Chapter 10: Cizruviel

And then Lya collapsed – it could have been from the stress, exhaustion, shock, or something else entirely. A lot had just happened in a very short time.
Osette darted to catch her before she hit the ground, and gently lowered her down. “Lya!” she said, her voice full of worry, “what's going on?”
Lya's eyes fluttered and her voice, when she spoke, came out in a whisper. “The spell circle...”
Icelus, standing with Marc and Remont, seemed to calm down at this. She craned her neck to look. “Did... did she use herself as the energy source for that spell?”
“Must have,” said Remont.
Lya hacked and coughed. “That took more than I thought...”
“No!” Osette shouted.
Icelus and Remont slowly made their way over to take a look at Lya. Marc followed behind, feeling more and more like he was intruding. “Is she going to be okay?” he asked.
“I don't know,” said Lya, “there's not a lot left in me.”
Osette began to sob – ugly, wracking cries. “No,” she said, “you can't, don't go, no...”
Marc leaned over to Icelus, who at the very least didn't look like she was going to attack Lya anymore. “Can nightmares die?” he whispered.
Icelus shook her head noncommittally. “Maybe they can, now the Nexus is gone.”
“Why did she collapse?”
“Nightmares sustain themselves on psychic energy,” she said. “And spell circles drain that. She was using up her life force to get us out of danger.”
“B-but I have lots of that now, don't I?” Marc looked at his hands. They didn't look any different to him. No more powerful and no more capable of healing. “Can't I transfer it? Use a spell?”
“There isn't a spell to transfer energy,” said Icelus. “Lya won't survive this unless we find another crystal, and it doesn't look like there's anything for miles.”
Remont suddenly snapped his fingers. “I've got it!” He took off the pack that he had been wearing and dug around in it. “I took these out of the vault before we left.” He pulled out three small, purple crystals, just like the one that he had given to Icelus earlier to open the portal.
Icelus leaped up. “That's great! That will work!”
Lya had heard the conversation and meekly spoke up. “Remont... are you going to...?”
“Of course,” Remont said, and pressed the crystals into her hand.
“But...” Lya looked away, “I lied to you...”
“Yes, you did,” Remont replied, “but you're never going to get to explain yourself if you're dead.” He crossed his arms and motioned to her to go ahead.
So she balled her hand into a fist and crushed the crystals, and a bit of energy escaped them and floated, swirling, in the air above her, next to Osette's tear-stained face. Then it spread out, and covered Lya, and as it dissolved and disappeared she began to breathe easier.

Icelus had told Marc that nightmares didn't “dream,” not really, but it sure seemed like Lya was asleep. They had to wait for her to wake up, and until then they were stuck – possibly miles from where the Wanderlust had crashed, which was where all their supplies had been.
Instead they tried to work out where they were. This was a lot easier with Osette, who was still a geographic whiz and could identify landmarks and mountains even when they were on the horizon. She was confident they were around thirty or forty miles north of Zamasea, which meant a difficult but doable walk back to the Bairdsley mansion. Osette seemed to be grateful for the distraction – when Remont tried to talk to her about Lya, she seemed to shut down.
But when Lya came to it was Osette who noticed first. She ran over in a hurry and cradled Lya's head gently and made sure she felt okay before anyone else could even talk to her. And they definitely had questions for Lya.
“Why didn't you tell us you were a nightmare?” Remont asked.
“Because you might not have believed me,” she said, “and if you believed me then you wouldn't have trusted me.”
“We trust you!” Remont protested.
“Now you do. I know how people are about nightmares. I didn't want to draw that kind of reaction.”
“Okay. But when we met you, you had just gotten into town. Were you trying to blend in? What were you up to?”
Lya didn't answer this. Her face was set and her mind was racing. “I can't tell you,” she said.
Marc and Icelus eyed each other. She couldn't tell them? “Why?” Marc asked.
“I just can't.”
“Lya,” said Osette, sweetly enough but with a vein of steel in her voice that none of them had ever heard before. “Please tell us.”
Tears in her eyes forming, Lya shook her head.
