger into the mist and dabbed his forehead with the wetness. When everyone had been anointed,
he grasped his mother's hand, then Kelly's, ignoring the pain. Turning back to Patar, he said, “Will I see you again?”“It depends. You have seen for yourself the results of my counsel. You know what I expect you to do.”
Nathan looked at the two remaining supplicants. Amber, every bit as lovely and mysterious as Scarlet, caught his gaze. She folded her hands in front of her waist and gave him a smile that could melt the coldest heart. Cerulean's sapphire eyes sparkled. Somehow they revealed his spirit— as deep as Sarah's Womb, as honest as Scarlet's songs, and as selfless as Abodah's life-giving sacrifice.
Turning back to Patar, Nathan gave him a nod. “Yeah. I know what you expect. But I'm going to do everything I can to find another way.”
“Then you will likely see me again, son of Solomon.” Without another word, Patar turned and walked away in the direction he had come.
As the tall stalker blended into the mist, a gentle pull turned Nathan toward his mother. She raised his hand to her lips. Then, with a gentle kiss, she bathed his knuckles with her warm, moist breath. “There is a new song in your heart, my son. I'm looking forward to seeing it lived out in our next journey.”
Holding a crippled violin and a bow with several hairs flying loose, she gazed at him, her raven locks a frizzy mop, her skin pale and smudged, and her eyes sparkling with love. She no longer looked like the greatest violinist in the world. For now, the virtuoso performer had left the stage, and his loving mother had joined him in the audience.
He shifted his gaze to Kelly. With blood staining most of the front of her sweatshirt, obscuring the fierce cardinal logo across her chest, she was the image of the ultimate sacrificial lamb, and at the same time, a lion with a ferocious bite. Yet she was even more than that. In the beauty of undying, unquestioned love, she was like Scarlet in so many ways. Even better.
Now trembling, he edged toward the precipice, still holding his mother's and Kelly's hands. “Let's go.”
The trio leaped into the void. As Nathan looked back, Cerulean and Amber followed. Darkness swallowed his vision, but soon a blue path formed, a ribbon of light that guided their fall. The light split into hundreds of colors and painted a familiar scene, his bedroom on Earth Blue, still strewn with mattress padding and pieces of the broken desk. His mother and Kelly materialized at his side, then Cerulean and Amber.
Cerulean's body carried a thin, blue aura, as though he were coated with phosphorescent paint. Amber's complexion, however, seemed normal for a fair-skinned blonde, though her hair and eyes glowed as if bathed in golden sunlight.
The matrix of mirrors still covered the wall, reflecting everyone in the room. Kelly shuffled toward it. Her injured shoulder drooped as she blinked at the images of three weary interdimensional travelers and two radiant supplicants. “What now?” she asked.
Nathan looked at Amber. “How do we get to the Earth Yellow dreamlands?”
The petite girl glided forward. Her smooth steps carried her body like a princess, though her simple garments labeled her a pauper. “First we must get to the people for whom I supplicate. Then we will have to locate a portal viewer there, one that belongs to the Earth Yellow realm.”
“A portal viewer?” Kelly repeated.
Amber touched one of the mirror squares on the wall. “The device you call a Quattro mirror. When we obtain it, I will tell you what we must do, but we will have to find the gifted one born on Earth Yellow. The one for whom I supplicate is accustomed to exploring dreams, so she is ready and able to help us.”
“Do you mean Francesca?” Nathan asked.
Amber glided back to him, smiling as she caressed his mother's
cheek. “Yes, my beloved Francesca, the Earth Yellow counterpart of this beautiful lady, is the gifted one.”Nathan smiled. “We spent quite a bit of time with her, Mom. I didn't know you had so much spunk when you were younger.”
“Spunk?” She laughed. “Maybe I've grown old too fast. I think I need to show my son a little more of my old self.” She delivered a mock punch to his cheek. “If it's spunk you want, it's spunk you'll get, especially since we might have to move heaven and two or three earths to find my husband.”
Nathan winked and pulled out Nathan Blue's cell phone. “We'd better get going.”
“Calling Daryl?” Kelly asked.
“If she's still there.” He read the display. The phone had service, but just barely. With Earth Blue in chaos, they were lucky to get anything, and with Earth Red getting set free from interfinity's grasp, who could tell if they'd ever be able to find a portal that led home? Maybe Daryl would know what had happened while they were gone.
He pushed a speed dial and waited. After two rings a stressed-out voice answered. “Nathan! Where have you been? Do you have any idea what's been going on here?”
“Uh … not really. But we managed to save the world.”
“Not this one, honey. It's snowing in the Congo, a hurricane struck Antarctica, and the Mississippi River is jammed with ice from Minneapolis to New Orleans. We might be getting Earth Yellow's weather, but we're getting it in all the wrong places. And Tony says Earth Yellow is in chaos, too. He —”
“Tell me later. Listen, are you still in touch with Earth Red?”
