Dream a Little Dream (7 page)

Spirit stiffened beneath her. That was not a good sign. She stretched a hand toward Mich and gestured for him to mount up behind her.

“I don’t think—”

“Come on. You want me to believe you, don’t you? This’ll prove it. If you are really who you claim to be, then he will not hurt you.”

“What assurance do I have of that? I don’t know him!”

“You trust me, don’t you? If you are not lying, then he won’t hurt you, I promise.”

“Of course I trust you!” He reached up to take her hand.

Spirit flared his nostrils and tossed his head, but Mich did not let go. He pulled himself up and sat behind Nola. Nola sat still a moment, waiting for a response. There was none. Then, Spirit took off down the beach. Mich threw his arms around Nola to keep from falling off. They galloped on and on, until the beach came dangerously close to a housing area. Then they returned to the private part of the beach and dismounted.

Later that night, Nola discussed what had happened with Mich. Mich was disappointed to learn that Nola still had strong doubts. While they rode Spirit, she seemed very happy and sure. But as they walked home, she seemed more and more distant.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Mich awoke in an ice-cold sweat. He complained that he was terribly tired and he couldn’t get comfortable in bed. He got out of bed, shaking and walking back and forth.

Nola finally believed him in one thing: he had not been sleeping. Not the way she did. And he still hadn’t come on to her. He never tried to join her in bed in the night. What was with him?

“Please, Nola, come back to Kafka with me. I will not leave without you! If I stay here, I’ll die. Let me use the spell now.”

Nola felt very sorry for him. Even though he was crazy, he was in real pain. What harm would it do to humor him?

“Okay. Use it. Take me with you.”

“Oh, thank you, Nola!”

“Don’t mention it. Say, don’t you have to be in bed with me?” Maybe now he would make his play.

“No, I’m a Kafkian. The spell will find both me and Spirit. Only you need to be on the bed. Here is the spell.”

He handed her a globe about the size of a baseball. She wasn’t sure where he had hidden it all this time. It looked as if it was made of glass. It was warm to the touch and there was light coming from it.

“What do I do with it?”

“Just think of your dreams, that only you can dream, and wish you were in them. That’s it.”

That seemed easy enough. Nola loved thinking about her dreams. That was her problem: her dreams were so much better than the dismal real world she endured.

Suddenly, there was light everywhere. Then a hole appeared over her and another hole over Mich. They hung in the air like a black piece of paper suspended by a string.

“Reach up to it!” he said. “Climb in!”

She did. Then she believed.

Meanwhile, in Kafka, Heat and Snort waited. They waited all day, then through the next day as well. They waited and waited. They waited by the river for five days, growing more and more worried. If Prince Michael didn’t return on the next day, all would be lost. And there was nothing they could do to help.

On the sixth day, they were joined by one of the palace guardsmen. He explained to Heat that King Edward had sent him to find his son. It had been ten days since his departure from the castle and Mich should have returned on the sixth day. Strange things were going on at the castle and everyone was worried about Mich. But Heat had no answer. He feared the worst.

They waited all through the morning. At noon the guard sent Snort downriver to do some fishing in the rapids. He brought back three large fish and cooked them for himself and the guard. Heat cropped the dry grasses. He didn’t enjoy it, but he was hungry and there wasn’t much else here to eat.

Then the long vigil abruptly ended. Three figures emerged from the water, just before sundown, striding to the bank. Mich had arrived with Spirit and a young girl. Heat knew immediately that she was the Creator despite her ordinary appearance, while Snort was doubtful.

Mich made introductions. Nola was afraid of Snort at first, but
her curiosity overcame her fear and it seemed that they would get along quite well. Heat was very friendly toward her. She was his Creator also; that was why he had recognized her. Yet she was also a new girl who seemed very glassy-eyed and did not speak much at first.

They spent the night camped well inside the Forest of Imagination, away from troll territory. Mich went into more detail about the Fren and Reility. He had no idea why the Fren would dam off the River of Thought, but they had to be stopped. And, gradually, Nola came to feel, if not at home, at least present in Kafka. At first she had seemed, even to herself, to be not quite real here, but now that was changing.

Nola tried her best to understand and comprehend what Mich was telling her, but she still felt as if this weren’t really happening to her. It wasn’t until very late that evening that her belief strengthened enough to eliminate her sensation of disorientation. She had thought Mich was crazy, or a clever impostor who had somehow learned of her secret dream; now she knew that he was her real dream man.

Nola was tired but could not fall asleep. She tossed and turned and even tried counting sheep, but nothing worked. She curled up next to Spirit and still could not drift off.