Osette began to cry now, too. “I love you,” she said, “please don't keep lying to me.”
And that did it – Lya's face softened and her features dropped. She gave a deep sigh and admitted it softly. “I was ordered to.”
“By who?” Remont hadn't moved or reacted to any of this. “Who would've ordered you to do this?”
She hesitated for a second before answering: “Cizruviel, my... my hometown.”
The name was familiar to Marc – that was where Icelus had wanted to go to find Solon. He looked over, and found her deep in thought.
“Your hometown ordered you to do it?” Remont was puzzled.
“The elders – the ones in charge.”
“Why did they order you to mingle with humans?”
Lya bit her bottom lip. “I can't tell you. I've said way too much already.”
Remont didn't press her for more information this time. Instead he motioned for everyone to gather together and talk. Lya wouldn't be going anywhere – she was still weak.
“I know this is a lot to take in,” said Remont, “but the first thing we need to decide is: do we still want her around?” He glanced back to make sure Lya couldn't hear. “I can't say I trust her anymore. Not like I did before, at least.”
“It depends on whether she still wants to help us with the Nexus,” replied Icelus. “We cannot entirely trust someone who's lied to us like this... but she still might want to help. And I think I know a way she could.”
Remont nodded. “Osette,” he said to her, “what do you think? I know this can't be easy for you.”
Osette nervously bit her finger. “I don't know,” she said, louder than she should have – probably loud enough for Lya to hear. “I don't know. Why did she lie to me?”
“She lied to all of us, Osette.”
“But I'm more special to her!” she shouted, forgetting about the unspoken mandate to keep their voices down. “Why did she lie to me?”
They all awkwardly turned to Lya, still sitting on the ground where they had left her, a pained and deeply regretful expression on her face.
“Osette,” said Remont. “We want Lya to stay with us. Is that okay with you?”
Osette nade a “hmph” noise and then said, “Yes. I want her to stay with us.”
“Okay.” Remont nodded at Icelus. “What's the plan?”
In lie of an answer, Icelus turned and approached Lya. “You're from Cizruviel?”
Lya obviously didn't know where this was going. “Yes.”
“Is it safe to go there?”
“No. Definitely not,” said Lya.
“Why not?”
“They don't trust anyone who's not a nightmare. Cizruviel is a town of weak nightmares. They banded together to form a community – to protect themselves from stronger nightmares and humans alike.”
“What about you? Could you go there?”
Lya scratched her head. “I could. Probably. But I'm not going back.”
“Yes,” insisted Icelus, “you are. We are going to see Solon and we are going to get him to help us.”
“No, I won't,” said Lya.
Icelus narrowed her eyes and raised her voice. “Then we will leave you. This is the price of continuing with us. Do you want to stay with the life you love? With the woman you love?” Her tone was as cold as ice. “Then you help us. No exceptions. That's the only we can trust you again.”
And she left Lya there to stew.
“Damn, Icelus,” said Marc when she got back to the rest of the group, “that was scary.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I've been told I can be scary sometimes.”

Lya, of course, eventually agreed to take them to Cizruviel. According to her, they would have to pretend to be nightmares – otherwise they'd get attacked as soon as they went in. This would pose a problem when they got there.
More immediate was the problem of finding it in the first place.
“A map would be useful,” said Marc offhandedly.
“Oh,” said Osette, “you mean... one like this?!” She dug in her pockets and whipped out a small map of the region.
Marc was flabbergasted. “You just have maps in your pockets?”
“If anyone has maps in their pockets, it's Osette,” said Remont. “We basically had to beg her to leave behind all her other maps once we got out of the Wanderlust.”
“One of these days, we need to go back where the crash was and get all our stuff,” said Osette.
But for now, it was just a matter of Icelus throwing out some half-remembered geographical features and putting her head together with Osette to find out where it was located. They eventually narrowed it down to about twelve miles from where they were. It wasn't even a day's walk. They headed off immediately.
After about a mile or two of walking, they began to see Cizruviel – it was hard to miss, a very large and very old spire that dominated the landscape its sheer and obvious artificiality. As they drew closer, they saw a makeshift small town of tents and wooden huts gathered around its. There were people living here.