Daryl groaned. “That's another problem. We have radio telescope contact, but no visual. The frequency has been changing, but it was slow enough for Dr. Gordon and me to keep up with
it. Everything's peachy now on Earth Red, but I think we're drifting apart.”“Is it still possible to get home? Earth Yellow is our first stop, but we have to be sure we can make the jump when we get done.”
Daryl's voice crackled. The connection was fading. “Maybe, but we might need to click Dorothy's ruby slippers together to make it work. Dr. Gordon and I will experiment. We'll try to come up with something by the time you get here.”
“Well, you don't have to worry about Mictar for a while. Scarlet and I kicked his tail back in the misty world, so the local brain trust should have clear sailing. At least you can be glad of that.”
“Glad? Great! Just what I need, Pollyanna, high on testosterone. If you could beam up Mr. Spock instead, I'd appreciate it.”
Nathan grinned. “We don't need a Vulcan to solve the problem. If anyone can figure it out, you can.”
“Thanks, Captain Kirk. Don't forget your buddies back home.”
“You should hear from us soon. Everything happens so fast on Earth Yellow, maybe it'll only be a few minutes for you.”
Nathan slapped the phone closed and looked at his traveling companions. Light from the window shrouded all four in the failing glow of sunset. His mother sat on the mattress with Kelly, stretching back her sweatshirt and peeling away her blood-soaked bandage. The violin and bow lay near their feet, another casualty of their many skirmishes. Cerulean and Amber whispered to one another, their eyes shining brighter than ever before.
Kelly looked up at Nathan, smiling through her wincing face. With her hair in disarray, a gash still marking her brow, and blood splattered from her chin down to her hands, she was a mess … a beautiful mess.
Nathan's lips trembled, but he managed to return her smile.
As he stooped to pick up the violin, the scent of roses again washed over his senses. He leaned close to Kelly, close enough to hear her pain-filled, shallow breaths, and whisper-sang Scarlet's prophetic good-bye.
A day will come when love mature
Will take the hand of one made pure
In everlasting song and dance,
A knight, a lady, sweet romance.When he finished the song, he touched her bloodstained cheek, still whispering. “How long can your lonely heart wait?”
Kelly laid her hand over his, tears sparkling in her glazed eyes. “As long as it takes, Nathan Shepherd. As long as it takes.”
Read chapter 1 of
Nightmare's Edge
,
Book 3 in the
Echoes from the Edge series.1
WAKING UP THE DEADNathan ducked under a low-hanging branch and pushed a dangling python out of the way with his bandaged hand. The snake hissed, startling him for a moment. With its beady eyes and flicking tongue, it seemed so real, as did everything else in this dim jungle.
Yet, Cerulean, the blue-haired, blue-skinned, blue-every-thing young man who marched ahead on the narrow path, paid no attention. After all, if this place was a realm of dreams, even the forest was imaginary. Still, with the thick green foliage of overarching trees darkening their steps in deep shadows, and high humidity dampening Nathan's armpits, every detail painted a three-dimensional portrait that felt as real as it looked.
He pulled off his sweatshirt and tied the sleeves around his waist, looking from side to side. With just a slender candle in Cerulean's grip lighting their way, how could two awake people know how to find another one of their kind in this dark land, especially since the images conjured by frightened sleepers seemed as real as their own skin and clothing?
Nathan wiped his brow and hurried to catch up with Cerulean, Earth Blue's supplicant from the misty world. Keeping his eyes focused straight ahead and the white candle out in front, Cerulean stayed quiet. Nothing seemed to faze him. Earlier, he had ignored the twelve talking chipmunks dressed in purple tuxedos. Nathan thought they had been funny at first, chattering about their political ambitions and the proper way to shave an elephant, but when a six-foot-tall electric razor buzzed into the forest, Nathan dove out of the way. The razor flew past, chasing a three-headed elephant into the forest. Cerulean merely helped him back to his feet and pressed on.
“So,” Nathan said as they marched past an old man wrapped in golden chains floundering in a quicksand bog, “this dream world really isn't all that dangerous once you get used to it. Why did you insist on just the two of us going? What's the risk?”
Cerulean didn't even blink. “Not everything is a dream. Jack is here somewhere, is he not?”
“True. But what other real things could enter this world? No one else knows how to get here in real life. Even you had to get Kelly to go to sleep to create a portal.”
“When there are no wounds in the cosmic fabric, the dream world can be penetrated only by a supplicant or through a person's sleeping mind. With interfinity at hand, however, and many holes throughout the cross-dimensional plane, I suspect that passages abound.”
“How can you tell the difference?” Nathan asked. “I mean, if that poor guy in the quicksand was real, shouldn't we try to rescue him?”
