The Dreamer
Copyright (C) 1996 by Charles Tryon
Chapter 1
"SO, what do you think?"
I jerked my head up to look down to the end of the table where my boss sat. "Sure. It'll work... I think." "When can you have it done by?" "Depends on whether you want it done right or not." He glared back at me in silence. I sighed. "Can you give me one more day to look at it?" He nodded. "OK, but I need something by tomorrow morning before I have to go to the meeting." "It'll be there." He nodded once more and then looked around at the others at the table. "Anything else?" When no one else responded, he stood up. "Guess that's it for today then." The room filled with the sounds of people pushing back chairs and getting up, and quiet conversations as they left the conference room in groups of twos and threes. I sat there for a while as the others drifted off, absorbed in my own thoughts, staring down at the note pad in front of me. It struck me that, aside from today's date scribbled at the top, I had not written down a single thing on the paper. In fact, I really had no idea what I had just agreed to do. My mind had been somewhere else, far away from this place and the harsh glow of florescent lights and the relentless gibberish of wrangling over project dates and delivery schedules and customer focus groups. Instead, all along the edge of the page I could trace my travels, doodles of trees and rivers, and a distant mountain top... "Are you OK Paul?" I jumped at the sound of the voice. It hadn't occurred to me that someone else might still be in the room. I looked across the table and saw Ann staring back at me. "Yea, I'm fine. Just having a little trouble concentrating today." Ann snickered. "I'll say! I thought the Boss was going to carve you up and serve you for lunch by the look he gave you at the end of the meeting. He doesn't like people drifting off on him like that in staff meetings." "I was listening!" I protested. "I'll bet you were. You be ready by tomorrow morning?" "Sure. Why wouldn't I be?" "Well to start off, you don't have the foggiest idea of what we were talking about." I frowned. Ann leaned forward and whispered. "Admit it. You weren't even listening." "Well, I was a little distracted." "No, you were a million miles from here." "OK," I leaned forward and looked at her meticulously written notes, "but you were listening." Ann leaned back again and laughed. "Where would you be without me? This won't be the first time I've saved your skin." She pushed her chair back and stood up. "See me after lunch and we'll go over the fine points." She headed for the door, but turned around to look at me just before she disappeared from sight. "And get another cup of coffee. The sludge in the machine down the hall is enough to get anyone's brain in gear!" I tossed my pencil at her playfully, but she had ducked through the doorway by the time it bounced off the wall behind her. I stared down at the page on my lap again. Down in the corner, almost hidden by the drooping branches of a great pine, a face stared back at me with sad eyes. The thick black hair fell heavy around her shoulders. In a fit of anger, I tore the sheet from the pad, crumpled it and flung it at the basket in the corner. How often had those soft green eyes stared back at me in the past few days? How often had my pencil traced their outline, as if by drawing them I could fill the wide open rift that had torn my soul? She didn't exist. She had never really existed, but yet I had seen her and touched her and felt the warmth of her smile. My ankle had healed long ago, but I could only wish that my soul would heal so quickly. There were too many unanswered questions. I tried to convince myself that it had been nothing more than my imagination's desperate attempt to pass a dreary hour or two, but it still bothered me that I had no idea what it was that I had been searching for, or who I had been fleeing from. I could still feel a chill every time I thought of those black circles smoldering in the grass. I shook my head and stood up. I had work to do, and stewing over a bad dream wasn't going to get it done any quicker. There would be more time to think about all this later. Back at my desk, I stared at the screen of the computer as it sneered back at me, daring me to do something useful. The dull hum of voices and machines rose and fell around me like the sound of distant waves. My resolve melted away and I closed my eyes and slowly breathed in the now familiar smell of dew moistened grass. This was where I had to begin to look for answers. I looked up the slope to the solid granite which thrust itself towards the sky. I couldn't see the black disk from here, but I knew it waited, at the heart of the rock, calling to me. I stepped from the shadow of the trees into the tall grass, and felt once more the tingle of the power which guarded the mountain top. I moved quickly, feeling like someone was watching me. I paused at a spot just short of the edge of the rock. The grass had been pressed down, as if a deer had slept there the night before. I hesitated for a moment, as if looking for something I had left behind, and them moved on. The air was cool and there was a steady breeze, but I was still sweating by the time