She was surprised to see Spirit in his dream form. He was so beautiful and noble-looking. Somehow in her initial confusion she had not picked up on that. He was no longer a beautiful horse, he was a unisus—a winged unicorn. A completely magical creature, now as real as she was, in this realm.

Is something wrong, my friend?
thought Esprit in a deep resonate voice.
Your mind seems troubled.

“I’m not sure; I just can’t get to sleep,” she whispered.

Spirit grinned in an obscure, humanlike way, bearing his large white teeth.
Of course not,
he thought,
it is impossible to truly sleep in
Kafka, for that might lead to dreaming. Unless, of course, you are in the waters of the River of Thought. Even then you don’t actually sleep. You merely relax and tune out consciousness for a time.

Nola wasn’t certain of the distinction, but decided to stop worrying about sleep. “What is the River of Thought, exactly?”

It is the source of all life in Kafka. Its waters are formed by all the dreams of humankind. Every drop is a separate hope, wish or fantasy. It is composed mostly of children’s dreams. Not many children are Creators. They are taught from the beginning that imaginary people and animals and monsters are not real. Nor will they ever be real. A child is taught that it is wrong to believe in fantasy and dreams. A child’s dreams last only through childhood, then reality steps in and deals them a fatal blow. You, however, are a very special case. You continue to believe in me.

“I could never bring myself to stop believing in you. You are my friend and I love you.” She put her hand on Spirit’s neck and smiled. “But what about you and Mich and others like you who have been here a long time?”

There are some like us here, but we are few. We remain here because of the small handful of people like you, who retain their dreams throughout their lives.

“What happens to you when I die?”

We are not quite certain, but legend says that if you believe until the end, that your dreams are carried with you wherever you go and that you live within them for eternity.

“Why is it you never spoke to me before I came here?”

In your world, my body and mind are rendered null. I turn into an ordinary horse. That is the way of it for us unisi.

“Oh.”

Dawn is coming up. You should prepare.

“Prepare for what?”

So many questions! To deal with the Fren, of course! Now I will
help you to find something to tide you over until the other guards come with new clothes and rations.

They got up. Nola felt refreshed despite not actually sleeping. But she resolved that the next night she spent here, she would tune out consciousness and see if it wasn’t actually pretty close to what she called sleep. It might be just a matter of definition.

Esprit found a small luberry bush. It was covered with white berries. Nola, hesitant, accepted Spirit’s reassurance and ate half of them. They were unlike any fruit she had ever eaten. They were about the size and shape of large cherries. Their flavor was a mixture of blueberries and peaches. The thin skins were very sweet while the centers were very tart, and each contained a small, pale pink pit. She picked some more and put them on a clump of grass next to Mich.

Mich was resting peacefully. He opened his eyes as she knelt down. He saw Nola leaning over him. She was wiping a smudge from his face.

He noticed she was still wearing her semi-translucent undergarment that she had called a “nightie.” Her pale skin looked as soft as cream and her reddish-brown tresses fell forward, almost into his face. He wished he could kiss her, but dared not. He wasn’t sure if she would react positively to that. He had been excruciatingly careful about that while in the real world, lest he offend her and lose everything. She was, after all, not merely a pretty woman; she was his Creator. He decided it would be better to play it cool for a while longer. However, it was hard to be cool with Nola’s half-naked body so close to him.

“Good morning, Nola,” he said, sitting up and stretching. “I hope you weren’t too cold last night.” If only he could have warmed her by wrapping his arms around her!

Until now Nola wasn’t consciously aware that she was still wearing her little white nightie. She had been showing entirely too much
flesh where it was tight, and possibly even more where it wasn’t tight. It was too late to even try to blush, so she ignored the embarrassment. “Spirit kept me warm last night. So, when do we get started?”

“Soon,” Mich said, stretching and flexing his gorgeous muscles. Nola averted her stare. If only the big hunk had shown even a little urge to grab her! But he remained as indifferent as a brother to a sister. “First we must wait for my father’s guards to bring us clothes and food.”

Nola thought it best not to make any more inquiries on the subject. This was his world, and he knew its conventions far better than she did. Certainly she was scantily clothed.

“You are beautiful,” he said, looking intently at her in the gentle dawning rays of the sun. “You are very brave to uproot your life and come to another world with me, a stranger. Beautiful not just on the outside.”

Nola tried to run her hand through her hair, but it was hopelessly tangled. There was a white lie for sure! Regardless, she could not hold back her blush this time.

She was, however, able to come back with a brilliant retort. “Ditto,” she said.