Lya stopped them before they got too close. “Okay,” she said, “I'll take you in there, but you have to not draw attention. Make up names. But pretend you're nightmares, and don't make a fuss when they talk about my orders. It'll look more suspicious if you start asking questions.”
“How convenient for you,” said Remont.
She shot him an irritated look and continued. “You all also have to pretend to be weak nightmares looking for shelter... so, uh, pretend you're out of breath all the time, or that you can't lift heavy things.”
“Will they believe Icelus is a nightmare?” asked Marc.
“Of course. Lots of nightmares aren't humanoids, remember? I know between me and Piper you might start to think that... actually, wait!” She pointed to Icelus. “You wanted to see Solon?”
“Yes.”
“It might be better if you tell the truth about who you are, Icelus. Not everyone gets to visit Solon. He's a bit of a hermit. But he would open his doors to you. I'm sure of it.”
Icelus nodded in response. “That's good. You all are a band of weak nightmares headed to Cizruviel to find shelter and I joined up with you after I escaped from Agremonth.”
“Is that good with everybody?” Lya asked the group.
It was. Now it was time to finish the journey.
The townspeople – Marc figured that was the word to use, even though a good half of them weren't “people” - saw the group entering the town and expressed a mixture of concern and worry. Sometimes they would reach out to Marc or Osette and ask if they needed help, convinced by their shows of fragility. They had to decline, but Marc was still surprised by their consideration. Though he was also disoriented from being offered help by a giant snail.
“These are very kind people,” said Marc.
“They're vulnerable,” said Icelus. “Vulnerability tends to make people kind. Not everyone... but most people.”
It was true; for every offer of help from an able-bodied stranger, there were offers of shelter from fragile old women who leaned on canes and young children who were unnaturally bony. Lya insisted that they had somewhere to be. A lot of people were coming out to see them – it was only a matter of time before someone recognized her.
“Lya!”
It was a walking, talking mannequin – he showed no emotion in his static features but the surprise and concern in his voice was real, and he ran over to greet Lya with palpable relief.
“You're back! It's been years.”
“Auten!” she said. “It's good to see you. Are you okay? Everyone seems... more ragged, now.”
The mannequin, Auten, shook his head. “It's the Nexus. You must have heard about that?”
“Oh,” she said quietly. “That's right. You all must have been hit so badly. I'm sorry I wasn't here.”
“It's bad now,” said Auten. “Some of us have even died. We're all still adjusting. But hey!” he said, brightening up a bit, “you're back! We never heard from you after you left. Did it work? Did you find R-”
“No,” Lya said it suddenly and loudly, cutting Auten off. “Or... I did, but... I'm sorry, I don't want to talk about it. Not now. I wasted too much trying to make it work. Listen,” she gestured to Icelus, “you won't believe who I've met.”
Icelus padded forward unsurely. “Me?”
“Yes,” said Lya. “And all these others, too – Garron, Malaya, and Jamen,” she pointed to Remont, Osette, and Marc in succession, “but it's urgent business. This is Icelus,” she told Auten in a hushed tone.
Auten looked at Icelus and jumped in surprise – his face was expressionless as always, but he was plenty expressive with his body language. “Icelus?!” he said. “The guardian of the Nexus...”
Icelus nodded. “It's good to meet you. I'm here because I need to speak with Solon.”
“Solon? He... doesn't really take many visitors anymore.”
“He'll take me,” said Icelus, “we need to talk. If anyone knows how to restore the Nexus, it's him.”
“To restore the Nexus...” Auten considered it. “But if he knew how to do that, wouldn't he have done it himself?”
“That's not his way,” replied Icelus. “Solon is an advisor, and a sage, but not a warrior and not a mover. I'm sure he wants the Nexus restored, too, but that's not his role. He needs someone to act for him.”
“I see,” said Auten. “If we restored the Nexus... well, it wouldn't solve all our problems, but at least it would get us back to where we were before, and that would be a huge help. If only your plan had worked, Lya. You really have to tell me how it went some time.”
