Dreamstealer: Dreamwalker, #2

Angela Wallace

Copyright 2013 Angela Wallace

Cover art by Amber Shah at BookBeautiful.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

​ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Lord, You always surprise me each time I complete another book. You see me through the false starts and doubt and bring me to an end I can be proud of. I couldn’t do it without You. I want to thank my readers for insisting I write a sequel to Dreamwalker. I hadn’t planned to originally, but I’m glad I listened. Writing this book was an exciting adventure I would have missed out on otherwise. Thank you to Jen and Susan for your invaluable feedback along the way. And though they don’t know it, I’d like to thank Peter Hollens and Lindsey Stirling for their version of Skyrim, which inspired so many fantastic battle scenes in my head. Oh, and a huge thank you to my mom for her patience when I played that song for three hours straight while writing. You certainly deserve an award for enduring a writer as a roommate.

I

Lexa stood in the midst of a winter wonderland, letting her senses reach out and guide her instincts. The air felt heavy and still, as though afraid to take a breath. A snowflake brushed her cheek, tickling across her skin in a hurried susurration. It flurried to the ground and disappeared in the ice. Nothing else moved or made a sound. The dreamscape that was usually active and vibrant lay dormant. Heads of green interspersed with the glistening white, but not even a leaf twitched. Lexa tilted her head and listened.

She was on the hunt.

Hushed whispers scuttled across the ground. Words were indecipherable, but the voices slithered with malevolence. Lexa jerked her head their direction and set off. Her footsteps crunched in crystalline snow, careful not to trample single daisy blooms poking their pink and yellow bonnets through the carpet of white.

It could have been cold in the dreamscape, but Lexa didn’t feel it, even through her pants and cotton blouse. There was no sun or moon in this realm to give warmth or light, only an empty canopy of misty blue fog that never dissipated and stretched as far as the eye could see. A mountain in the far north marked the horizon, its top shrouded in the hanging mist. Lexa had never traveled that far to see how high it pierced through the fog.

The rustling voices suddenly silenced. She paused mid-step and ran her gaze across a cluster of bright green bushes. Her eyes narrowed as they settled on one particular shrub whose color looked muted. Gurgling sounds came from underneath the branches, sinister burbles in the otherwise tranquil dreamscape.

Whorls of smoke burst in her hand, coalescing into a sword. Nightmares didn’t run rampant in the dream realm anymore, feeding off fear and blood and tainting the landmarks with ruin and decay, but people still conjured them in their darkest dreams. Whispers of their horror filtered in to the dreamscape and attempted to take root—and it was Lexa’s job to prune them.

She used to fear the nightmarish creatures, had seen them devour people whole, had felt the bite of their ravenous hunger, but not anymore. She tiptoed over the ground, placing her feet on tufts of grass instead of snow as she approached the bush. Upon closer scrutiny, she could spot the subtle changes it had undergone. Individual branches looked dead, the leaves gray and withered, ghostly crinkles almost unnoticeable in the greater splay of green. It would have been a natural progression in the real world, but not here, not as long as she was the Keeper’s steward. And if left unchecked, it could spread like a disease, infecting the beauty around it with rot. Lexa would never let that happen again.

Determination and the thrill of impending battle sent a rush through her veins. Wrapping both hands around the hilt, she lifted her sword and plunged it straight down into the center of the foliage. The blade made a squelching sound as it pierced gelatinous flesh.

A shrill scream split the air and the bush thrashed wildly. Lexa jumped back as black tentacles shot out in every direction. One lashed at her, but she sidestepped it and arced the sword down, severing the limb. It plopped on the snow and squirmed. The creature in the bush squealed. She spun to avoid another tentacle and jammed the sword point into the branches again, giving it a good twist.

The vegetation shook, rending roots from the soil as a wriggling black ball somersaulted out, scurrying on numerous tentacles that extended from every angle of its body. Three whipped their tips at Lexa and she sliced them all in a blazing arc, scattering black ooze and floppy chunks across the ground. Some of that icy cold liquid seeped through her pants; it was a good thing dream blood didn’t stain. The Nightmare shuddered and drew its stumpy appendages in on itself as it screeched and rocked back and forth.

One of the amputated arms at Lexa’s feet snagged her boot, coiling its shortened body around her ankle. She grunted and tried to shake it off, but the thing wouldn’t let go. The main mass kicked up dirt and scurried toward her again. The thing was stubborn, but an easy battle would have bored her. She kicked it hard, careening it across the ground into a tree and jarring loose a dusting of snow. The creature unfolded like a giant pill bug on its back, its tentacles flailing in the air with too many chopped off for it to right itself.

Lexa reached down to grab the curled tentacle on her boot, but it tried to latch onto her wrist and she yanked her hand back. Little creep. She sent the broad sword into smoke and summoned a small knife. Bending over, she skewered the black leech; it squealed and twisted on the tip of the blade.

