Continuum (37 page)

I peel myself off the wall and perch myself on the edge of the white couch, facing the wall instead of facing my father directly.  “I know this isn't really happening.  Well at least not in the real world.  Where are we?  Am I in your dream or are you in mine?” 

“We are in my dream.  We are conscious of what is happening right now because our gifts lie in the dream world.”

I look around the room, it is a perfect replication of my living room, not a throw pillow out of place.  I scrunch my forehead, “Am I doing this or you?”

“Our mental abilities all develop differently and in different stages.  How it manifests depends on a lot of different circumstances.  It is part nature, part nurture.  When you hit puberty, you gained clairvoyance.  I speculate that your
weifarering
manifested because of your separation from Ethan.”

“What is
weifarering
?”

“
Weifareres
are the ones who walk through dreams.  You are able to travel to the dreams of others.  It is a rare gift to possess.” 

I have so many questions, I don’t know which to ask first.  I choose the easiest one, “How did you bring us here from the forest?  I thought our... abilities were similar.”  I can’t get myself to use the word
gift
.

“That is one of the gifts we share.  Dreaming about the future is something that happened naturally.  But like you, I have extra abilities that developed later.”  Izic closes his eyes and when he opens them a moment later, they are a deep golden color.  “I am a
conduktr
.  Where as you are part of the dream, I am more like the narrator--able to manipulate elements in the dream or to change the course of the dream as I see fit.”

I stare at Izic's eyes, trying to see the green beneath the illusion.  “How does that work?”

“Our gifts are all so different and some so rare, not much is known about them.  The way they work is not an exact science.  I have only known one other
weifarere
--my father, your grandfather.  If your gift works similarly, proximity will not an issue, but you do have to be familiar with the dreamer.”

This is the most honest and straightforward Izic has ever been with me. “Why is Epir keeping me here?  Why doesn’t he just kill me?”

“Epir is a coward at heart.  He fears the unknown.  He fears what I am capable of and what I will do to him.  He fears that you have gifts that could be useful against me.”

“Does he know you’re a
conduktr
?”  I’m curious and afraid to know how my father could scare a psychopath like Epir.

“Yes, he has known me most of my life. 
Conduktrs
are feared because they can build you up and tear you down.  I can build the most beautiful, happy dream state, making all your deepest desires a reality and then rip them away from you.  Or I can simply haunt your dreams.  I can make you dream of your deepest afflictions, tormenting you with what cannot be.”

“How did you know where to find me?”

“You found me.  I summoned for you when I went to sleep.  I knew of your newfound ability since Zefa sent message to me yesterday that you had come to him when he was unconscious from the psionic blast.  He also told me that had dreamt of Ethan and could recall the dream with fine detail.  Forgive me, I should have told you sooner.  They are both safe and by my side in Phynx.”

My body sags with relief at Izic's news.  “Is Zefa going to be okay?  Fyro hurt him pretty badly.  Did anything happen to Ethan?”

“Zefa will recover and Ethan was unharmed during the attack.  But I will require your help to ensure their continued safety.”

“I’ll do anything,” I reply immediately.

Izic leans back in his chair and rubbing his chin with his thumb and forefinger, contemplating his next words.  “This is going to be a task unlike any you have undertaken.  You will be placing yourself in great danger.”

I make an exasperated noise, my father could be so frustrating.  “Enough with the wordplay, Izic.  Just tell it to me straight.  What do you need me to do?”

“I need you to help me enter Epir's dream.”

A beat of silence stretches on between us.  “How do I do that?  I don’t even know how I entered Zefa’s or Ethan’s dreams.  Or how I even got here.”

“Sleep is probably the time when he is most vulnerable.   His personal guard and his army are very loyal.  We are lucky to get what little intelligence we receive.  Psychometrists are master manipulators because they know exactly what you hold near and dear.  Pair that with his sociopathic tendencies and we have someone who has garnered very loyal followers.   His wife Umira is a very powerful shield, no one can get inside that head of hers.  She protects his mind as well and I cannot get to him when he sleeps.  But as practiced as I am, your natural ability outshines mine.  Your mind is incredibly strong.  You were able to travel hundreds of light years away to where Ethan was.  You have to try.  There is no other way I can get close enough to kill him.”