Cerulean smiled, finally breaking his stoic countenance. “As the elephant has taught you, dreams are as real as you allow them to be. Once you train your mind, you will see through them. The imagined elements in the dreamscape are transparent, and whatever is left is reality.” He nodded at the path. “Come. Kelly's dream has now formed in her mind. Since she
sleeps at the edge of a cosmic wound, that will be the best place to look for Jack.”Nathan followed Cerulean's lively pace. “Whose dream are we in now?” Nathan asked.
“A mixture of several.” As Cerulean passed by a leafy vine that hung from a branch, he gave it a shove, making it swing. “This jungle is a dream setting for all souls who feel lost. They struggle through vines, snakes, quicksand, and many other obstacles of their own making, thus illustrating their lives of desperation. I thought perhaps it would make sense to search here while we waited for Kelly to dream. Even though he is blind, Jack might have found his way here.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Nathan said, “at least as dreams go.”
While following a meandering path for several minutes, they entered a suburban neighborhood, shaded by thundering storm clouds overhead. Now walking on rubberized streets, they passed a headless woman on a bicycle who was trying to find a place to insert her iPod earbuds. In front of a mansion-like house on a perfectly manicured lawn, a man in a clown costume juggled a woman, three children, and a briefcase. As if on a treadmill, he ran in place, huffing and puffing, but getting nowhere.
Nathan stared at them, knowing they couldn't possibly be real. When they faded into ghostlike images, he shuddered. This was just too weird.
With each change of scenery, they passed through a soft membrane, a dry, gelatin-like substance, about ten feet thick, that sent a buzzing sensation across Nathan's skin. The transparent wall raised a tickle for a few moments, but it seemed harmless. During each passage, a precipice appeared on his left, and a vague pull forced him to lean to the right to keep from walking over the side and into a dark void. It obviously marked a boundary of some kind. Could it be the wall between different dreams? Alternate realities that a dreamer could visit?
After a brief walk through a desert, they penetrated a membrane for the third time. He slowed his pace for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust. It seemed that ribbons of light swirled into the void from every direction, as if it were a drain. The pull seemed harder than ever, but not unbearable. Yet, Cerulean seemed oblivious to it. A strange sound emanated from the depths, like a song — a soft, familiar song. Nathan craned his neck, listening. Could it be? Yes, it sounded like someone humming “Be Thou My Vision.”
“What's that dark place?” he asked.
Cerulean paused and looked that way. “The void. This world of visions surrounds it. Every dream eventually crumbles and is pulled in there.”
“Why is it pulling me? I'm not part of a dream.”
Cerulean jerked his head toward Nathan. “The void affects you?”
Nathan gave him a half nod, unsure if he should be admitting it. “Is that bad?”
“I am not sure.” Cerulean stared for a long moment, then marched on.
Nathan followed. Should he ask about the humming? Cerulean seemed to be worried about something, and in a hurry. It would be better not to slow him down.
Soon, they entered the darkest place yet, a cemetery with old tombstones rising at odd angles from grave plots. Bones littered the weed-infested grounds. Gnarled oak trees with hanging moss painted twisted shadows on the winding path that coursed through the abandoned yard. A large raven perched atop one of the burial markers, staring at Nathan as he passed by.
“Inscription,” it croaked. “Read. Read.”
Nathan paused and leaned closer. “You mean on the tombstone?”
“Yes! Read! Read!”
Cerulean grabbed his arm. “No. It is not wise to heed the words of the dream creatures.”
“But if they're not real, what could it hurt?”
His bright blues eyes sparkling in the candle's glow, Cerulean inhaled deeply. “A vision stalker is close. I fear that he has manipulated the environment, and our safety may very well be compromised.”
“Just reading the tombstone won't hurt.” Nathan took the candle and shuffled to the side of the grave. With the raven still leering at him, he held the flame close to the stone. The inscription, spelled out in deeply etched block letters, read, “Here lies Kelly Clark, murdered in her sleep by Nathan Shepherd. Even now she is unable to rest in peace as her killer shines a light over her bed.”
“What?” Nathan slid back. “How could a tombstone know I'm here?”
Cerulean stared at the raven. “Three possibilities. Kelly sees us in her dream, so she created the inscription even as you drew close. Yet, I think that is unlikely since she doesn't see you as a threat to her life. Still, stranger things do happen in dreams. Second, a stalker could have manipulated this place, and he is trying to intimidate you to keep you from proceeding. Third, and perhaps the most dangerous of all, is the possibility that you are becoming part of the dreamscape.”
“How is that possible?”
“Amber spoke of this when she heard about Jack's entry. If Patar sent Jack here to keep him alive, then he likely expected the poor man to become part of the dream world, a living phantom who wanders in people's nightmares. He would be alive, yes, but only Patar would know how to extract him without killing him.”