The Nightmare looked as though it was finally getting up. Lexa arched her arm back and threw. The knife and its nasty little passenger whipped through the air and embedded in the glob. The leech disappeared into the swollen mass as the Nightmare fell back again, ramming the knife in further until the point stuck out the other side where a round maw with rows of jagged teeth gnashed. The monster gurgled a series of guttural sounds. Lexa strode forward, summoning a sword again, and stabbed the blade through the gaping mouth into the creature’s center. It screeched and made a deflating wheeze as the tentacles slithered in on itself. The entire mass shriveled into a wrinkled bead.

Lexa gave her sword a flick, and the bits of Nightmare blood dried and scattered on the air like chaff. The blood seeping through her pant leg wouldn’t be there the next time she visited. She turned and surveyed the snow now dotted with dark blood and severed remains. The ice crystals in those spots began to melt, sinking into black craters in a white wonderland, until the tarnish touched the ground where the dreamscape swallowed it up. Was it a method of cleaning, or did the dreamscape absorb everything into its being? Lexa had seen it store someone’s blood and throw it back up later...though that landmark no longer existed, thank goodness. Wherever the remains went, it only mattered that they stayed away, leaving the dreamscape in peace.

She returned to the tainted bush, broke off the dead sections, and ground them into dust with her boot. Then she replanted the roots and packed the dirt around the stem to hold it steady. Lexa found it ironic she had exchanged being a soldier for tending a huge, unruly garden. Not that she minded, and her former special forces training did come in handy when the weeds fought back. Still, it surprised her sometimes that she could find contentment in this simpler life.

Lexa cast one last look around at the dreamscape with its winter and summer assortment; by tomorrow it could be the budding sprigs of spring and the flaming leaves of autumn. No matter what this realm had to offer, she always found it stunning, always had. She opened her hand and let the sword disappear into mist. Her job was done—for the moment, but there would always be another. She slipped back into her own mind and returned to the waking world.

Lexa opened her eyes to the flat, wood-paneled ceiling of her room. The air felt heavy and hot; she had left the window closed and the afternoon sun beating down from above had heated her chambers, lulling her muscles into a warm and relaxed state. Fighting the urge to fall back to sleep, she swung her sluggish legs over the side of the floor bed and stood. She reached over and slid the pane of her window open, letting in a cool breeze.

The scent of jasmine wafted in from the meticulously kept gardens outside the residential quarters. Rose bushes had been trimmed to symmetrical splays of five stems each, plump strawberries climbed over themselves in bunches along the edge of the bed without overflowing, and not a single fallen leaf lay on top of the finely ground peat moss. On the surface, with its tranquil gardens and simplistic wooden cabins, the Haven appeared nothing more than a quiet abbey, but the sanctuary in the mountains was quite active with wizened old men studying in libraries and common folk tending the stables and nursery, focused on wildlife rehabilitation. It wasn’t the type of place an ex-soldier like Lexa expected to find herself, but she had come to call the Haven home.

Someone rapped at her door. She walked the three strides across the small room and opened it. A young woman with waves of blond hair cascading down her shoulders gave a hesitant smile.

Did I interrupt?

No Gwyn, it’s fine, Lexa replied. After averting national disaster and stopping a war, everyone knew about Lexa’s dreamwalking. She was a hero. But it also made some people nervous, and they walked as though on eggshells around her, worried about setting off the temper of an ex-soldier who could kill them in their sleep. Never mind that she could kill them with her bare hands in the waking world...

Gwyn didn’t treat her that way though.

Were you in the dreamscape?

Lexa turned to the modest dresser and grabbed an elastic band to tie her hair back. Yes.

Gwyn bounded in and sat on the bed, pulling her legs up and crossing them. Will you please take me there again? It was so beautiful.

Lexa suppressed a sigh. She had given in once to the young woman’s pestering and taken her into the dreamscape. The visit had started off well enough, and might have become a habit if Lexa hadn’t discovered that the newly cleansed dreamscape wasn’t completely safe. After stumbling upon a baby Nightmare, she refused to bring Gwyn in again. Unfortunately, the maid’s retelling of what she saw brought other curious people out from the woodwork, requesting to see the dreamscape. But Lexa wasn’t running a tour guide service.

I do have work there, you know. Fighting evil, slaying monsters. Lexa threw Gwyn a pointed look over her shoulder.

She sighed. I know. I just wish I could go there on my own.

It would still be dangerous.

Gwyn shrugged. Oh, the reason I came by is a visitor arrived, someone from Artour. I snuck a close look at his horse and the saddle had the capital’s colors. Looked pretty fancy too.