“I know,” said Lya, obviously still cagey about it and not wanting any of the group to hear any stray pieces of information, “but this is what we can do for now. Auten, will you show us to Solon?”
Auten nodded. “I can do that. It's good to have you back, Lya.”
The spire lay in the center of the town, which looked to have grown out around it, and only had one stone door as an entrance. As they all drew closer, Auten pounded on it three times and loudly spoke: “Solon! You have a visitor!”
There was no response. The group looked at each other warily.
Auten pounded the door once more. “It's Icelus! She needs your help!”
Another, shorter silence followed, and then the door slid open. Nobody was behind it, but Auten waved Icelus in. He held out a hand to stop the rest of them, though. “Solon is particular about who visits him. This is not your concern.”
“I was the one who led Icelus here,” Lya objected.
“I'm sorry, Lya. Icelus can tell you what she has learned, but the more people who come in, the more dangerous it is for Solon. He has knowledge of a great many things,” said Auten darkly, “and that makes him a target.”
How could they maintain their cover while still seeing Solon? Marc bit his lip. He needed to know what to do with his psychic energy. Could Icelus tell Solon what had happened? But then what if Icelus told the whole truth and Solon decided to tell the townspeople that they weren't really nightmares?
“I insist that they come in,” said Icelus. “These are good nightmares who wish to help me restore the Nexus. The advice I need from Solon is sorely important to them as well.”
Auten tilted his head to indicate confusion. “Is this true, Lya? Is that your goal?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“You shouldn't have taken on a new mission before letting us know,” said Auten. “We were worried about you.”
“I'm sorry, Auten. I might have to leave again, too. Please tell the elders what happened to me if I do. But I am going with Icelus.”
He said nothing and did nothing to indicate his reaction, which was unnerving coming from a mannequin. Instead he turned to Icelus. She took a step into the inside of the spire and shouted, “Solon! I have four friends with me. They must hear what you have to say. I trust them.”
A long pause.
“Very well,” came a strange voice from on high, “send them in.”
Auten nodded and allowed them to pass. Once the four of them were through the door, it slid closed again and they were briefly engulfed in darkness.
But then the lights came on – dozens of torches placed on all the walls that reached up to the very top of the spire and lit the alcoves in the walls. It was only then that Marc saw what was in the alcoves – hundreds and hundreds of books, ancient and leather-bound. They weren't arranged in some sort of order, but instead according to their color, so that a whole shelf was full of reds that gradually grew lighter and turned into pinks and then faded back into yellows.
And flying down to meet them was Solon – a huge owl who came up to Marc's chest. He landed in front of Icelus and reached out to stroke her with his wing. “Icelus!” he said in his almost-cartoonish voice, “It's so nice to see you again!”
“Don't pet me, Solon,” said Icelus. “You know I don't like it.”
“Well,” he replied, “in that case... I suppose I could refuse to help you and your friends – most of them are definitely not nightmares, by the way! Don't get me wrong, I'm sure you're all lovely people,” he waved a claw in their direction reassuringly, “but the elders would have a field day if they knew some humans were in their city. You're lucky that door is closed.”
“You wouldn't.”
“Hmm...” he flapped his wings and lifted off to do a circle of the room. “You're right, I wouldn't!” He landed in front of the four of them and looked them up and down. “Strapping young fellows you've found here. Yes. I'm sure they will be an asset in restoring the Nexus. Oh, and you!” He cast his enormous black eyes on Marc. “You're a human, but you're full of magic! How is that?”
“He absorbed energy from one of the crystals. That's how nightmares get their energy now,” Icelus explained, “now that the Nexus is destroyed.”
“And how did that happen?”
“A nightmare named Piper was able to create a popular story in the human world, and he put my sigil in it.”
For the first time since they had seen him, Solon was still. The news had shocked him. He turned his head all the way around to look at Icelus. “You're sure it was Piper?”
“Why?” Icelus stood up. “Do you know him?”
Solon deeply sighed. “Oh, Icelus. You must forgive me. I was weak. This... was all my fault.”
“What?” She walked up to him. “How is it your fault?”