I reached the top. Somehow, I almost expected it to be different, changed in some way by the coming of the girl, but it was just as it had been before -- the large area blackened as if by fire, and at its very center, a disk so smooth and black that it looked like I could see right through it to another world with clouds racing past beneath my feet. This was where I had brought her, or perhaps more accurately, where she had brought me, and where she had given her last ounce of strength to place her hand before collapsing. As I looked at it now, the disk looked simple enough, but I still feared it. I stood for a long time, watching the reflections of the clouds as the wind whispered and laughed in the leaves of the trees below me. I don't know what possessed me to do it, but I suddenly knelt down and placed my open hand flat on the disk, just as I had seen the green eyed girl do. There was no flash of pain, or crash of thunder or colored lights -- just the sound of the wind around me. "I have been waiting for you." I yanked my hand back and sprang to my feet. Whirling around, I looked to see who had spoken. "Hello?" The trees laughed back me, but no one answered my call. "Who's there?" I began to feel foolish. Perhaps I was imagining things. It was just the sound of the wind in the trees. Still, I was curious now about the disk. I knelt down again and placed my hand in the smooth surface. "Why are you so surprised?" I jumped up again. This time I was sure I had heard a voice -- soft and clear, like the touch of sunrise over the hills as it pushes away the morning mists. The rock on which I stood was bare, so there was no way someone could creep up behind me. I slowly scanned the line of trees below, but could make out no sign of movement or anything to indicate that someone was there. Besides, the voice had sounded much closer than that. "Would you please come out?" I called. "I'd like to see who I'm talking to." There was no response, other than the sound of the wind. I was beginning to wonder if it was getting louder now. In desperation, I looked at the disk again. Hand... Voice... There was some connection. I had no idea what it was, but I thought I would try one more time. I gingerly reached out again. "I knew that you would come back." the rich tones of the voice spun around me, defying any attempt to pinpoint direction or distance. In my confusion, I squeezed my eyes shut. "Uh..." I hesitated, this time holding my hand steady on the disk, "who are you?" "Do you not remember?" There was a touch of sorrow in the voice. It was a young woman's voice, and sounded strangely familiar, but I still couldn't place it. "Can... you give me a hint?" "See with your ears. Hear with your eyes." "You've got to be kidding." There was no reply. "OK, I'll try." Then the face came back to me -- the eyes that had stared back at me from those countless sketches I had drawn, sometimes laughing, sometimes serious, but most often sad. It lasted only for the briefest flash, but it was unmistakable. "No," I protested. "You can't be." "I am here, as long as you are here." "But where are you?" I opened my eyes and looked up. "Here." I could still see nothing but blackened rock falling off to trees in the distance. "I don't see you." "True. Before, you could see me without hearing me. Was not that enough then?" I had to admit that the effect of her voice on me was much the same as sight of her had been before. Soft, clear, wild. "But, how is it that I can hear you now?" "Through the power of the Well. When you come to me here, I can speak to you." "OK, I can live with that, but I still have a problem." "Yes?" "How long can I kneel here with my hand on this rock?" I was sure now that the wind on the top of the mountain was increasing in strength. I crouched lower to the surface of the rock to steady myself. "As long as you need to." I rolled my eyes. Her riddles reminded me so strongly of her playful smiles and glances. "You're not making this easy," I laughed. "No, this will not be easy for you." I was surprised by the serious tone of her voice. I hesitated before speaking again. "How is that?" There was a pause before her voice came again, by now almost drowned out by the howl of the wind. "You must find out." "Now wait a minute," I protested. "I came back here to find you." "No. You came back here to find answers." "OK, so I was curious, but now I don't want to leave you behind again." "When you hear the wind in the pines or the laughing brook, listen for my voice. When the sun sparkles off of the still water, see my face. When the breeze caresses your cheek, feel my touch. When all is darkness around you, know that I am light. I will never be far from you." A sudden blast of wind tore at me and threw me off balance, tearing my hand from the smooth disk and tossing me across the flattened rock surface like a dry leaf. I flung out my arms and legs to stop myself before I was hurled over the edge and lay there panting, struggling to regain my breath as the wind tried to tear it from my lungs. I was bruised, but it didn't feel like I had hurt anything seriously. I rolled over on my stomach and inched my way down the rock towards the grassy edge. "It isn't fair!" I shouted, pounding my fist against the stone. "Life isn't fair." I jerked my head up and saw Ann staring at me from the other side of my desk. She was giving me one of her curious looks. "Isn't that what you always tell me? 