The War for the Waking World (33 page)

“One thing's certain,” Archer said. “We can't stay here for long.”

“We have to, Archer,” Kaylie urged. “We're the only things holding up the trees we created.”

“And it's draining us,” Archer countered.

“If we leave, the Rift will collapse back,” Kaylie said. “Uncle Scovy will get killed.”

Archer cupped her chin in his hand. “I'm sorry. You're right. We'll stay as long as we can, but you have to tell me when your will is getting too low to build a portal. Promise me?”

Kaylie nodded slowly.

Just then, a streak of violet lightning struck no more than a hundred yards away. Archer blinked. The forest floor had begun to burn where the lightning had hit. Another blast even closer made Archer and Kaylie jump.

“Archer!”

Lightning struck again. It was only fifty feet away. They felt the powerful thunder-crash vibrate through them. “It's like it's walking toward us!” he yelled. “Forget this!” He grabbed Kaylie again and leaped . . . just as a feverishly bright bolt crashed down through the treetops.

“Warning!” the computer's voice rang out. “Warning: The Harlequin Veil is shutting down. Full shutdown in fifteen seconds.”

“Frederick!” Kara yelled. “How could you let this happen? I was gone only a few minutes!”

“Me?” Frederick replied indignantly. “What? Am I supposed to be working guard duty as well as holding your hand?”

Kara was in his face in an instant. “How dare you! I'll reduce you
to smoldering ashes—” She saw something then behind Frederick's sunglasses. It was like a glint or spark of light in his eyes.

“I'm . . . I'm sorry I snapped,” Kara said, warily stepping backward. The engineers at the consoles ran from their stations.

“It's okay,” Frederick said. “We're all stressed out to the hilt here. Let's calm it way down and address the problem. I'll maintain things down here while you get the Veil up and running again.”

“No,” Kara said.

“No?”

“The Veil can be repaired in due time,” she said. “But I need to make sure. I need to stop them.”

“Who?” Frederick barked. “The Dreamtreaders? They're done already. Archer and Kaylie can't generate enough EM by themselves. By the sound of things, Doc Scoville is done. And you took care of Rigby. Right? You did finish him off this time?”

“Of course,” Kara snarled. “But I won't let you talk me into underestimating the Dreamtreaders like you did the last time. For all we know, Kaylie could have enough will to do it. We have to make sure.”

Frederick took a menacing step forward. “Don't.”

“Who do you think you are?” Kara spat. “You'll do as I say—not the other way around. I own this company.”

The voice that came from Frederick's mouth then was not Frederick. It was not human. It was a garbled, wet, hateful rumble that said, “But I own you.”

Streaks of frozen lightning ran up Kara's forearms and down her neck, but she wasn't going to let this stop her. She'd worked too hard, spent too much time, and sacrificed too much just to let it all go now. She had to be sure. She stretched out her arm and pointed at Nick, still chain-webbed into the corner by the ceiling. The chain web fell with Nick, only half-awake, in it. Kara added length to the net so it became a kind of chain-link bag. She opened a portal in the middle
of the computer consoles, used will-infused strength to grab up Nick, and stepped toward her escape.

“Don't go!” Frederick roared.

“I must!” she shouted back, one foot over the portal threshold.

“I command you!”

Kara felt something like a stranglehold around her neck. When she looked up, Frederick was gone. In his place stood Bezeal, his eyes as red as fire. “You!” she hissed. “You . . . all this . . . time.”

The invisible rope continued to tighten on her neck, but Kara put both arms around the cobalt chain bag, and then fell backward into the portal.

The portal had severed Bezeal's hold on Kara. She navigated the meandering tunnel of distance, time, and place. Her watch finally indicated the proper coordinates, and Kara descended into the forest, riding a streak of crimson lightning until she hit the ground. She found herself in a narrow clearing in the midst of the tallest trees she had ever seen. Not twenty feet away, stood Archer and Kaylie, their hands down by their sides like gunslingers.

Kara smiled wryly at the thought.
Little Kaylie with pigtails . . . a gunslinger.

“Kara?” Archer blurted. “How . . . how did you?”

“Really, Archer?” Kara quipped. “You two give off enough EM that my sensors could find you anywhere on this planet.”

“She's got Nick!” Kaylie squeaked.

“Yes,” Kara said, “I have Nick.” She lifted up the chain cage with Nick inside. She held up her free hand, and razor-sharp lances of steel grew out of her fingertips. “I have him, and I'm going to kill him unless you quench your will.”

“What?”

“Shut it down, Keaton!” Kara screamed. “Stop trying to undo everything I've worked so hard for. This is my world!”

“We can't,” Archer shouted. “Don't you see that we can't? We're Dreamtreaders, and this is our world to protect.”

“All I'm asking is that you call back your will for fifteen minutes,” Kara hissed. “That's all the time left . . . all the time I need.”

“Kara, please!” Archer shouted. “It doesn't have to go like this.”

“You've forced my hand!”

“No,” Archer said. “Someone else did.”

“What?” Kara growled.

“You know what I'm talking about,” Archer said. “Deep down, you know these plans haven't really been yours.”

Kara swayed a moment, seemed to master herself, and then said, “Of course these are my plans. I steer my own ship.”

“I'm sorry, Kara,” Archer said. “But we can't stop. We have to repair the Rift . . . we have to try.”

