The Fallen Prince Part 27

Kera's dream state was growing stronger. At first she could wake herself up for a moment here, a moment there. Now she struggled to remember she was dreaming. She floated from one to another, and always she searched for Dylan.

Not this dream. Unlike the others that immediately felt real, it took a moment for this dream to take shape. When it finally did, she found herself in the middle of a group of sheep huddled together in a barn stall waiting to be clipped. In the corner, Jason's wide shoulders took up too much s.p.a.ce as he sheared a sheep, leaving a crest of wool along the top of its head and down its back. He turned off the electric shears and tossed them onto the dirt floor. Sitting back, he admired his work. "Cool, huh?"

A radio played in the background, and Kera could see a house in the distance, though it didn't look familiar. "I don't understand. You're alive?"

His lips twitched. "Very much alive."

"How is that possible?"

"It's a long story, but in short...magic. You do believe in magic, don't you?"

She frowned at his sarcastic att.i.tude. Of course she did. "What are you doing here?" She'd never seen anyone she'd known in her dreams except Baun.

"Forced labor." He let the ewe go and it bounded back into the waiting group. "What are you doing here? Have you finally had enough of Dylan?"

"What do you mean?"

He grabbed another sheep. "The whole magic power trip thing."

"I don't stay with him because of that." She ran her fingers over the springy wool of the ewe in front of her. It tilted its sweet face up to her and bleated. She smiled and scratched its ear. "Even if he had none, I would love him."

"Keep telling yourself that and you might start believing it. I know chicks. A dude's got to have something special to offer or else he's going home alone."

"Dylan said you have talent."

"I wrestle. Dad's got me wired into some pretty hard-core training. It doesn't leave a lot of room for much else." He sent her a mischievous look. "But I make the time." He grinned, his smile so charming, she found herself grinning back.

The back door to his house slammed shut and he glanced out the barn doors. "s.h.i.t." He looked at all the sheep and his lips thinned. "He's coming and I'm not near done."

He pushed the sheep off his lap and grabbed Kera's arm. He led her in a circle, his eyes searching for something. "You can't be here."

It wasn't her choice to be here in the first place. "Where am I supposed to go?"

"I don't care, just not here."

"Jason!" His name shot through the barn. The man was right outside the door.

He shoved Kera into a big pile of wool and covered her. "Don't come out or we'll both get it."

He straightened just as the man entered the barn. Kera instantly knew he was Jason's father. They had the same barrel chests and thick necks. The man took a coiled leather strap off a nearby hook and entered the stall, swinging the knotted end, which b.u.mped the sheep out of his way. His hard eyes raked the poor creatures. "What the h.e.l.l have you been doing in here?" He pointed to the ewe with the odd shearing. "What kind of stupid, lame-a.s.s job is that?"

"I was just-"

"Shut up!" The man's thick neck turned red and his gaze pinned Jason to the spot. "I send you in here to do a man's job and this is what I get?"

Jason shot a quick glance Kera's way then looked down at his feet. "Maybe you should have done it," he muttered.

His dad gave a nearby sheep a vicious b.u.mp that had it bleating sadly. "What did you say?"

Jason took a step back. "Nothing."

His dad worked his way toward him. "No. I think you should tell me." He suddenly slapped the back of Jason's head, jarring it forward. "Spit it out, boy."

"Nothing."

The knot on the end of the strap zipped out and smacked Jason in the ribs. He grunted and jumped back. "Stop, Dad."

"Tell me," his father insisted and sent the hard leather knot flying. It hit the inside of Jason's left thigh.

Jason grabbed the spot and hobbled out of the way. "Dad, stop!"

"Not until you tell me." The knot whipped out again, slamming into Jason's back. He grunted.

Kera huddled deeper into the wool, horrified by the sight of Jason's dad hitting him again and again, taunting him. "Wanna be a big man? You never will. Not until you can stand up to me. But you won't, will you? You're too scared."

"I'm not scared of you," Jason gritted out even though he threw his arm over his head and flinched every time his dad got too close.

His dad grabbed Jason and twisted him into a headlock. He squeezed so hard, Jason's face turned purple. With a hard hit to the face, his dad dropped Jason to the floor and kicked dirt in his face.

Jason coughed and rubbed the dirt out of his eyes. His dad hovered over him, hands on his bent knees. "You should be scared of me. I'm bigger and better than you. Winners get the job done. If you want to be a winner, you're going to have to fight for it. Get mean. Do what others won't."

He straightened and watched his son lie beaten on the floor. He spat on him and then kicked him in the ribs. "No pain, no gain, son. Get the job done. I'll be back in an hour. That's plenty of time. If you're still not done, expect a real whipping."

Jason didn't move. Not when his dad left and not when Kera finally climbed out of the wool. She gently nudged the sheep out of her way and knelt by Jason. A circular bruise was forming along his cheek, as well as one across his collarbone. He finally turned his head and looked at her. "What are you staring at?"