'Life isn't fair.' I thought that was the theme of your life." "Yea, I guess it is." "Well, in the mean time, we've got some work to do. I got you some coffee." She held up a Styrofoam cup and then pushed it across the desk towards me. "You really didn't need to do that." Still, I picked up the cup and took a sip. Her earlier description had been accurate. The black liquid that passed for coffee had already sat around far too long, and by now had a bitter burned taste. I forced another sip. At least it was hot. "Hey, what are friends for?" She smiled, but I thought I detected a hint of sadness. The afternoon dragged on. The project was not as complex as I had first thought, and by late evening, Ann and I had finished the preliminary work. It could have used some more polishing on some points, but it would be enough to keep the boss happy. I dropped the papers off on his chair and then packed up my things to leave. I stopped by Ann's desk on my way to the front door. "Walk you out?" Ann looked up and smiled. "Thanks, but I've got a couple more things I need to finish before I leave." "You're too dedicated. You make the rest of us look bad," I teased. She smiled back at me. "Seriously," I went on, "thanks for all your help this afternoon. You saved my skin... again" "Hey, what are friends for?" "You keep saying that." Ann shrugged. "I guess I'm just glad you stuck around when all the others left for greener grass." She looked me square in the eye. "Why didn't you leave too?" "Not enough imagination, I suppose. Too afraid to go off on my own somewhere else." I suddenly straightened up and cleared my throat. "Gotta get going though. I've a train to catch, and they don't run too often at this hour. I don't relish sitting around in a deserted station for long." "See you later." "Yea, good-bye." I walked quickly down to the street. When I got there, the air was still hot and sticky, even though the sun had gone down over an hour ago. The sidewalk was still filled with people. Hundreds of pairs of eyes, each carefully avoiding contact. I put my head down and turned towards the direction of the subway station. I thought about Ann as I walked. She wasn't as brilliant some of the others had been, but I could always depend on her for a honest opinion or a good idea when I was stuck on something. She was one of the few who made it possible to go back to that place day after day. You don't take friends like that for granted. She was a breath of fresh air in that place. The station, on the other hand, was dreary as usual. A third of the lights had burned out and never been replaced, so the ones which remained cast a patchy, anemic pattern of light and dark. The normal crowd of commuters was already gone, but the air still hung thick and heavy, giving a feeling of being hemmed in. I found a bench under a working light and sat down to wait for the next train. I closed my eyes. Under the shelter of the trees, I was protected from the full force of the wind, but I could still hear its furry as it ripped at the tree tops. The thunder had risen to an almost continuous roar. The light of the sun had little hope of making it through the heavy storm clouds which rolled above me, but the forest was still illuminated in harsh flashes by the lightning which leapt around the top of the mountain. I wondered how many of those fiery bolts struck the center of the rock, and if they might be the source of the burned pattern around the central disk. I had to leave the area, but I had nowhere to go, or even a clear indication of which direction to head in. I cast about, searching for the same feeling of certainty which I had experienced before when I had first started through the forests for this place, but nothing came. Finally, lacking anything better to do, I headed back down the mountain, retracing the steps I had taken to reach that point. The disk still puzzled me. It was clear now that the girl had left something of herself there when she placed her hand on that spot. Now, touching the disk myself, I was able to create some sort of link with whatever part of her still existed within the rock, and through that link to speak with her. I was overjoyed that, at least in some way, she was still there and I was able to hear her voice, but now, scrambling down the side of the mountain, I was stung by the irony that every step left her farther and farther behind. Answers to questions. That was what she told me to find, but I wasn't even sure of the questions yet. The first question was why she had been waiting for me to return. It would be nice to imagine that she was just glad to see me again, but I felt it was deeper than that. Why was I here again? Heavy drops of rain began to fall through the trees, and I did my best to pick up my speed. There were rock outcroppings all around me, and I had to pick my path carefully to avoid suddenly dropping over one. More than once, I had to retrace my steps up the mountain in order to find my way around a drop-off. Finally, the skies opened up and the rain