The Nightmare Dilemma (Arkwell Academy) Page 8

  But at least Eli wasn’t the only person present. Three other people stood around the table, two men and a woman, all of them wearing long robes of light blue. One of the men held a clipboard, the other a stethoscope. The woman held a wand that she was waving back and forth over Eli.

  The clipboard and stethoscope gave me pause, and I turned in a circle, taking a closer look at my surroundings. This place wasn’t a torture chamber. It was a science lab. The marbled walls had thrown me off, but the instruments on the shelves were the kind we used every day in my alchemy class—glass beakers and vials, jars of herbs and magical ingredients, even microscopes.

  Feeling a little calmer, I approached the table, sidestepping around the trio of scientists. “Hey, Eli. Wake up.”

  His eyes fluttered opened, and he stared up at me, confused at first. Then he smiled and sat up, giving me a nice shot of his muscle-covered backside. He swung his legs over the side of the table and peered around.

  “Wow,” he said. “I can’t believe I’m dreaming about this place. Thought I’d had enough of it.”

  I took a step back, making sure we kept a safe distance between us. “Is this where they did all those experiments on you today?”

  “Uh-huh.” He jumped off the table and pushed his way through the scientists who remained oblivious to his presence. He examined the room. “Well, more or less.”

  I didn’t bother asking him what the differences were. Now that I knew the place, it didn’t hold much interest.

  I clapped my hands. “Are you ready?”

  “Yep. Take us to the scene of the crime.”

  Ignoring the cheese factor in his words, I closed my eyes and concentrated on the library tunnel alcove. I drew on my memories of both the actual place and the way I’d seen it in Britney’s dreams. For a while, nothing seemed to happen. I could still hear the scientists murmuring behind me. I focused harder, willing my imagination to set the scene.

  Finally, I felt the dream world respond, and I opened my eyes to see a gray mist swirling around Eli and me. Then without warning, the mist vanished and the world snapped into place. It happened so hard, I staggered forward, just managing to catch my balance. I straightened and looked around. With a horrible swooping sensation, I realized we hadn’t arrived in the tunnels.

  We were in my dream. My nightmare.

  I stood on the top of that tall tower again, the black blanket of sky overhead seeming near enough to touch. A ferocious wind buffeted my body, forcing me back and away from the stone plinth set at the tower’s center. The moment my eyes saw the plinth all reason fled my mind as the need to read those letters took hold of me. I lurched forward, throwing my weight and the force of my will against the wind. It screamed in answer, blowing harder, determined to stop me.

  I dropped to my knees and began to inch my way forward. Somewhere, as if from far away, I heard Eli shouting. “Dusty! What are you doing? Where are we?”

  I glanced up long enough to see that he wasn’t far away at all, but standing over me, completely unaffected by the wind or those hidden letters on the plinth’s surface.

  I tried to respond but couldn’t. Speaking would require too much effort, effort I needed to reach the plinth.

  With agonizing slowness, I made my way to it. Eli’s voice and all his meaningless questions and concerns were nothing but a dull hum in my ears, a noise barely distinguishable from the wailing of the wind.

  “Seriously, Dusty, you’re scaring me. What’s going on? Why aren’t you changing the dream?”

  I stretched my hands toward the plinth, my eyes fixed on the faint imprint of letters. I ran my forefinger over them, again trying to read it like Braille. I could almost make out the first one.

  “Come on, Dusty, talk to me. Talk to me or I’m going to kick you out of this dream, I swear it.”

  His warning registered in my brain. I couldn’t let him evict me. Not until I saw the letters.

  “Got to read this,” I said, panting.

  “Read what?” Eli squatted down beside me. I recoiled from him, afraid we would touch by accident.

  “The letters.” I clawed at the plinth, my nails quickly wearing down to nubs. I pressed on, frantic now, uncaring of the blood streaks I left on the stone as I scraped away the flesh on my fingertips.

  “Stop it, Dusty. Stop it right now.” Eli stood up, looming over me.

