Part 16 (1/2)

Like us.

”You understand now, don't you?” His words were soft in the darkness ”Shadows of alien realities are glimpsed through invisible portals. Dreams bleed over from one world to the next. Tourists with magical Gifts show up in places where those Gifts don't exist, doing things that the natives think are impossible. So the natives make up stories to explain it. They anchor their religion in places where the visions are strongest, they train their seers to listen for the echo of other worlds, they weave fictions to try to make sense of the unexplainable . . .” He paused. ”We are the legends of your world, Jessica.”

I wrapped my arms around myself, but they had no power to banish the chill that had suddenly invaded my soul. I looked away from him but couldn't banish unwanted images from my mind.

”You want to see what the Guilds are about?” he asked. ”Their summer a.s.sessment fair is going on right now. I'll take you there tomorrow, you can see them in action.”

”The Green Man may come,” I whispered. ”We have to wait for him.”

”It will take him a while to get here. If he comes at all. You have time.”

But did my brother have time? I wondered. Would the Shadows put off whatever they were going to do to him, until we showed up? Tears of frustration welled up in my eyes. It wasn't this hard in the movies. You showed up, you located the evil castle, you invaded it. Good won out over evil in the end-though a few good people might get hurt along the way-because that was the way such stories always ended. Then you got to go home. The house lights came on. Everyone lived happily ever after.

What those stories didn't tell you about was the waiting. How it bled you of strength, drop by drop. How it wound your nerves so tight that you wondered if, when the time came to act at last, you'd be able to trust your own judgment. Focus, Jessica. I drew in a deep breath. Focus.

Isaac said that dreams could cross over from one world to another. Was that what my door dreams were all about? Were they visions from another world? I remembered Miriam Seyer showing particular interest in my art. No, in my dreams. That's why she came to me, I realized suddenly. Not to buy my art. To learn about my dreams.

I chose my words very carefully, not wanting to reveal too much to someone whose primary ident.i.ty was still creepy stranger. ”You said something about dreams crossing over. Are there people who are especially sensitive to that?”

His eyes narrowed. ”There was a Gift related to dreaming, once. Centuries ago. It drove its users insane, and ultimately was judged to be so dangerous that anyone who showed signs of having it was destroyed on sight. They called them dreamwalkers.” He looked at me curiously. ”Why do you ask?”

”Just trying to make sense of it all,” I muttered. My heart was pounding in my chest so loudly I was afraid he could hear it. ”So much to absorb at once.”

”Come with me tomorrow, then. You'll understand more of how it all works once you see it with your own eyes.”

I managed to nod in a casual manner. Or tried to, anyway. ”When?”

”Early morning. There'll be a wake-up call. They try to keep the Warrens in sync with the world above. Makes foraging easier.”

I looked up at his face in the darkness. Skin pale as alabaster. Eyes black as midnight. From somewhere I managed to dredge up a fraction of a smile. ”You go out in the sunlight?”

He looked startled for a moment, then smiled broadly. ”Yeah. I go out in the sunlight. Don't tan worth a d.a.m.n, though.”

Do you sparkle? I wanted to ask him. But I wasn't sure he'd get the reference. Or consider it funny if he did.

We are the legends of your world, he'd said.

So what did that make me?

After I left him, I wandered for awhile in the dimly lit corridors. No guide, no chalk marks, no sense of self-preservation. Fortunately the larger tunnels all connected to the main chamber eventually, and I was able to use the echo of distant conversation to orient myself. But it was awhile before I was ready to rejoin human company.

All kids have a secret fear of discovering that they aren't who they're supposed to be. Maybe they were adopted, or abducted from their parents at birth, or else their dad wasn't really their dad; those are normal childhood nightmares. Everyone has them. But even the worst of those fears couldn't compare to our reality. Not only weren't our parents our parents, but the world we'd grown up in wasn't really our world.

My little brother wasn't really my brother.

I remembered what I had promised Tommy that night while he was sleeping. And suddenly the tears I had been fighting so hard to repress while I was with Isaac, started to flow, and my heart ached with a pain so vast it felt like it would swallow me whole.

You will always be my brother, I promised him silently. Always.

19.

LURAY.

VIRGINIA PRIME.

THE WOLF WALKED through the city without looking up. People who saw it coming quickly got out of the way, and a few riders pulled their horses over to the far side of the street, afraid that their mounts might panic if it came too close. One pedestrian, too preoccupied to pay attention to where he was going, almost b.u.mped into it. The wolf raised its head long enough to bare its teeth and growl, sending that person fleeing for safety. But it had no interest in pursuing human prey. It watched the man long enough to be sure that he wouldn't get in the way again, then put its nose to the ground again, striving to distinguish three specific scent trails from the thousands that clung to the street.

Everyone in Luray knew what it meant when a creature from the wild behaved like that, and they steered clear. No one wanted to tangle with a Hunter.

The scent of its quarry was fresh enough that it was still strong, and despite the hundreds of people who had walked down the same street since then, the wolf had no trouble identifying the trail of its prey. The smells of the surrounding city failed to distract it, though it looked up briefly as it neared a sausage stand and watched the owner quickly put a few links on the ground. But it did not accept the offering, and the vendor moved hurriedly out of the way as it resumed the task at hand.

The wolf paused outside a cafe, where two of its targets had lingered for awhile, then followed their trail down a side street, away from the heart of the business district. There it discovered a place where the three of them had rested on a wall, leaving behind trace scents of food, sweat, and fear.

It was there that a fourth scent trail joined them, one that the wolf knew from previous hunts. It growled low in its throat as it continued moving.

Children in the slums ran away when they saw the wolf coming.

Cats and small dogs bolted for cover.

Rats p.i.s.sed themselves in terror.

Finally it came to a narrow alley strewn with garbage, in the center of which was a manhole leading down into the city's drainage system. The wolf sniffed the cast iron lid just long enough to confirm that the fourth scent was all over it. Its three targets had come here, led by someone who had opened the manhole for them then led them down into the undercity.

Into the Warrens.

With a huff of satisfaction, the wolf set out at a loping pace to rejoin its human handler.

20.

LURAY.

VIRGINIA PRIME.