began to fall in sheets, and I gave up and took refuge under a hollow in one of the rocks. The overhang was not very deep, but it was enough to keep the worst of the spray from soaking me to the bone. I sat there, huddled against the rough back of the hollow, and stared out at the sheet of water which cascaded down only a few feet from my nose. The woods in front of me flashed into brilliant detail with every lightning strike, falling back into a dull haze in between. Someone was out there. There clouds unleashed their furry against the rocks and trees, and sometimes the lightning flashes flickered for a second or two. The underbrush, swaying in the wind, jerked back and forth in a drunken dance in that light, making their motion difficult to follow, but I was still sure I had seen something else out there move. I pushed myself back into one of the cracks in the rock face, wishing that I could make myself smaller, but there wasn't anywhere to go. I considered bolting, but that would only reduce whatever little protection I had. The rifle was gone. There was nothing to do but wait. "Can ya spare a buck?" "What?" "A dollar. I need to get a ticket to take the train home. See, someone lifted my wallet, and my wife's sick, and..." I looked up into the eyes of the man standing in front of me with his hand out. His long gray coat was grubby and smelled of strong drink. "Sorry." I looked away. "Just a dollar... or fifty cents. I need to get home." I didn't answer. He was probably looking for money for another drink. It never ceased to amaze me the stories they came up with though. "Buddy, don't you have fifty cents? I'll pay you back tomorrow." I grunted. Ignoring him wasn't going to make this one leave. Finally, I shoved my hand into my pocket and dug out a couple of quarters. It was a small price to pay for a little bit of peace. "Thanks! You're really great. I'll pay you back. I promise." With that, he shuffled off into the gloom. "Are you here to help us?" the voice growled. The sharp rocks behind me dug into my back and my left arm was going numb from the pressure. A dark form stood in the rain just beyond the lip of the overhang. Water poured off of the edge of the broad rimmed hat which shadowed his face. "You make that sound like a threat." My stomach tightened, and I was beginning to shiver in spite of the heat. "No. A simple question." "I've had enough questions already. To be honest, I don't know why I'm here." The dark figure considered for a moment. "You have been to the top of the mountain." "Yes. How did you know?" "I have been watching. Why were you there?" "More questions..." I was unsure how much to reveal. "To talk to someone there." The figure took a sharp step back and I wondered if I'd already said too much. "What did they say to you?" "Not much." "Are you the one who brought the storm?" I laughed in spite of the pain of the rocks digging into my back. "No, I don't posses such great powers. Otherwise, why would I be hiding here under this ledge?" There was another flash of lightning, and I caught sight of at least one other figure crouched behind another outcrop, a short distance down the slope. My heart sank. "This is not good," the figure mumbled. A quick hand signal and a third figure, dressed much like the first, slipped from behind a tree. The two of them spoke in low tones before the first one turned back to me. "Follow me. This place is too open, and there are those who would follow us with their eyes and ears." He turned abruptly and began to walk down the slope. "You got an extra one of those hats by any chance?" The figure made no indication that he had heard my question, but two more moved to either side of me, standing like silent statues. I decided it wouldn't be such a bad thing to get a little wet. They moved quickly through the wet undergrowth, walking with the certainty of those who knew the terrain well. I, on the other hand, slipped and fell often, and by the time we reached our destination, I was wet to the bone and covered with mud. There was a shallow cave hidden behind a screen of young trees. The dark figure signaled for me to enter while the others faded into the mists around us. A small candle burned in a corner of the cave, flickering with every gust of wind which found its way through the opening. I wondered when it would go out. It cast only enough light to reveal that there were no other obvious exits. "This is not the best place," the man said, "but it will do for now." He crouched down between myself and the entrance of the cave. "If you're not who I think you are, then we could be in a lot of trouble, but that's a risk I'll have to take. Life is full of risks." "So I've noticed." Despite his words, the man did not remove his hat, and between its wide brim and the high collar of his oilcloth coat, I still could not see his face clearly. "Do you have any idea who we are?" I was beginning to lose patience. "No, but if I did, I might find it easier to answer your questions. I have been hounded, attacked and threatened since I came here..." I stopped short. I'd said too much already. "Since you came here? Then you are not from here originally. And, you must have made some friends. You said you spoke to someone on the top