  “Don’t touch me,” I hissed, and on some distant plane I heard the insanity in my voice. It frightened me somewhere deep down, but not enough to break through the plinth’s spell.

  “If you don’t stop I’m going to touch you.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Eli clenching his hands into fists. “Dammit, Dusty, what’s wrong with you?”

  I shook my head, using my palms now. I could almost see it. A straight edge and a curved top, a P and yet that didn’t feel right. It could be a B or an R. P or B or R or P or B or R. Which one? Eli stooped toward me again, and I sensed his hands reaching for my frantically clawing arms.

  “Don’t!” I screamed.

  Boom.

  Something struck the tower, and it gave a violent lurch as if from an earthquake.

  Eli stumbled backward while I fell forward into the plinth, my forehead smacking stone. Dazed, I pushed myself back into a kneeling position as the tower gave another shudder.

  “What the hell?” Eli turned and ran to the tower’s edge, looking out at the night sky surrounding us.

  Only as I struggled to my feet, I realized the sky wasn’t dark as it had been when we arrived, but was suddenly bright, as if lit by an unseen sun. The unnatural sight of that brightness broke the plinth’s hold on me at last. With my limbs trembling as hard as the tower, I hurried to the edge, wanting to see what was happening.

  I looked down at a sparse forest, populated by giant, ancient trees, some of them nearly as tall as the tower. At once, I found the source of all the shaking as a giant fireball shot up from the ground and struck one of the trees. It exploded on impact. Fire and debris spewed outward.

  Boom-boom-boom.

  The explosions were everywhere now, closing in around us.

  Another fireball struck the tower, this one from far below, at its core. It rumbled upward, almost slowly. The ground shot up beneath my feet like a sinkhole in reverse. I pitched forward and slammed into the wall. The fissure spread and widened. The wall broke, huge chunks of stone falling over the edge. For a second I struggled to catch my balance, but then I lost it completely, helpless to stop my forward propulsion. Helpless to do anything as I plunged over the side.

  The rush of wind ripped the scream from my throat. My body was beyond my control, my limbs locked in place by the momentum of the fall. Even still I twisted and turned through the air like a performance skydiver. I tried to pull back from the dream, but I was too afraid to concentrate. Far above me I saw Eli leap off the edge of the tower. He dove toward me, arms stretched forward. No fear showed in his face, only determination.

  Several long, terrifying seconds later, his body struck mine with the force of a meteor. The dream world exploded around us. Pain tore through me, my entire existence seeming to shatter.

  The next moment we were back in Eli’s dorm. I tumbled sideways off the sofa. My head cracked against the stone floor, Lance’s designer rug doing little to soften the impact. Starbursts covered my vision, and a sick feeling expanded in my stomach. I lay there, motionless, but I could still feel myself falling through the air, plummeting to my death from that tall, crumbling tower.

  I kept my eyes open, afraid to shut them as I willed away the pain and terror. I’d never been afraid of heights before, but I had a feeling that might change after this.

  Eli’s face filled my vision as he leaned over me. “Are you all right?” He reached for my arms.

  I tried to nod, but the motion made my head pound even harder. Eli took hold of my wrists and pulled me upward. I let him, but only because I thought I would get sick if I opened my mouth to speak. When I was in a sitting position, he
let go of my wrists. At once I began to fall backward, my equilibrium still screwed. He grabbed me, cursing beneath his breath as he dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around my shoulders.

  I sagged into him, vaguely aware of the tears wetting my face.

  “Shhhh.” He stroked my hair. “It’s okay. It was just a dream.”

  But we both knew that wasn’t true. His dreams weren’t normal dreams. Not the ones we shared together. If I had fallen all the way, if I had struck the ground …

  I shuddered, my body convulsing with another surge of terror. He held me tighter.