Mich looked blank.

Nola felt herself compelled to lean forward and kiss him. Then she met his gaze. Once again she found herself locked in Mich’s sparkling eyes. She wanted to stay that way forever! But she somehow found the strength to turn away.

She stood up and walked over to Spirit, who was gingerly plucking the last of the luberries from the bush with his dexterous equine lips. Meanwhile, Mich gulped down the berries that Nola had left for him. It wasn’t much, but it would do.

The group was startled by the sound of something running through the forest. It was one of the king’s guards. He was waving a piece of parchment in the air.

“Sire! We have found you!” The guard tripped and fell at Mich’s feet. Nola managed to stifle her giggle as Mich reached to help him up.

“What’s going on?” Mich asked. “Is my father okay?”

“No, sire, he’s gone! We have searched since you left. We sent Misty up the mountain to see Madrid.”

Mich held back his alarm and tried to settle himself. He thought he had seen Misty last night but couldn’t figure out why the little graveyard ghost would be out in the forest, especially at night. Misty was terrified of the dark.

“Did Madrid know his whereabouts?” he asked, his voice cracking.

“No, sir. Madrid gave this to Misty and told her to give it to you. She was with us, but she disappeared only a few moments ago. Something is terribly wrong.”

Mich took the paper from the guard. “It seems to be an instruction and a map. It says at the bottom here that by the time I get this she will be gone. What is going on here?”

At that moment, another guard came jogging through the woods. The guard stopped a few yards away and leaned against a tree. He was short, fat and sweaty, and he was panting roughly. Strapped across his shoulder was a large satchel.

“Why [pant] must you always [pant] run so fast [pant], Marcus?” he demanded.

“Come on, you dolt,” Marcus retorted. “Bring the Prince’s clothes!”

The guard stumbled forward and threw the satchel down. “That thing is heavier than that sow you were with last weekend! Hello, Derek!” he said, waving to the guard who arrived the night before.

Marcus turned and cuffed his friend on the side of the head. “Enough! I should have fired you long ago! Now unpack their things so they can get on with this.”

Nola couldn’t help but laugh. She didn’t want to hurt their feelings so tried to cover up by helping them remove the clothing. Her hilarity
turned to awe as she removed the dress that was meant for her.

It was beautiful. It was made of red velvet and delicately embroidered with gold thread. The cuffs reminded her of the cuffs of a wedding gown, but were more intricate. There was a bright yellow sash that hung from each of the sleeves. Nola had never seen anything like it. She also found a hair brush and four golden hair combs.

“Forgive me for the dress, unsuitable as it is, but we were in quite a rush,” the fat guard said. “Quickly now, Lady Nola, you must dress and be on your way.”

Nola went behind a dense clump of saplings and dressed. She had a difficult time tying the bodice in the back. It was very tight and smashed her breasts almost flat, causing them to peek out over the top. She tried to loosen it but there was a gap in the back. She exhaled and tightened the strings. Now her breathing was labored, and every time she inhaled her breasts swelled dangerously above, not wanting to be bound. This was definitely not her notion of fit apparel for forest travel!

She brushed out her hair and piled it, piece by piece, on top of her head, fastening it with the combs. “Okay, I’m ready now,” she said as she stepped from behind the tree. “Where do we go?”

The two guards guffawed and the fat one whistled. Marcus slapped the back of his friend’s head again. “Don’t be a jerk!”

Mich walked over to her and took her hand. “You look exquisite, Nola,” he said, his eyes seeming to track her every breath. But perhaps that was just her fond imagination.

Nola was also stunned by Mich. His hair was now brushed and shone as brightly as Esprit’s hide, his face was clean and his clothes were neat. He looked like the knights she had read about in her fairy tale novels. “So do you,” she said, blushing.

“If you please, sir,” Marcus said, “Kafka is falling as we speak.”

“Uh, yes,” Mich agreed, hauling his eyes from Nola’s décolletage. “We better get going now. Madrid drew a little map on this paper that
will lead us to the river’s source.” He looked up. “Do you know where my father went?”

“No, sir. It appears that he has been abducted, but there are no signs of violence.”

Mich was highly disturbed about his father’s disappearance but didn’t let it show. He would have to be in command now. In his father’s absence, he would be responsible for Kafka’s welfare. He hated to admit it, but his father would have to wait. Kafka’s survival was far more important. He hoped that his father had not been Forgotten.

“I’m sure he is fine,” he said insincerely. “We will have to search for him later. Let’s go. Thank you for your service, guards. Return to the castle, and if you find her, send Misty to inform me with news of my father upon his return.”