Lexa’s brow creased in confusion. Though the Haven was an autonomous wildlife sanctuary and research center, the capital subsidized a lot of their supplies, and as such, a government official came once a year to review the books. But now wasn’t the time for that.

Did he meet with Master Oldion? Lexa asked.

In his office as we speak. Went straight there. Gwyn lifted an eyebrow in a conspiratorial expression. The maiden loved gossip. Lexa was more concerned with what official business could bring someone from the capital out of season. She gave herself a mental shake; it wasn’t her concern.

He looked a little handsome too. From a distance, Gwyn continued, picking at a thread in her skirt.

Lexa stifled an eye roll. Gwyn liked to look, but even the girl knew she’d never make it in marriage to a conventional man.

Ahem, a male voice interrupted them. One of the research assistants stood in the doorway, swinging his arms in a nervous manner. Ah, Lexa, Master Oldion wants to see you. He ducked down the hall as quickly as he had appeared.

Lexa frowned. Capital business was no longer her concern; she had retired from the Guard. Whatever this was, it couldn’t be good. She shooed Gwyn off the bed and out the door. They walked down the straight, narrow hallway and out the exit at the end. Lexa stepped onto the flagstone path and turned toward the back of the mountain where Master Oldion’s tower stood. His private study was located up the winding staircase, but his office for official Haven business stood below in the attached cabin.

Gwyn trailed behind until Lexa turned with an arched brow. The young woman sighed and veered off toward the stable across the gardens. Lexa had no idea what a visitor would want with her...unless something had happened to Garret or Tobiah. But why go to Master Oldion first? She reached the base of the tower and knocked on the door. A muffled voice bid her enter, so she squashed her trepidation and went inside.

Master Oldion stood next to his desk with his arms folded into the billowing sleeves of his robe. Lexa didn’t come to this office often, so the clean state of Oldion’s desk with documents stacked in an organized manner was quite the contrast to what she knew of his desk upstairs where papers and open books overflowed onto the floor. It was comforting to know he handled the finances in a professional manner. A single glass wall-unit held the accounting books. In the middle of the room sat a circle of four padded chairs, and against the far wall stood a drink cabinet. Standing next to it, with a glass of wine in his hand, was the last person Lexa expected.

Councilman Mathias wore a sharp-looking suit, a brown-suede jacket that appeared refined, even as it doubled to hide the dust of a long road trip. His dark brown pants achieved the same function, but his black boots held signs of mud and travel. Sand-colored hair swept back from his forehead, slightly tousled and out of place. His goatee had filled out since last she saw him. Originally, she thought it made him look as though he were trying too hard, a boy playing in a man’s political world. Now he looked distinguished.

Mathias smiled at her. Lexa, how are you?

What are you doing here? Did something happen to Garret?

No, of course not. Mathias took a draft of wine.

Then what are you doing here?

He sighed. Straight to business, as you wish. You’ve been promoted. He flashed her a beaming smile.

The Haven isn’t a place for that kind of advancement.

Mathias walked to one of the chairs where a leather satchel sat and flipped the top open. He pulled out a sheet of paper with scrolling cursive and stamped with the Council’s triangular blue seal at the top. Congratulations, the Council has bestowed upon you the title Lady Lexa, official representative of Artasia.

She narrowed her eyes. I don’t work for you anymore.

Master Oldion cleared his throat. I believe you should hear him out.

Mathias gave Oldion what appeared to be a grateful nod. So he’d come to get the old man on his side before broaching the topic with Lexa. Mathias always had been too much of a coward to confront people directly. He’d quit the Guard and run for a Council seat without telling her and the others in their unit. But the fact that Master Oldion seemed concerned about whatever had brought him here put her on guard.

Mathias gestured for her to take a seat. She walked to a chair warily, eyeing him with mistrust. They both lowered themselves into the chairs slowly, eyes locked on each other. Master Oldion went to sit behind his desk and listen.

You may not work for the Guard, but you still serve Artasia, Mathias said in a calm, matter-of-fact tone. And right now there is a mission that only you can undertake.

I doubt that.

He folded his hands across his lap. The new king of Teltania has reached out to us. They believe their princess is a budding dreamwalker.

Lexa’s mouth parted in surprise. Surely she would have known if a newcomer had visited the dreamscape...but it was such a vast place. How could they possibly know that?

Strange things have been happening. One day the princess woke up with scrapes and bruises. She told her maids she had dreamed of climbing trees and falling. Then it seemed as though everyone began having dreams of the princess.

Hardly conclusive, Lexa interrupted.

Mathias gave a sober nod. Some reported dreaming of an incredible realm, full of twisted reality, of being there with the princess. A couple weeks ago, one of the servants died in his sleep, a young man, no cause that anyone could find. He had been one of the ones to supposedly visit that ‘incredible realm.’ Mathias paused and tilted his head. Do you know how he may have died?