She eased her arm beneath his shoulders and helped him sit with the wall supporting his back. He slowly pulled his shirt off. The damage she couldn't see before glowed angry red and purple amid older bruises dotting his body. His breath hissed in as he turned one way, then the other, calmly counting the new bruises. Kera inched her hand into his and squeezed his fingers.

When he was done, he turned to her, his eyes void of emotion. "One of these days, I'm going to show him...and everyone like him who thinks they're better than me."

"You should leave. Get away from him."

He shook his head. "Got regionals coming up. We've got a plan, and I'm going to win. I always do."

Kera didn't know what to say. Pity and fear mingled. She wanted to pull him out of there, but the edges of the dream started to cloud and before she could take her next breath, she was spinning out of Jason's dream only to land in an open field outside of Ainsbury Cross.

The transition left her gasping. Her encounter with Jason quickly faded until this new dream she was in became her reality. It was a country fair day. People milled about listening to music, dancing, and competing in contests of skill.

She was close to home, and as she moved through the crowd, she searched for someone she knew. Suddenly a bow and a quiver of arrows were slung over her back and a familiar figure stood beside her.

Baun gave her a slight bow and smiled. "You look fetching in your shooting outfit. I can see why my son is drawn to you."

Kera fidgeted with the b.u.t.tons on her woodland-green jacket. The matching full skirt and flowing white top were simple, yet the cincher she wore was far too tight. She put her hand to her waist. "Nice as they are, these clothes aren't mine. They're ridiculous. I can barely breathe."

Baun held out his hand and waited for her to take it. "Your abhorrence of fashion makes you a unique woman, yet your position in society dictates you dress the part. I suppose that is why you imagined the clothes you're wearing and not," he nods to a commonly dressed woman hawking flowers, "hers."

She placed her hand in his, and he tucked it within the crook of his arm. "I suppose you're right," she admitted.

They moved from juggler to dancer to baker to artist. It was a pleasant day. One made for smiles and lighthearted conversation. Yet her dream of Jason sat heavy at the back of her mind. He had clearly been a prisoner to his father's whims, just like she had once. Where she had broken free, Jason had been broken. "I believe I should not have to conform to others' expectations. Doing so is a lie. It betrays who I really am."

Baun purchased a sweet berry tart for her and one for himself. "Haven't you been doing that your whole life? Your father even gave you a sliver of his magic to fool everyone else. Even I didn't know."

She bit into the pie and found it the perfect combination of sweet and tart. Between licking the juice from her fingertips, she said, "It was for my protection."

"But now you are what you have always desired." He pulled out a handkerchief and presented it to her. "A true first. To be anything less...well, what is the point of living? Even your friend Jason knows that."

She slowly wiped at her lips. He knew about Jason? The thought didn't sit well with her. Exactly what was he after?

He noticed her mood shift and steered their conversation to a less worrisome topic. "I have heard of your expertise with the bow and arrow."

She wasn't quite ready to let it go. "You seem to know a lot about me. How is that possible? You are a prisoner, chained like a criminal."

He chuckled and finished his tart. "I hear much from my captors. They are inquisitive by nature, as well as murderous little cheats, but they love a good story. You have given them many over the years."

She offered back the handkerchief, but he waved it away and she tucked it into her jacket pocket. "Unlike you, I have led a normal life, not exciting enough to draw anyone's interest."

"You caught Dylan's interest, and he's far from ordinary."

"He loves me for who I am." He loved her before he even knew she was real.

"Keep in mind, you were raised in an unorthodox manner."

"Unorthodox for a first. I'm afraid in the human realm I am nothing very special."

"Nothing special?" He stopped, his body suddenly rigid, his jaw tense. "The human realm is a spectacle of ma.s.sive absurdity. One human trying to outdo another, not satisfied until they have embarra.s.sed themselves not only in front of family and friends, but the whole world. Never say you are less than they. You are ten times-" He cut his tirade short.

The people around them had all stopped what they were doing to stare, blinking like owls after a mole. He drew in a deep breath and tightened his grip on her hand. "Forgive me. I hate hearing anyone with such obvious talents denigrate themselves. Please, show me your talent in the next compet.i.tion."

Immediately, a line of archers was before her, and beyond it, a dozen targets. Baun urged her forward and she took her place. They were allotted three arrows. A man shouted for the crowd to quiet and held up his hand. Kera notched her arrow along with the other archers and pulled the string back, resting it near her cheek. When the man lowered his arm, she released the string and the arrow shot forward, landing dead center. The other archers did pa.s.sably well, but none as well as her. Polite applause sounded.

The man raised his hand again. She positioned the next arrow, and when his hand lowered, she let go. Once again her arrow shot forward. And when it hit, it spliced her first arrow in two. Ohhs and ahhs raced through the crowd. Never had Kera hit a target in the same spot, and never had she hit her own arrow.