Without warning, Solon took off again and perched in an alcove. “Oh, Icelus,” he said. “This Piper visited me many, many years ago. He used violence. I am not a fighter, Icelus, you know that. I could not escape... and so I told him what he wanted to know.”
“Solon, what did you tell him?” Icelus shouted up at him.
“I showed him your sigil,” he said softly. “He must have used it to enact this plan. To destroy the Nexus. Oh, Icelus. I'm so ashamed...”
Icelus said nothing. Nobody really knew how she was going to react. Marc was about to reach out to her when she finally yelled, “Damn him!”
She looked up at Solon. “Solon, this is not your fault. This is all Piper's doing. He hurt you, and he hurt me. His beliefs are twisted and he's about to hurt many more.”
Solon had hidden when Icelus had shouted, and now poked his head out of the alcove. “You do not blame me?”
“I do not,” she said. “But we do need your help to fix this.”
At that, Solon swooped down and landed happily in front of her. “Help shall be rendered! I know exactly what you need to do to restore the Nexus!”
“What?!” said everyone at the same time. Icelus was the one who followed up on it. “How?”
“I will tell you. You!” Solon pointed at Marc. “You are from the other world. Have you ever been able to do mysterious and unexplainable things while over here in Oniron?”
“Uh,” Marc stuttered, “I don't know.”
“You must think, boy!” Solon urged. “Anything at all.”
Marc winced and looked to Remont, Lya and Osette for help – but just seeing them jogged his memory.
“I think maybe I have something,” he said.
“Good! Good! What is it?”
“Well,” Marc scratched his head trying to figure out how to explain, “we were in a... crash recently. It should have killed us, but it... didn't. I kind of... woke up, and my head was swimming, and then I saw them, but then I started to see more clearly and it was like the world... snapped into place?”
Solon nodded – strange to see an owl do, but the gesture was unmistakable. “Yes, yes! This is the kind of thing I'm talking about. Let me ask you a question. This is very common – have you ever found yourself mysteriously in a different place while over here? Like a teleportation has occurred?”
“Um...”
“Marc!” Icelus said. “You did it while we were in Agremonth. Remember?”
She was right. “Yeah!” he said. “I didn't think about it then, but...”
Solon was nodding more furiously now. “Humans dream of Oniron and it changes Oniron. This is how it has always been. All the dreams of humans take place in Oniron. You know, it has been observed by many humans that stories and dreams are alike.”
“How so?” asked Remont.
“I'm glad you asked! Because I was trying to set someone up to ask anyway,” Solon winked. “In stories, you skip the boring parts! You shift the focus onto the important things. That is what humans do in their dreams – skip around, only focus on one thing at a time. And when they do it in dreams, it follows that they can sometimes find themselves doing it in Oniron as well.”
“Wait, Solon,” Icelus interrupted him. “You're talking as if humans have been to Oniron before. Have they?”
“Well, no,” said Solon, “but it's a theory I've had. Thank you for confirming it!”
Icelus shook her head. “What does that have to do with restoring the Nexus?”
“I was just about to get to that! Rude,” Solon ruffled his feathers, “Just as Marc here gained the ability to make things real in Oniron by way of his dreams, so too can we make the Nexus real again.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that if humans dreamed about the Nexus, it would restore itself,” Solon said.
“Of course,” Icelus mused, “but... now that the Nexus is gone, humans can't dream anymoer”
“Wait, what?” asked Marc.
“That's what must have happened,” said Solon, “You, Marc, have you been in the human world since the Nexus was destroyed?”
“Um, yeah,” he said, “a couple of days. Why?”
“Did you ever dream during that time?”
Marc struggled to recall. “I... don't know. I can't remember.”
Solon nodded. “I expect that nobody has, for the last few days. Possibly your world hasn't realized what an epidemic it has on its hands. It will, soon, unless we restore the Nexus.”
“But if humans can't dream,” said Marc, “then how are we going to get them to dream about the Nexus?”
Solon flapped his wings and flew over to an alcove that was two stories up from them. He scanned the book titles. “If I'm not mistaken,” he said, “you'd have to send a memory of the Nexus to the human world. It would then disperse into the heads of every human. But it would require a lot of psychic energy.”