Lexa’s stomach twisted into knots. If the princess was truly a dreamwalker...if she had been bringing people into the dreamscape, she may have accidentally or not accidentally left him there. With no dreamwalking ability of his own, he would have wandered until his mind detached from his body, killing him.

What did the princess say about it?

She refused to speak about the matter, but since then the strange dreams suddenly ceased. A bit of a coincidence, don’t you agree? The king requested your help specifically. No one else is qualified to determine if she truly is a dreamwalker, and if so, to train her.

Lexa blinked. Train her? The princess is what, twelve-years-old? I trained disciplined soldiers, not children!

Mathias smirked. Still, it doesn’t change the fact that you are the only one who can do it. If this child goes unchecked, she could present a great danger to those around her. That kind of power must be controlled—

Excuse me? Did the Council think that because of her loyalty they controlled her?

There are many who would try to take advantage of this girl’s power. It’s imperative you form a bond with the child. He reached into his satchel and flipped through more papers.

"You weasel! You’re one of those wanting to take advantage of her, groom her to subscribe to your ideology!"

Mathias straightened his back. We want to ensure peace continues between our two countries. Something as powerful as that must be monitored and controlled, before someone else gets the chance to use her against us.

"Like that? Is that what I’ve become, a powerful pawn to be watched?"

That’s not what I meant! he returned, his face going red. Lexa, she’s a child, vulnerable. Call it good for Artasia or not, who do you want influencing a young mind with that power? We have no idea if she killed that man on purpose, if it was an accident, or if she even feels remorse. And she may do it again. Like it or not, she has the potential to become a danger to not just Artasia, but everyone. Not every dreamwalker will be like you, Lexa. She could grow up to become an assassin like that Dirk.

Lexa flinched and looked away. Was it just the luck of fate that Lexa had become a champion for Artasia instead of a mercenary like Dirk? She remembered the first time she had broken through to the dreamscape—a desperate attempt to escape the pain of her childhood. She had used it as a refuge from abuse, but had never considered using it as a tool for revenge. What if she had? What if her first kill had been a dream one? Would that have sealed her path?

Mathias had a point. Regardless of the selfish political motives he and the Council had behind their reasoning, it didn’t make them wrong. And even though Artasia considered this a mission on their behalf, if the princess of Teltania was a dreamwalker, that made it Lexa’s responsibility. She was the only one who could teach the girl. The dreamscape, while a much safer place than it used to be, still held dangers and monsters. And dreamwalking could be treacherous, as the girl had already discovered. Lexa shook her anger away.

I suppose I must go to Teltania and meet this princess.

Mathias relaxed. I have arranged your transportation. He pulled out additional papers from his bag. Here are your traveling documents and official status as a diplomat of Artasia.

Do we really have to go with that title?

The King doesn’t want to draw attention to the princess’s new ability. Your identity as a former member of the Guard will be kept secret, and your cover is that you are a diplomat visiting Teltania with a gift for the new princess. The King is seeing to matters of state elsewhere, but will return to Toland Castle in a month or two.

The king thinks his daughter might be a dreamwalker, but he’s not even going to be there? Lexa understood the responsibilities of ruling a kingdom, but this wasn’t a minor issue they were talking about.

Again, he doesn’t want to draw attention. He is still a new king, which means many are vying for his attention and favor. We do not want your visit to be widely known.

Lexa supposed that was wise. She would prefer to do this work without distractions. Why aren’t you going and I can just be your bodyguard?

I’m too high up in government; it would be noticed.

Is the princess expecting me?

No, but the steward of the house is, and he’s aware of the situation.

Lexa rubbed her fingers together as she stared at the papers in her lap.

Mathias put a fist to his mouth to cover a nonexistent cough. While you’re there, the Council expects you to take certain...notes. At the moment, we approve of the Teltan king, but one never knows what skeletons might be hanging in the closet. You will report in by dream contacting me.

Lexa pursed her lips and started counting the swirling knots in the carpet. Diplomat, her ass. She was being sent to spy as much as help. If the Council wanted to be that nosy, they could have sent one of their own...though the idea of going on a mission with Mathias the politician would probably drive her crazy. Fifteen minutes into a conversation with him and he had her resorting to calming techniques.

You mentioned transportation?

He nodded. Toland Castle is on the southern coast in the middle of Teltania. The fastest way to get there is by ship, so I’ve secured one for you, the Navarro. It leaves LaFlour Bay tomorrow afternoon.

How nice his efficiency didn’t leave her much time to prepare. LaFlour Bay was only a three-hour ride from the Haven, but she would want to check out the ship and meet its captain before committing to a weeklong journey.

Everything you’ll need has already been prepared and sent ahead to the ship. I’ll accompany you to LaFlour in the morning to ensure everything goes smoothly, Mathias added.

And the surprises just