of the mountain." "Not much escapes you." "No, but then you are not so experienced at hiding your thoughts as the Others are." "You can read my thoughts?" This I was not prepared for. The other laughed. "No, nothing as sinister as that. I read nothing more than what you tell me, though often a person tells much more than the words he speaks. Sometimes I think the Others can read our thoughts, but I doubt that even they have such powers." "Would you please tell me what is going on here?" I asked, struggling to keep my temper. The man across from me considered my request in silence for a time before he moved. Finally, he removed his hat and placed it carefully on the floor next to him. He had a young face, kind but serious, with deep set eyes and slender nose. His skin was dark, as if he spent a great deal of time under the harsh glare of the sun. "There is no way to know for sure, but every nerve in my body tells me that you are a Jumper. Sometimes the Others try to trick us, but if you had actually been a Thief, you probably would have attacked us by now. They care little for patience, which is probably why we have been able to survive for even this long." "A 'Jumper,'" I repeated slowly. "What exactly does that mean?" "Well, one who jumps. You will be sitting talking to one of them just as you and I are talking here, and suddenly, they vanish. A little while later, they may show up somewhere else. I might be seconds, or hours, or they may never again return. Where they go, no one knows. They just jump." He frowned. "To be honest, you are the first I have actually met, so I am only telling you what I have heard from the old story tellers." "And who are, the 'Others', as you call them." The man sighed. "They too are able to come and go, just as the Jumpers, but they also shift their form at will, from a beautiful maiden or an innocent child to the shadow of death in an instant. We call them the Thieves, since their one purpose is to kill and destroy and steal. A Jumper may accidentally hurt someone, but that is not their nature. A Thief leaves nothing behind but pain and sorrow and death. And, they always return..." "And when they attack, you rarely see them," I added. Pieces were starting to fall into place. "Yes," the other replied in a low voice. "You have been attacked?" "A number of times. I was hit once, and..." I wasn't sure if I should say anything about the green eyed girl yet. The other raised his eyebrows. "You were hit... and survived?" I nodded. "Then there is more to you than I thought." I didn't want to raise the man's expectations of me too much, but I let it slide for now. The storm had moved on while we had talked, and it was quiet now except for the soft patter of the rain on the rock outside of the cave. Suddenly, the quiet was smashed by a whistling scream and a loud explosion outside the cave. The opening was filled with smoke and rock fragments stung my face and hands. "We are discovered," the man spat. He was already on his feet, hat in hand, heading for what was left of the opening to the cave. I was on my feet in an instant. As soon as I hit the dust and smoke at the entrance, he grabbed my shoulder and pulled me through. "Sir, it's late. I'm sorry, but you can't stay here all night." The hand on my shoulder shook me again. My head swam. "What time is it?" "It's past 1 o'clock. You need to move on." I swore under my breath. "I must have fallen asleep and missed the train." The officer gave me a sorrowful look. "Well, you can use the pay-phone over on the wall there to call someone, but you can't stay here overnight." I forced myself to my feet. "Yea, thanks. I'll find someplace." "Sorry to push you out, but them's the rules." I stumbled at first, but then forced myself to straighten up. It wouldn't help if the officer thought I was drunk as well as sleepy. I had no one to call, so I headed back up to the street. When I got there, I found that the air had finally cooled off, to the point where I shivered. I knew the office would be locked up by now, so I couldn't go back there. I didn't really feel like paying the exorbitant fare for a taxi, just to get to get home in time to turn around and come back again. I considered just walking the streets until sunrise, but that wasn't really safe either. I spotted a narrow alley between two of the buildings. It was fairly clean and shielded from the prying eyes of others who might be out prowling the streets at this hour, so I slipped in and sat down in a dark corner, hoping that no one at the office would notice in the morning that I'd worn the same shirt two days in a row. I tried to sleep, but I'd slept just enough in the station that now I was wide awake again. Instead, I pushed my mind back to where my imagination had taken me. Jumpers and Thieves. They were certainly interesting terms, and I thought it was pretty funny how I had made them up. It was strange how the mind would wander if you just let it. Too bad I couldn't conjure up the same level of creativity when I was at work. However, I was almost afraid to go back now. It was as if I had lost control. When I had wandered with the green eyed girl, I always held on to the feeling that I could turn this thing on and off at my own pleasure. It was a rather vivid daydream, but it was still just that -- a daydream. Now the dream had taken on a life of its own. It was like dreaming about falling off of a cliff -- I'd always wondered what would happen if you ever hit the bottom before you woke up. Still, it made an interesting puzzle to solve, one that I was not ready to give up on yet. I was a logical person, so all the pieces of the puzzle would have their logical place. My task was simply to find those places. There would be more pieces to find as the patterns became more and more complex, but that was all part of the challenge. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the brick wall behind me, letting my mind go... When I opened my eyes again, it was dark -- the kind of dark where you can't tell the difference between having your eyes open or closed. The air was stale and musty, like it had not moved for a very long time. I held my breath and listened. There was no sound other than the beating of my own heart. I wondered if I was in one of the safe holes like the one I had discovered before, but then I remembered that the last time there had been dim light panels all around the room. The darkness here was complete. I reached out my hands and felt around me. The floor was cold and smooth like finished concrete or stone, as was the wall I leaned against. It was obviously not a natural cave. I crawled forward in an attempt to determine the size of the room, but I found nothing besides smooth floor. The inky blackness was disorienting, and I soon realized that I had lost my sense of direction and couldn't find my way back to the wall I had been leaning against. This was troubling, since it meant I could not follow along the wall to find a door or window or any other way in or out. I had no idea if I was simply wandering in circles, perhaps only inches from the wall. My hand brushed across a small irregularity in the floor -- either a seam or crack, it didn't matter. It was something I could follow along. There was no guarantee that I would find anything before the crack ran out, but by this time, I was ready to cling to any tiny hope. The crack went straight across the floor. At one point, it shrank to almost nothing, but I was able to trace a circle around the last place where I could feel it, and at the far edge of my reach, I picked it up again. My progress was slow, but I at least I didn't think I was going in circles any more. Sure enough, I eventually reached a wall. When I felt around, my hand stumbled across a shallow hole which had been cut into the side, like a step. Reaching further up, I found another, and another. I had found a ladder. I contemplated going up, but it was too risky climbing in the dark. I couldn't tell where or how far the steps went, or if they would simply dead-end. I would save that option for last. I stood up and placed one hand against the wall and held the other out in front of me. Moving my toe along the floor, I took one step, and then another. I moved slowly, checking the floor in front of me. In the utter darkness, each step felt like I was about to fall out into open space. After a dozen paces or so, I began to gain confidence and moved more quickly. Even with my caution, I almost fell when my foot ran into something soft. I knelt down and felt ahead of me, trying to guess what I had run into. It was soft and covered with a slick film. It was still warm. I recoiled in fright and fell back against the wall. I wasn't sure if it was a body, but that was the first thing that came to my mind. Instinctively, I began to wipe my hand against my pants, trying to get the sticky film off. "Funny little mouse... See how it s-s-s-s-squirms." I jerked my head around in an attempt to locate the soft, hissing voice, but I could make no sense of direction. "It thinks it can find us-s-s-s-s-s." The voice buzzed in my ears. It felt like it was coming from all directions at once. "Who are you?" I forced through clenched teeth. "Your worst fears... or your greatest pleasure, depending on how you look at it." It began to laugh in a long drawn out hiss. "Where am I?" "You don't know? Silly little mouse, you're in my playroom." I could take darkness, and being lost, but this voice I could not tolerate. It was time to walk away from the dream and back into reality. A cold alley was uncomfortable, but it was better than this. I forced myself to a standing position, closed my eyes and willed myself to leave. I opened my eyes expecting to see the dim lines of the alley where I had taken shelter, but in front of me was only darkness. "What are you doing?" the voice hissed and buzzed. "I'm leaving." "Oh, but you have not asked to be excus-s-s-s-s-ed yet." Something was wrong. Very wrong. I bit my lip until I could taste the blood. Nothing happened. I couldn't understand. I felt like I was hurtling down the face of a cliff, but I couldn't see where the bottom was. I was trapped in a dream that refused to end. I panicked, throwing myself away from the wall and running without thought of caution or safety. All I could think of was getting far, far away from the hateful voice which buzzed inside my head. There was a brilliant flash when I slammed into the wall, and then nothing...