Nathan pointed at himself. “Then can I leave safely? I mean, I'm not becoming part of this place yet, am I?”
Fixing his gaze on Nathan, Cerulean shook his head. “You
appear solid, so one of the other two options is more likely. I suspect that a vision stalker is present.”Nathan peered behind the tombstone, but nothing was there. “Who? Mictar?”
“He would be powerful enough.” Cerulean took a quick step and grabbed the raven by the throat. It choked out a squawk and flailed its wings under the supplicant's grip, vainly trying to claw his arm. “Where is your master?”
“New inscription,” it croaked again. “Read!”
Cerulean shook its body. “You have a voice. Tell me who sent you.”
“Read! Read!” The raven broke free and in a scattering of feathers flew into the darkness above.
As a black pinion floated to the ground, Cerulean took the candle back from Nathan. “Come. We must hurry. The longer we stay here, the greater the danger.”
“Shouldn't we read the inscription again?”
Cerulean held the flame high and wrapped a hand around Nathan's arm. “It is of no consequence. If the message has been written by the stalker, it is likely a lie. If it is a product of Kelly's nightmarish fears, it will only work to heighten your own. And if you are becoming part of this world, deep emotions will only hasten the process.”
“Not knowing will drive me crazy.” Nathan squinted at the tombstone, but it was too dark to read. “Taking a second won't hurt.”
Cerulean held fast. “The risk is too high. Your uncharacteristic insistence demonstrates that the effect this place is having on you is escalating rapidly. You are losing your ability to reason.”
“But I have to know.” As Nathan pulled against Cerulean's grip, the supplicant's blue hair grew fuzzy, looking like reeds waving under restless waters. “Let me go.”
“Nathan!”
The shout sounded like a thunderclap. Nathan spun toward it. Ahead on the path, a man stood with his fists set against his hips. Tall and lean, he appeared to be dangling a plastic bag from his fingers.
Nathan blinked. “Is it Mictar?”
“No,” Cerulean said, loosening his grip. “It is Patar.”
Patar walked three steps closer and halted. Now about five paces away, his face bent into a deep scowl. “You should not have come here. It is far too dangerous.”
Nathan glanced between Patar and the tombstone. He pointed at the inscription. “I have to know what is says. Kelly might be communicating with me.”
“As you can see, Cerulean …” Patar's voice grew distant, warped, as if he were speaking from the midst of a cave. “He is already being absorbed.” The stalker's slender form now seemed foggy, distorted, more like a dream than reality.
Cerulean nodded. “I can see that now. He is showing signs of fading.”
“I'm fading?” Nathan pointed at Cerulean, then at Patar. “You two are the ghostly looking ones.”
“It's only going to get worse,” Patar said. “His mental defenses are withering, and Kelly's nightmare is reaching a climax.”
A sudden gust of wind blew away a blanket of clouds. A full moon, at least five times its usual size, hovered in a purple sky. Its glow illuminated the cemetery, allowing a clearer view of the dozens of tombstones.
“Shall I take him out immediately,” Cerulean asked, “or should I find Jack first?”
A low rumble sounded at Nathan's side. At the gravesite where the raven once perched, a hand pushed out of the earth, then a second hand and a head. Finally, an entire body, short and feminine, climbed up and shook dirt from her shoulder-length hair. She looked straight ahead and called, “Nathan? Are you here?”
“Kelly?” Nathan stared at her. “It really
is
you!”Wearing a knee-length nightshirt, she brushed off the soil, revealing letters on the front, Sanity Is Overrated. Then, extending her arms, she staggered toward him, feeling for obstacles in her way. “Nathan? Where are you? I hear your voice.”
As she drew closer, he stiffened. Kelly had no eyes, only vacant sockets. Could she be the Earth Blue Kelly, somehow resurrected? Or was she Kelly Red, a recent victim of Mictar's cruel electrified hand? Yet, wasn't she just part of a dream? She looked real enough.
Kelly stopped and touched Nathan's cheeks with her cold fingers. “There you are. Why didn't you answer me?” She shivered and rubbed her arms. “I'm cold and scared. Will you get me out of this dark place? I can't see a thing.”
Nathan reached for her hand but then jerked back. “You're just a mirage. I can't take you anywhere.”
“You are correct.” Cerulean lifted his candle higher. “Stay in the light, Nathan. Do not be deceived.”
“This is no time for joking around,” Kelly said. Bouncing on the toes of her sock-covered feet, she shook harder. “You can't leave me in this horrible place. It's so cold, so terribly cold. Please take me home.” She reached out and groped for him. With missing eyes and dirty face, she seemed like a pitiful waif as her voice broke into a lament. “Nathan … please … I'm scared.”