“Then Nick must die,” Kara said, slowly moving her sword fingers toward Nick within the chains. He was awake and wriggling like a madman, but he couldn't escape.

“No!” Kaylie cried. “Kara, you touch him, and I'll—”

“You'll what?” Kara laughed.

Kaylie tore free from Archer's grasp. Actually, she didn't tear free. She vibrated, became a blur, and then, suddenly, she stood halfway between Archer and Kara.

“I'll tell you what I'll do,” Kaylie said. “I'll use it all.”

Kara stammered, “W-what?”

Kaylie scrunched her nose and glowered. “I'll use all my will in one shot.”

Kara's eyes widened. “But you . . . you'd die.”

“So what?” Kaylie said. “So would you.”

Kara's blade-hand froze, but she remained defiant. She glared hard
at Kaylie, and, to Archer's utter amazement, Kaylie—God bless her—gave the stare right back.

Wait
, Archer thought. That itch was at the back of his mind again. This time it was telling him to think. He'd just told Kara that it didn't matter. But it
did
matter. It mattered a lot. It might even be everything.

“Kaylie, Kara, wait!” Archer yelled.

They both looked up, but Kaylie didn't take her eyes off Kara for long.

“Kara, listen to me,” Archer said. “Before this is over, I need to know . . . why? Why do you need the whole world?”

Kara half-rolled her eyes. “Really? The answer is simple, Archer. I don't need it. I
want
it.”

“That's it? You sound like a spoiled child!”

Kara laughed. “Pathetic,” she said. “You're only spoiled if others have to get everything for you. I'm taking everything I want. And what the heart wants, the heart gets.”

“It's not your heart that wants it,” Archer said.

“That's the second time you've said something like that,” Kara growled. “What do you mean?”

“You think this has been your plan all along?” Archer shouted, his eyes growing fierce. “The whole Lucid Dreaming kick, starting in middle school? You really believe you thought of that yourself?”

“What?” Kara blurted. “Of course I did.”

“The whole Nightmare Lord plan? The subterranean breaches? The Rift—you really think that was you?”

“Keep talking, Archer,” Kara muttered, glancing at her watch. “In five minutes, it won't matter.”

“It was Bezeal!” Archer yelled. “Everything. You think it was all your idea, but that's how that little maggot works. He worms his way into your head and whispers his plans. It's what he did to me. It's why
Duncan and Mesmeera died at my hand. And he's been whispering to you for a lot longer.”

“You're insane,” Kara replied. “Bezeal is a footstool—”

“That's exactly what I called him!” Archer shouted. “And guess where that suggestion came from? From him! He wants us to think he's a little nothing when he's really the puppeteer pulling all our strings.”

“Archer's right!” Nick cried out. “That's what his treatment is: whispers. I know. I just experienced it. It's terrible. It gnaws at your will, your hopes, your . . . your dreams.”

“No,” Kara said, shaking her head. “No, it's not true.”

“Think about it, Kara,” Archer said, “and think fast! Go back to the first time you had any of those ideas. Was Bezeal there?”

“I . . . no. He couldn't be. I didn't even . . . know him . . . no.”

“Kara, I visited your mom,” Archer said, his voice both urgent and gentle.

“You what?” Kara cried.

“Amy and I went to see her,” Archer went on. “I was trying to find out why you had changed. You were my friend once, but something broke, and I know what it was.”

Kara's reply was nothing more than silence.

“Your mother told us,” Archer said. “She told us after your dad left . . . that you had an imaginary friend. She told us you'd talk to this invisible person.”

“So what?” Kara spat. “Lots of kids have invisible friends. It helps when you're upset.”

“What was his name?” Archer demanded.

“What?”

“His name, Kara! What was your imaginary friend's name?”

“Bill!” she shouted. “So what? It doesn't—”

“It wasn't Bill, Kara!” Archer yelled. “It was Bezeal.”

Lightning flashed above, and its thunder sounded like a bomb detonating.

Kara dropped Nick. He hit the ground and groaned.

Archer pressed on. “Your mom confirmed it. We didn't suggest it. She told us the name of your friend, your confidant, the one you went to when you were sad or angry—his name was Bezeal. Every one of these devious ideas that entered your mind—that was him.”

Kara blinked. The blades disappeared from her fingers. “Every idea?”

“Well,” Archer muttered, “maybe not every single one, but . . . most of them. The worst ones.”

Kara began to tremble. Slowly, she fell to her knees and covered her face with her hands. But it wasn't out of a sense of defeat.

Archer gasped. He lunged for Kaylie and threw up a will shield . . . one second before Kara unleashed a deafening, banshee-like wail of agony and anger.

That wasn't all. Unseen will flashed out of Kara. Redwood trees began to topple all around the clearing. Archer could barely hold his shield in place. He then realized he wasn't. Kaylie was augmenting the shield now with her own strength.

Branches and whole trunks, driven by hurricane winds, crashed and slammed through the woods, bouncing with great cracks off Kaylie's shield. The leaves and debris made it nearly impossible to see, but slowly the storm ended. Kara looked up. Her eyes were blood-red and crackling with slender crimson sparks. “What . . . what do I need to do?” Kara asked.

FORTY-EIGHT

T
HE
N
IGHT OF
N
EVER
-E
NDING
T
EARS