I try to grasp the gravity of the situation but doubt is spreading in my mind, taking over my thoughts.  “What if I can't do it?”  I think of Zefa, lying crumpled on the grass.  I think of Ethan, his chest pooling with blood.  I think of Fyro, the sound of blood gurgling from his gaping throat.  Failure would mean death for everyone I cared about.

“It was easy for you to go to Ethan because you care about him.  Sentient creatures automatically seek comfort during difficult situations.  When you found Zefa, you were scared and you sought out the one whom you thought could help.”

“You're missing a key element here--I was in those dreams by myself.  How will I bring you into Epir's dream?”

“I speculate that once our minds are connected in the dream state, we can stay together since our abilities lie in the dreamworld.  The difficult part will be entering Epir's dream.  Umira will have set up traps inside his mind, it will be incredibly dangerous.”

“What do you plan on doing then?  If we actually get in?”

“You and I know all this is not real because you are a
weifarere
and I am a
conduktr
.  Our minds know this is not real but our bodies do not.  When you die in your sleep, you die in real life as well.  It is the our only chance.”

I allow myself a flicker of hope.  I could help Izic kill Epir and end this war, “Can it really be done?  Have you tried?”

“This is an unusual circumstance, I’m not sure--”

Abruptly, the room and Izic are barreling away and I have the oddest sensation of falling away from the room like I’m being plucked away.  I open my eyes with a gasp, light flooding in from the high windows.  I cringe and place my hand in front of my eyes to block the streaming light.  

It takes me a moment to realize I am back in my dollhouse prison.  Umira is standing over me, her eyes are narrowed violet slits and her bright red lips are pursed as she peers down at me.  She taps her heel impatiently.

“Get up.  Epir wants to see you.  Now.”  She keeps her tone even, but starts to pace back and forth along the short length of the room, her heels clicking loudly on the floor.

Obediently, I push myself into a sitting position and swing my legs over the side of my bed.  As I pull on my boots, her body is positively shaking as she twists a lock of her long hair nervously.  She is frightened.  Something is happening.

Umira and the usual group of guards escort me out of my room.  They are dragging me so quickly through the now familiar staircase that my boots barely touch the ground.  My brain is on high alert, recognizing the hallways as we make our way to Epir's office.  I can't help but notice Umira's growing agitation as we get closer.  Before the guards shove me through the door of the office, I watch Umira disappear behind a door further down the hall.

Epir is sitting at his desk, his elbows resting on the surface and his fingertips pressed together in front of him.  Contemplative, like the first time we met.  His gray eyes assess me in a calculating manner and I force myself to stare impassively back at him even though every fiber of my body is screaming for me to run.  The last time I was in this office, he ripped out his half brother’s throat.  

Epir seems perfectly at ease, a complete contrast to Umira’s frazzled behavior.  A sly smile forms on his lips as I enter the room.  “Please, sit down Fallon.  There is much we need to discuss.”

Warning bells go off in my head.  Epir’s eyes don’t leave me and his smile doesn’t waver.  His smile makes me feel queasy.   Taking a tentative step forward to the white chair, I take a quick scan of the office.  It is once again spotless and pristine, not a drop of blood marring the perfect whiteness of the room.  The other white chair has either been cleaned or replaced since I was last in here.  My heartbeat picks up as I sit down in the same chair as last time.

He rolls his chair forward, perching his body at the edge of his seat closing the distance between us.  Leaning his elbows on the floating desk, he closes in even closer until our faces are inches apart.  My natural instinct is to flinch away, but I force my body to stay perfectly still.  I can feel his breath blow across my face as he speaks.  “Do you know what I am, Fallon?”  

“A coldblooded killer,” I deadpan.

Smirking, he continues to regard me evenly, “You know what your problem is?”

“I’m being held captive by a manic who intends to kill me?”

His gray eyes darken and his lips twist, “You have your father’s high bred morals.  I am so much more than just a killer.”

I stare ahead silently as he leans back in his chair and continues, “Do you know what I am capable of?  What you have witnessed is not even a fraction of what I can do.  Your father has disrespected and disappointed me.  I invite him to come to my first state dinner as King of the Eku but I do not get as much as a response!”

