The War for the Waking World
Read The War for the Waking World Online
Authors: Wayne Thomas Batson
O
THER
B
OOKS BY
W
AYNE
T
HOMAS
B
ATSON
D
REAMTREADER
S
ERIES
Dreamtreaders
Search for the Shadow Key
T
HE
D
OOR
W
ITHIN
T
RILOGY
The Door Within
The Rise of the Wyrm Lord
The Final Storm
P
IRATE
A
DVENTURES
Isle of Swords
Isle of Fire
T
HE
B
ERINFELL
P
ROPHECIES
Curse of the Spider King
(with Christopher Hopper)
Venom and Song
(with Christopher Hopper)
The Tide of Unmaking
(with Christopher Hopper)
T
HE
D
ARK
S
EA
A
NNALS
Sword in the Stars
The Errant King
Mirror of Souls
I
MAGINATION
S
TATION
#8:
Battle for Cannibal Island
#11:
Hunt for the Devil's Dragon
O
THER
E
NDEAVORS
Ghost
War for the Waking World
© 2015 by Wayne Thomas Batson
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any meansâelectronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or otherâexcept for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
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ISBN-13: 9781400323685
ISBN-13: 9780718079192 (eBook)
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data on file
15 16 17 18 19 RRD 6 5 4 3 2 1
Mfr: RRD / Crawfordsville, Indiana /October 2015 /
PO #9362109
Dedication:
Per Gratia Dei
C
ONTENTS
Chapter 2 â Into the Calamitous Night
Chapter 5 â Against the Wind
Chapter 7 â Arresting Developments
Chapter 8 â Corporate Takeover
Chapter 11 â The Sixth Door Sinister
Chapter 12 â Scathing Loyalty
Chapter 14 â Something Scary
Chapter 15 â Opening Statements
Chapter 16 â Glass House Mountain
Chapter 17 â The Case Against
Chapter 18 â Behind the Harlequin Veil
Chapter 19 â Eternal Evidence
Chapter 20 â Cheap Wallpaper
Chapter 21 â A Nasty Sandwich
Chapter 24 â Surprise Witnesses
Chapter 26 â Of Fools and Villains
Chapter 29 â Unstoppable Force
Chapter 31 â Immovable Object
Chapter 32 â Walking Wounded
Chapter 33 â A House Divided
Chapter 35 â Research and Development
Chapter 37 â Whispers and Flame
Chapter 39 â Invisible Friends
Chapter 41 â An Evening at the Symphony
Chapter 42 â Best-Laid Plans
Chapter 43 â Threads of Battle
Chapter 45 â Anchor Protocol
Chapter 48 â The Night of Never-Ending Tears
Law One:
Anchor first. Anchor deep. This means constructing an anchor image that is a rooted and deeply powerful emotion. It must be dear to you.
Law Two:
Anchor somewhere you can find with ease, but no one else can. If your anchor is destroyed or otherwise kept from you, your time may run out.
Law Three:
Never remain in the Dream for more than your Eleven Hours. Your Personal Midnight is the end. Depart for the Temporal . . . or perish.
Law Four:
Depart for the Temporal at Sixtolls or find some bastion to defend against the storm. For the Nightmare Lord will open wide his kennels, chaos will rule, and the Dreamtreader could be lost.
Law Five:
While in the Dream, consume nothing made with gort, the soul harvest berry. It is black as pitch and enslaves your body to those of dark powers.
Law Six:
Defend against sudden and final death within the Dream. Prepare your mind for calamities that may come or be shut out from the Dream forever.
Law Seven:
Never accept an invitation from the Nightmare Lord. Not even to parley. He is a living snare to the Dreamtreader. There is no good faith bargain. With him, the only profit will be death.
Law Eight:
By the light of a Violet Torch, search yourself for Tendrils, the Nightmare Lord's silent assassins.
Law Nine:
Dreamtread with all the strength you can muster, but never more than two days in a row. To linger in the Dream too often will invite madness. The Temporal and the Dream will be fused and shatter your mind.
“D
AD, LOOK OUT
!” A
RCHER SHOUTED
. F
ROM THE
B
ACKSEAT
, Kaylie shrieked.
Mr. Keaton swerved, but it was too late. The SUV clipped
something
, and it sent the vehicle spinning on the icy road.
“Archer, help!” Kaylie cried.
“I'm on it!”
Archer threw out a buffer of his will, a spongy cushion of blue light that adhered to the SUV and gently fought the wild rotation. As the vehicle's spin began to slow, Archer increased the tread on the tires. They caught, and Mr. Keaton regained control of the steering.
“Whew!” Kaylie gasped, huddling in a pile of blankets all restrained by the shoulder harness and lap belt. “Good one, Archer.”
“You . . . you saved us,” Mr. Keaton said, the emphasis of his words so vague Archer couldn't tell if it was a question or a statement. His father white-knuckled the steering wheel as he slowly increased speed once more. His eyes were riveted to the street. “What . . . what was it? What did we hit?”
“I don't know,” Archer said. “All I saw was a blur of white.”
Kaylie's hand appeared over the armrest and pointed. “I think it was one of those.”
Archer turned his head. Ten feet away lumbered a twelve-foot mountain of white. It was bulbous and thick, moving at impossible speed. Kaylie screamed.
Mr. Keaton turned the wheel, but the SUV didn't respond. It careened sideways into the snowman . . . and a snowman it was, but not any lovable Frosty or Olaf. This snowman wore a gaping, toothy scowl. Its branchy appendages moved as if hinged in a dozen places. A blurry green fire blazed in its eyes as the thing put its leering face right up against Archer's window.
Archer jumped back, yanking at his seat belt. He didn't think, didn't plan. He just reacted, calling up his will and unleashing a flaming fist right through the window. But the glass didn't shatter or crumble. It flash-melted, as did the snowman's face when Archer's will-infused flame struck it. The creature howled through what was left of its mouth. Its brambly hands flew up to its misshapen head . . . and knocked it right off the torso.
“Snot rockets!” Archer yelled. “Go, Dad, go!”
Mr. Keaton hit the gas and pulled away. Archer watched the snow creature; he saw a new head rise up out of its body, turn, and scream. There were others, more demented snow beings, emerging from the woods and lumbering toward the interstate.
“Better stay in the left lane, Dad,” Archer said.
“Uh . . . yeah,” Mr. Keaton replied. “Left lane. Good idea.”
Archer launched out of the SUV, cut across the front lawn, and was on the steps in a heartbeat. “C'mon, Dad! We need to get inside.”
Mr. Keaton scooped up Kaylie and loped across the yard. When they were safely inside, Archer shut the door hard and turned the lock.
“Don't,” Mr. Keaton warned. “Don't lock it. Mrs. Pitsitakas, Amy, and Buster will be here any minute.”
Archer stared at the door as if it might bite him. “Okay, right. I forgot. But only until they get here. Then we lock up like Fort Knox, okay?”
“Archer,” Mr. Keaton whispered as he lowered his daughter to stand on the foyer floor. “What . . . what is this?”
“It's the Rift, Dad,” Kaylie said, as if that fact were such an elementary concept.
Mr. Keaton hung up his jacket and scarf. “I don't know what that means,” he said. “One minute, I'm all chained up in the dark, thinking I'm having the worst nightmare of my life. Then, Kaylie and that Australian guy show up, and the skyâit just ripped apart. Next thing I know, I'm at the hospitalâbut if I've been dreaming, I still haven't woken up. Creatures in the snow? You . . . making things out of thin airâit's all impossible.”