The man raised his hand again, and when everyone was set, let it drop. This time Kera closed her eyes and let the arrow go, not worrying if the arrow would hit its mark or not. The crowd burst into thunderous applause.

Baun's whispered words entered her ear. "Thus are what dreams are made of."

She opened her eyes to see the third arrow had spliced the second one in two also. She lowered her bow and felt oddly empty.

"What is wrong? You won the golden arrow."

In her hand she held a shiny gold arrow, her name inscribed along the shaft. When had they given it to her? It was then she remembered where she was. None of this was real. She held her prize out to Baun. "Take it. The win is not a fair one."

"You won. I saw you."

"This is all a dream."

"Yes. And anything and everything is possible in a dream."

"I want reality." The word flew out on a catch, though she refused to cry in public.

Baun paused as if she were an oddity he'd never encountered. "Do you?"

"Yes." She dropped the bow and golden arrow on the ground and faced him. "It is said you have more power than anyone. Is there any way you can help me wake up?"

Her question raced into the air, shaking the calm day. Gray clouds rushed overhead and thunder cracked in the distance. The light breeze steadily grew. Baun stood against the sudden influx of weather, impervious to its attack, his attention centered solely on Kera. "It won't be easy. Nor pleasant once it's done. Do you remember the last time you were awake?"

The vision of the multi-armed boy weaving a tight coc.o.o.n around her body made her shiver. She nodded and looked away. "Yes. I remember."

People sped past, some knocking into Kera on their way to shelter. The wind rose, whipping her hair into her face. "I want to try. Will you help me?"

Thunder rolled closer and a crackle of light split the sky. Baun didn't even flinch. "What do you plan to do once you wake?"

"Just...live."

Her answer seemed to please him. "And so you shall."

As the wind ripped through the open field, Baun faced Kera and held out his hands. She slipped her fingers in his and watched as he tapped into the remainder of his power. What she felt shocked her. What little he had was more than she ever dreamed of possessing. It rushed into her, sending her out of the dream and into consciousness.

The burrow walls wept, dripping and splashing into stagnant puddles along the edges. She was bound as far as her chest now, and she wasn't alone. The boy's back was to her, and she could hear him...chewing. His arms were in constant motion, turning whatever he held up to his mouth. She didn't want to know what he was eating, afraid it would send her into a screaming fit.

She wiggled her fingers within the gooey interior of the coc.o.o.n, stretching it, sliding it inch by slow inch down her body. When it settled over her waist, she wriggled an arm free and started to do the same with the other. It was then she dared a peek at the boy. He sat frozen, his arms as still as a spider waiting for a fly.

He knew what she was doing. Without turning around, he began to sing. She tried not to listen, tried to fight the effects of his magic, but the lullaby slipped into her brain. A tear crawled down her cheek, and she called to Dylan, sending him her love one last time. Soon she stopped struggling and her eyes slowly closed as her breathing deepened.

Dreams fell all around her and she desperately grabbed for one and then another, but they slipped through her fingers time and time again. A new sort of nightmare began, one where she lived in a black void and could only watch as possibilities rushed by, tantalizingly close, but never attained.

Following.

The low murmur of half a dozen soldiers as they search the maps drones in my ears. Reece and I have been "properly" dressed in b.u.t.ton-down shirts-though without the detachable collars-lightweight jackets, finely pressed slacks, and dress shoes.

I'm sitting in a chair, my eyes closed, willing Leo back. The stress of not knowing where he's gone or when he's coming back is eating me alive. What if he's gotten into trouble? That means I'm just sitting here, when I should be doing something. The thought burns my bones in an alarming way. I have to calm down. Hadrain wouldn't be impressed if I suddenly combust and burn down his home.

I listen to the clock tick. I don't bother looking when Wyatt and Halim raise their voices. Only when Halim smacks Wyatt on the forehead and calls him a useless piece of pond sc.u.m do I crack my eyes open and watch along with everyone else as Wyatt picks the boy up by the scruff of his neck and slams him in a chair facing the wall. "Time out. A human invention for bratty little kids. Stay put and no talking until I say you can move."

Halim's out of the chair and back to bugging Wyatt in less than five minutes.

Reece uncrosses his feet and shifts his weight restlessly in the chair opposite mine. He suddenly stands. "I'm going to find Signe."

He's across the room and out the door before I can blink.

Signe had left over thirty minutes ago to change and then check on Bodog, who'd opted to return outside. Hadrain's glares even made me uncomfortable for the little guy. I still have a hard time believing he'd taken Kera when she was a child. Faldon said that Bodog had brought her straight to him, so she was never in any danger, but that he thought Hadrain wasn't fit to father her made me nervous. The little man had never been wrong before.