The facade of careful control falls apart as his anger boils over.  His rage is palpable, a vein popping out of his forehead as his face slowly turns puce. Epir is clenching his fists so hard that his knuckles turn white.  “Your father and I grew up together as brothers would.  When we were young, I thought he might have even looked up to me.  But now he treats me like this.  Are we not equals?”  He pounds his fist on the desk to punctuate his point and its contents rattle loudly in response. 

Pushing back from the desk, he gets up from his chair and starts pacing around the room.  I never take my eyes off him having witnessed his unpredictable behavior firsthand.  He perches himself on the desk and leans forward, our bodies inches apart.  My instinct is to flinch back but I lock down my muscles and stay motionless in my chair.  Slowly, Epir reaches inside his suit jacket and my heart starts to beat wildly against my ribcage, my breathing coming out too fast and shallow.

“Do you recognize this?”  Dangling from his fingers is a delicate silver chain with an intricately carved wing.  My heart stops as my necklace swaying back and forth between his fingers.  Instinctively, my hand reaches for my bare throat.  “Fallon, I really need your help.  Do I have your attention?”

“What do you want from me?”  Now my brave facade cracks and I can’t keep my voice from shaking.  My mind is filled with visions of Ethan, the life fading from his eyes as I hold him in my arms.  Izic was right about Epir.  He would hurt everyone I ever cared about to get what he wanted.

Epir holds the necklace up to the sunlight and swings the wing back on forth on the chain, inspecting the charm.  “I grow weary of this game with your father.  I need to bring him here.  We need to put an end to this.”

“How can I make him come?  He already knows I’m here.  Izic won’t negotiate with terrorists.”

“Izic knows me too well.  He will not come because he knows I will kill you upon his arrival.”  At the casual mention of my imminent death, Epir slides off the edge of the desk.  He starts pacing around the room again, sliding the necklace from hand to hand.  “I think the only fair thing to do is an exchange.  Your life for his.  After all, this is not your war.  I need you to convince Izic that I will not kill you, instead I will honor this exchange.”

“Do you expect me to believe that as well?”

Abruptly, Epir slaps me across the face sending my head snapping back.  His eyes are wide and his nostrils flared and I bite back my scream.  Sticking his open palm under my eye line, he reveals the little silver wing nestled in his hand.  His jaw tense, he spits out through clenched teeth, “Did you forget that it is not only your fate that hangs in the balance?”

Jumping out of my chair, my own anger rolling off me in waves, I am practically nose to nose with him, “You might as well kill me now.”

“Do not cross me, Fallon.  I know what you hold dear.  I can and will take everything you treasure away from you.  And when you have nothing left... only then will I take your life.”  He straightens his suit jacket and smooths a strand of hair that has fallen out of place from his show of rage.  “The guards will take you to Umira.  She will help you dictate the message to my liking.  Then we are going to record Izic a little message.  Do we have an understanding?”

I glare at him for a beat longer and then step back and sink into my chair, my fingers gingerly touching my tender cheek.  After a moment, I pull my hand back, examining the bright droplets of red staining my fingertips.  I meet Epir's tense stare and slowly I nod my head in agreement.  What choice did I have really?  Epir's shoulders seems to relax as he presses the button for the guards to enter.  The guards silently yank me out of my chair and escort me to the room I saw Umira entering earlier.  

The size and layout of the room are similar to Epir's office, but the décor is very different.  Whereas Epir's office is clean and efficient, every square inch of this room is elaborately decorated.  An ornately carved wooden desk sits on an animal skin rug.  Umira is sitting at the desk, looking at me expectantly, in a delicate high back wooden chair with the same carvings as the desk.  She nods to the chair across from her, “Please sit.  We are going to record a little message to send your father.”

Without glancing down, I sit down on the chair she offers.  I cannot tear my eyes from the walls of the room.  The main focus of the room lines the white, shellacked shelves built into the walls.  Each shelf is each lined with porcelain dolls wearing elaborate little dresses of various styles.  Hundreds of staring, unblinking eyes.