Chapter 2
When I awoke, my head throbbed, and everything in the alley appeared double. I tried to sit up, but waves of nausea washed over me. I heaved, and it was all I could to push myself away from the stinking bile.I reached my hand up to my temple and found my hair sticky with blood. I figured that I had been knocked over the head by someone, which would explain the headache, nausea, vomiting and blood. I reached down to my back pocket and groaned. My wallet was missing too. Of course! I'd been foolish enough to sleep by myself, in a dark alley, someone had found me, knocked me on the head and stolen my wallet. Do stupid things and you should expect bad things to happen to you. The fact that I had now deduced what had happened didn't make my head feel any better. I finally managed to sit up and rested for a while. I had stuffed a handkerchief in my back pocket the day before, so now I got it out and tried to use it to clean up a little of the blood. I was sure my boss wouldn't appreciate me getting blood all over his expensive computer equipment. The alley was warm with the first rays of the sun as it pushed its way over the horizon, but all I could think of was the blackness I had left behind. The fear and dread clung to me like an oily film. I looked down at my hands and shivered. There was still blood on them from the gash in my scalp, but I couldn't help remembering the feeling of the warm, soft heap hidden in that dark pit. Who else had stumbled into that place, and not been able to escape as I had? I had been able to Jump. Right now though, I felt like I couldn't even stand up. I had to move somehow, but the thought of going back to work, hungry, dirty and with a bleeding gash in my scalp, was even more distressing than the throbbing lump on my head. I hated to call in sick, but it might give me a little more time to get cleaned up. I didn't want to spend the morning answering peoples' dumb questions. The trip home was a painful blur. I walked slowly to avoid stumbling, but I could still feel the eyes as people watched, careful to avoid contact when I looked at them, but staring and whispering as soon as I had passed. The train bumped and slammed its way down the track, and every jolt threatened to send me reeling. The pavement under my feet shifted and sank as I forced myself to walk the couple of blocks from the station to my apartment. I let myself in and eased into a worn chair in a dim corner. I wanted to sleep, but fought it, remembering the hissing, snarling voice. Though I knew it was no more than a dream, it was, none the less, a voice I never wanted to hear again. I was relieved then when I opened my eyes to the sound of a bubbling brook. The green light which filtered down through the trees around me was warm and pleasant, and the breeze was filled with the scent of fresh grass mingled with wildflowers. I heard the sound of footsteps on gravel and stiffened. I lay in a stand of tall grasses which grew along the bottom of the narrow gully, and I thought they might hide me from discovery. "Ah, so you are back." The man who stood looking down at me had pushed back the wide brim of his hat, but it still took me a few seconds to recognize the face. He looked different now in the full light of day than he had by the flickering light of a candle. "I was starting to wonder if we had lost you in the attack." "Not this time." The man smiled. "I knew you would return, even though the rest of them told me I was a crazy old fool. You are here for a reason." I sat up and winced in pain as I remembered my throbbing head. "That may be true, but I certainly haven't figured out what that reason is yet." "You have not come back without a struggle I see." "Yea, someone thumped me over the head." "Oh," he answered thoughtfully. "A Thief?" "No, it was just some... well, yes I guess it was." It was clear that he was referring to one of the mysterious entities he had mentioned before, and while I was still not clear on who or what these were, whoever had hit me fit the description. "He took my money." He pulled out a small bundle of bandages and salves, and after cleaning the wound with clear water from a small canteen, he put a bitter smelling ointment on it. As distasteful as the smell was, the pain began to subside, and he assured me that the swelling would go down soon. I quietly submitted to his help, glad for the strength that I felt creeping back into my limbs. "I must apologize," he said, once he had finished and put his things away. "I haven't even told you my name. I am Tarric. You are fortunate. Not many can say they have escaped an attack." "But you were able to get away when we were attacked at the cave." "Yes, but the other two had already vanished by the time I got out. I have not seen them since." "How long has it been since we spoke in the cave?" Tarric looked surprised. "A week and three days. You do not remember?" I had been gone for only a few hours, but in that time more than a week had already slipped by here. There was much I had to learn. I lay back and gazed at the blue sky. High above, the winds pushed wispy clouds by us in a lazy procession, and small birds wheeled back and forth chasing invisible insects. Crickets chirped in the long grass around me. Unseen fears and creatures that attacked in the dark felt far away. All around