  Slowly the fear began to pass, and I forced my sluggish brain to start working again. How had we ended up in my dream? How could it be so powerful to make me lose control like that? I tried to remember all the things I knew about dream-walking. Some Nightmares were powerful enough to infiltrate dreams from afar. Was it possible someone was interfering with both my dreams and Eli’s? I couldn’t imagine what else besides magic could affect me like that. My compulsion to read those letters went far beyond the level of normal dreaming. Even now my head buzzed with the desire.

  I heard Eli draw a breath, and I braced for the inevitable questions, but none came. He seemed to understand that I wasn’t ready to talk. He just held me instead, his arms a strong, comforting force around me, his hand gentle as he stroked my hair.

  I don’t know how it happened, but sometime later, my body shifted toward his, and I felt his warm breath on my face, a slow in and out. Inch by inch, I turned my face toward that warmth. His lips grazed my cheek. And then he was kissing me, his mouth full on mine, hot, wet, and demanding, as if he’d longed for it as much as I had. His hands slid up my neck beneath my hair until he cupped the back of my head between his palms, locking me in place. Tingles coursed through my body, explosions of pleasure erupting over my skin.

  It ended much faster than it began. One second he was kneeling on the floor, kissing me, the next he stood and backed away, leaving me suddenly cold and struggling to hold myself up.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  I blinked once, twice, my head swimming with sensation and emotional overload. He was sorry? What for? He was acting like there was something wrong with kissing me. Or maybe the kiss had been bad.

  I stopped that train of thought before it could continue any further down the tracks. I was already straddling the crazy line as it was. The last thing I needed was that kind of self-doubt. I’d kissed boys before him, and no one had ever complained.

  But none of them were Eli.

  Shut up.

  I started to push myself up, nearly slipped, but then felt Eli’s hand on my arm, steadying me.

  “Are you okay?” he said.

  I pulled away from him, refusing to look in his eyes, afraid of what I might find there. I turned and sat down on the sofa, dropping my head into my hands. Now that the thrill of the kiss was gone, the pounding had returned full force, made even worse by my embarrassment.

  “Why are you sorry?”

  Eli shook his head. “It was wrong. I shouldn’t have done it. You’re hurt … and…”

  “Oh, okay,” I said, still embarrassed and wanting the subject over.

  He sat down beside me, keeping a careful distance between us. “So what happened?”

  “I … I don’t know.” I ran both hands through my hair, relishing the pain in my skull as my fingers caught on snags. “But that place with the tower and the plinth … I’ve seen it before.”

  “Where?”

  I turned my head toward him, risking a glance. But he didn’t seem embarrassed or flustered at all. The kiss might never have happened. His expression registered only concern and interest.

  “In my dreams,” I said. “Last night and a couple of times before, I think.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Huh.” He leaned back against the sofa, his hands falling into his lap. “That’s pretty crazy.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it.” I crossed my arms and leaned back, too, hating the distance between us and yet wishing it was bigger. I wanted to be worried only about the dream, but that kiss and his reaction to it kept trying to press its way to the forefront of my mind. Was he really sorry simply because I was hurt and he thought it bad timing?

  “Have you told Lady Elaine about the dreams?” Eli said.

  “No, of course not.” An odd possessive feeling came over me at the idea, one I didn’t understand but couldn’t deny. They were my dreams and nobody’s business but my own. The word on that plinth was meant for me; I could sense it. A tinge of resentment went through me at the knowledge that Eli had seen it. I wished I could take it back. Never mind that he was forced to share his dreams with me time and time again. That dream was different. I knew it, and I could tell by Eli’s tense silence that he knew it, too.

  “Well,” he said, stretching out his hand to pat my knee, “we’ll have better luck next time.”

  “Sure.” I tried not to tense at his touch. It was hard. My lips still felt wet and swollen from our kiss. Sorry, he had said. Sorry.

  So was I.

  10

  Mind Games

  Paul Kirkwood returned to Arkwell the very next day. I spotted him walking down the cafeteria hallway before breakfast. At first I didn’t recognize the tall boy with the short-cropped blond hair and lean, serious face. Then it struck me, and I pictured a ponytail and flyaway hairs on the boy’s head. Of course they would’ve shaved his head in jail. In some matters, magickind liked to emulate the ways of the ordinary world.

