Emerald City Dreamer
Read Emerald City Dreamer Online
Authors: Luna Lindsey
by
Luna Lindsey
Book One in the Dreams by Streetlight series
Copyright (c)2010-2012 by Luna Flesher Lindsey
Cover Art (c)2012 by Ana Cruz
Illustrations (c)2012 by Elizabeth Lindsey
All rights reserved.
Font "Little Trouble Girl" by Jess Latham used in Cover Art,
www.bvfonts.com
This publication is protected under the US Copyright Act of 1976 and all other applicable international, federal, state and local laws. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
• • •
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real.
First digital publication: March 2012
This book is dedicated to Seattle, to all she is, was, and ever will be. Especially to all the wonderful places that
have closed, or moved but just aren't the same anymore.
• • •
Tir Nan Og may or may not be real, but Seattle is magical just the same. Here's to all the genius loci of the Emerald City.
WAR . . .
. . . is a subtle thing. At least in the beginning.
The horrors of real war repel every sane person. Yet, at its root, each war starts with a simple and all too
common compulsion
- the
desire to do the right thing
.
Seattle is a beautiful city, flanked by the ports of an inland sea to the west and towering snow-capped mountains to the east. It is a
haven for peace
-loving citizens.
The bustle of the
aircraft
and
software
industries, along with the flow of
international commerce
, provide the usual weekday tensions. These are routinely relieved by either loud
music
, salt
water
spray, powder
snow
, or a
pine
-scented trail.
The
diversity
of life here is great, greater even than some can imagine. The diversity of the city is also balanced by a level of
tolerance
unmatched in the world.
Within this haven stirs a
hidden tension
- the
seeds of a war
that could engulf
all reality
in a global battle against its
unperceived residents
. It is an
ancient war
to some, an
impossible war
to others, an
unthinkable war
to all. And the seeds are
unknowingly, subtly, being nurtured
on both sides.
WAR is a subtle thing . . . at least at the beginning.
KEEP AN EYE ON THE CREEPY ONE,
the note said.
Jina looked up and followed Gretel's nod to a new girl sitting at the edge of the table. Appearing anorexic, she wore a black sweater over a collared shirt, a pleated skirt, and striped stockings. Her stringy, long black hair concealed her eyes. Jina wondered if she were emo or goth. It was getting harder to tell the difference.
"
Would anyone like to say how you heard about the Survivors of Faerie Trauma, Seattle Branch?" Jina's gaze lingered on the creepy one, but a different woman, also new, raised her hand.
"
I saw your flyer at
Outside the Lines
bookstore," she said. "I'd really like to learn how to get faeries to come to my garden."
Jina smiled politely. Another one of these types. She should visit Home Depot and buy a ceramic gnome. Looking for the fae was like hoping to catch the bird flu, or praying for a plague of insects. But whatever.
"
Thank you," she replied. "You may not find what you want here, but you're welcome to stay." The flyer specifically said that the group was for survivors of faerie attacks, abduction, abuse, and harassment, but most of these people were interested in meeting faeries on purpose. Insane.
"
Would anyone else like to say how you heard about us? The meeting won't begin for another five minutes."
There were no takers, so Jina tapped her pencil impatiently against the plastic table. Two such tables had been placed end to end to form a larger one. This was surrounded by plastic chairs and plain, practical walls. A plastic room in a plastic community center in a plastic part of town.
At least the assortment of weirdoes brought some color to this place.
To her left sat Kimberly, a young woman with ribbons woven through her hair. She wore about a dozen bracelets, another dozen necklaces, a couple of eyebrow piercings, a bright yellow tank top, and a skirt that appeared to have been sewn together from ragged quilting squares. It was something Jina herself might have worn at college ten years ago, although maybe not so flashy, nor as many accessories, and certainly sans ribbons.
Next to her sat the faerie-gardener, middle-aged with short dark hair, smiling pleasantly and wearing a black sweater and a long frilly brown skirt.
Beside her sat Tom, a regular, and one of the few men to have joined the group. He had a balding head, a long white beard, a faded red t-shirt, and khaki cargo pants. Jina imagined he'd grown up on a commune in Eugene, and if she ever needed a new weed dealer, she figured he was the one to call.
Next to him sat another male, a new guy. She could tell by the way he looked at Kimberly that he wasn't here for faeries at all. Jina had been to enough twelve-step meetings to know they called his kind "thirteen-steppers".
He winked at Kimberly, and then tried to talk to the creepy girl, who sat to his left. She smiled tightly, ignored him and calmly assessed the rest of the group.
There were a couple of empty chairs, and then a little old lady. She'd been here before. She had an old-lady-sounding name, like Mabel or something.
Gretel sat beside Jina. She looked about eighteen, which wasn't quite true, and had a round face with glasses perched upon her nose. She sat up very straight and business-like while eyeing the scrawny girl with thinly-disguised suspicion. The girl turned her head and stuck out her tongue at Gretel. Gretel looked away.
Jina herself had long blond hair loosely held back by a clip. For the sake of the meeting, she managed to pull off a business-casual look using a blouse and plain skirt she borrowed from Sandy. Even then, her sweater wouldn't quite stay on her shoulders and she fidgeted in her chair. Any other time, she could be found in jeans and a tank top.
Sandy had wanted her to start dressing less casually for these meetings, hoping to project a more professional attitude. Appearances never mattered at any of the other support groups Jina had attended, but lately she'd given in to Sandy's nagging.
It helped to think of it as a disguise. Lately after playing at concerts, she'd noticed a certain creep sitting at the bar, and at other times and places around the city, and she'd wondered if he'd been stalking her. He wasn't hard to spot: a shabby man who always wore a stripped scarf. As far as she could tell, he hadn't followed her here, so maybe wearing Sandy's clothes had given him the slip.