me here was peace and beauty. "The situation has become much worse here recently." "Oh?" I responded, "in what way." "The Thieves. They have always been here, but in the shadows, and only rarely seen. We could never find a way to fight them, but since they never seemed to be a serious threat, we chose to ignore them. Perhaps that was a mistake." "And now you think I've come to help, right?" Tarric nodded. "Do you have any idea how?" He frowned. "You don't know?" "No, I'm afraid I am as much in the dark about these creatures as you are. I don't know what they are, why they've come or how to make them go away." "But you'll find out." "Don't get your hopes up." Tarric didn't appear to be happy with this answer, but he let it pass. I tried to concentrate, but my thoughts wheeled around in a jumbled confusion. I told myself that everything I saw here was the product of my own imagination -- a dream, a fantasy, a nightmare. There was nothing real here... or was there? If it was something I had created, then it was somehow a part of me, and since I was real, in some sense, what I saw around me was real too. I laughed and wondered if they had any psychoanalysts here. Tarric sat up in response. "You have an idea?" "No. I was just thinking. What have you already tried against these... Thieves?" Tarric frowned. "We are not a people skilled in warfare, so we have only a few weapons at our disposal. They are too quick for conventional weapons -- rifles and explosives. They cannot be seen until they attack, and then it is too late. They cannot be tracked. They have no lairs, no fortresses, no supply lines. They don't move in armies or have commanders. They don't even appear to have objectives, other than to kill and maim and destroy." Tarric hesitated and looked away. "We knew it would be risky, but we have turned to the Adepts to see what they could do." "Who... are these Adepts?" Tarric shifted nervously and lowered his voice. "Those who harness the powers of the elements and bend them with their minds and voices to do their bidding. In the past, their practices were strictly forbidden, but we have been left with little choice." "Have they been able to do anything?" "I do not know. They claim to have held back the growth of the threat, but they have done nothing to reduce it. Perhaps, they have reduced the frequency of the attacks, but the furry of the Thieves has grown. Entire villages have been razed in a moment." I rolled my eyes. "Are you sure who's side these people are on?" Tarric looked at me again. "What is our alternative? This is why we are hoping that you will be able to help." I groaned. "I'm a stranger here. I don't know the people. I don't know the land. I don't know what powers are at work here. I'm not even one of these 'Adepts' as you call them." I threw up my hands in desperation. "What can I do?" "You are a Jumper. You are our last hope." I put my head down on my hands. There was no way I could convince Tarric that I was as powerless as he, or explain to him that, as far as I knew, he didn't even really exist, that he was nothing more than the product of a severe bump on the head. "I'll try," I said finally, not so much because I believed I could do something, but to get him to stop bothering me. "I will make no promises other than that." Tarric smiled. "I ask no more. We will help in any way we can. We will give our lives if it means that we can save our land." I forced myself to a standing position. "Where is the mountain?" Tarric stood quickly to his feet and pointed across the brook and into the forest. "There, at least a day's journey. Shall I take you there?" "No," I answered with a grunt, "I think I can make it myself."
Chapter 3
I had never seen such an intense shade of blue. The sky stretched over me like an enamel bowl, with the sun sitting neatly on the horizon. The air had already taken on a distinct chill with the setting of the sun, and the wind was dead calm. I had little time to waste before it went completely dark.The disk in front of me glowed with a chill light of its own, as if it held on to a little of the sunlight which had flooded it through the day, or perhaps there was some other source within the disk itself which was trying to shed some light on this dying day. I knelt down on the black stone. I had come in the twinkling of an eye, swift as thought, leaving Tarric behind by the brook to wonder. Perhaps I did still have some power here, within my own mind. My hand touched the still warm surface of the disk. "Are you still there?" I thought. "Yes, I am here." The sound of the voice danced around me like an excited child. "I am glad that you have come back!" "What am I doing here?" I asked out loud. The sound of my voice felt coarse and ugly against the soft colors of her speech. I was a foreigner in this place, and I could feel the mountain top recoil at the temerity of my approach. The hair at the back of my neck tingled as the power around me began to build. I pressed my hand harder against the disk, as if it and presence of the girl within the Well were the only things protecting me. "You are asking questions." I let out a quick laugh. "That was really helpful." "Thank you. I am here to help you." Her innocence in the face of my sarcasm embarrassed me. I let the comment pass. "What do you know of this fellow Tarric?"