  I stumbled to a halt, limbs numb. Paul’s eyes locked on mine, and my heart seemed to plunge into my stomach. For a second, I hoped he didn’t recognize me. We were still so far away; I must look different, too. But recognition lit his expression. He didn’t smile or wave. He froze in place as if seeing me was as much a shock to him as it was to me.

  I ripped my gaze away from him, spun on my heel, and darted into the girl’s restroom. My heart had clambered up my throat now, my pulse a flurry of beating wings beneath my breastbone. I wasn’t ready for this. I didn’t think I would ever be ready.

  I turned to the nearest sink, twisted on the cold water, and splashed my face. At least I didn’t have to worry about smearing my makeup. I wasn’t wearing any. It had been well past midnight by the time I returned to my dorm, and I’d barely slept afterward. When I woke this morning, I was too tired for mascara.

  I looked down at my outfit, a hastily donned long-sleeved T-shirt of a colorless gray and a pair of loose-fitting jeans over sneakers. I couldn’t face Paul looking like this. Why hadn’t anyone warned me he would be here? A girl needed the right clothes, let alone makeup, to face her murderous apprentice ex-boyfriend with any kind of confidence.

  For a second, I thought I might be sick, but then the door opened behind me, and Selene’s voice said, “Dusty?”

  I faced her, feeling considerably calmer in her presence.

  She frowned at the sight of me, her lower lip sticking out in something close to a pout. “You’re not seriously going to let him affect you like that, are you?”

  I swallowed guiltily and then felt a flicker of anger. Both at her for pointing out my weakness and at me for letting it happen. She was right. The more I allowed him to bother me, the more he won. I refused to let him.

  Tugging down the end of my shirt, I stood up straight, raising my head high. “No, I’m not.”

  Selene bared her perfect teeth in a smile. “Well, good. Because Eli and Paul are about to get in a fight. Which might not be too helpful in your get-him-to-trust-you quest.”

  “What?”

  I stormed past her, the sound of raised voices beyond the door registering in my ears. I had to push my way through a wall of bodies as I exited the restroom. It seemed every student in my year and probably several others had gathered in the hallway to witness the fight.

  Only Eli and Paul weren’t fighting. Not yet. As I broke through the crowd, I saw them circling each ot
her like a pair of teenaged lions. Eli had stripped down to a T-shirt, and the muscles in his forearms bulged in and out as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

  Across from him, Paul held his ground, his hands fisted, too, but his expression less intense than Eli’s. He looked resigned to the fight, rather than hungry for it.

  Eli was hungry though, his face livid, eyes narrowed to pinpricks. But I knew he wouldn’t strike first. It went against his code.

  But from the look of it, he would be waiting a long time. That was unless magic became a factor. Worried, I searched Paul up and down for a wand or staff. He wore a thick silver band on his left hand, and I guessed that was it, hidden by a glamour. I couldn’t believe the Magi Senate would deny him his computers but allow him access to magic.

  I looked around, wondering where the Will Guard was, but I couldn’t see beyond the crowd.

  “I don’t want any trouble with you.” The sound of Paul’s voice went through me like a lightning strike, setting my nerve endings afire. I knew it so well. The memory of the way he’d sounded that last time, when he used his siren powers to try and force me to serve Marrow, haunted me.

  I shut my eyes and counted to three, forcing those memories away. Then I opened them again, trying to figure out what to do next.

  “I don’t care what you want.” Eli stepped forward and Paul retreated. He kept his head down, almost in submission, but I caught the hard glint in his eyes. He was doing everything he could to keep his temper in check.

  “You’re a liar and a backstabber and a killer,” Eli went on. “You killed Rosemary Vanholt. You tried to kill Dusty and Selene and me.”

  Paul’s head shot up, the wary weakness of a moment before gone. “I didn’t kill Rosemary.”