“Well, we have a lot of psychic energy,” said Remont, patting Marc on the back, “but a bridge? I don't know. The Nexus was the only bridge between the worlds.”
“I wouldn't speak so soon!” Solon poked his head out and flew back down. “There is one other. And I believe you all know it. Especially you, Icelus,” he turned to her, “the last time it opened, you were banished.”
Icelus gasped. “The Adjoining Festival!”
Solon nodded.
“Marc,” said Icelus, “ if we can't transfer that psychic energy, it has to be you. You have to send a memory of the Nexus through the portal during the Adjoining Festival.”
“Wait just one minute,” said Osette. “Isn't the Adjoining Festival tomorrow?”
Remont stomped his foot. “Dammit, that's right!”
Tomorrow? How could they possibly pull everything together by tomorrow? They were miles from Zamasea, they would need to go to the city and hope they weren't discovered – which would be difficult, since Piper was the Chief – and send a memory through a portal that everybody would be watching at the same time.
Plus...
“Icelus,” said Marc, “I don't have a memory of the Nexus.”
She stopped cold. “What?”
Marc gave a slow, painful shrug. “I've never seen it.”
“But you were there when we went to Agremonth!”
“There was a glowing wall in the way... I never got a good look at it.”
“Marc,” Icelus said with a grave tone, “nobody else can do this. Are you sure you've never seen the Nexus? This is important.”
“I know it's important. And I haven't,” he said. “Not ever.”
Icelus looked like she was about to scream. That would have been the worst thing for Marc. But she held it in. The six of them stood in silence, stewing.
“I think you probably have, Marc,” said Solon.
“...Why?” replied Marc.
“Because you're connected with Icelus,” he said. “I can feel it. You've dreamed of her. Some essence of her power must have made an imprint on your subconscious. Why, I'd say you could even enhance her magic!”
“I can,” said Marc. “We've done it before!”
“Oh, splendid!” exclaimed Solon. “Then I think it is very likely that you've dreamed of the Nexus sometime before!”
“I don't remember ever doing that.”
“You wouldn't,” said Solon. “Who can really remember dreams? This may have been years ago. But if you could... oh.” The last word was the sound of a sudden and terrible realization. Marc was afraid to ask.
“Oh, what?”
“Let me think,” said Solon, and he hopped around in circles on the floor, going “hrm” and “hum” and sounding very concerned. He finally turned back to Marc. “No. There is no other option.”
“What is it?”
“Marc – there is a spell I can perform that would give you perfect memory. It is called the Catharsis Ritual. If you have ever seen the Nexus in a dream, the Ritual would allow you to remember it.”
“That sounds like it would solve all our problems!” Marc said. “So... what's the catch?”
“It's... it's not a matter of feasibility. I could do it. But,” Solon took a deep sigh, “if you were to undergo this ritual, it would change what you are. You would become a being who could possess and channel psychic energy, with perfect memory. I would essentially... be turning you into a nightmare.”
Marc stood, stunned, at this news. He had a brief thought of what it would be like to return home and explain to his mom and dad how he sustained himself off the dreams of humans now. He thought how bizarre it would be to remember everything that he had ever experienced. He wondered if the Catharsis Ritual would hurt. What would happen if he didn't do this? Was there an alternative? Could he possibly become a nightmare?
He looked at his friends, hoping to find some guidance. But Icelus and Remont and Osette were just waiting expectantly – hinging on his reaction, knowing that if he said yes they might just have a chance.
And then there was Lya. She looked distraught – and Marc thought he knew why. She was wondering if he hated nightmares so much that he would never consider being one.
Did he hate nightmares? Did he hate Lya?
Marc turned to Solon. “I'll do it. Whatever it takes, I'll do it.”


Next

Chapter 9: The Spell Circle

Marc's vision swam – looking back, it was probably this fact that saved them all, but he couldn't have known that yet. All he saw was a blurry, vague mess, like the out-of-focus background in a movie. A large fleshy tube appeared out of the side of his vision... his arm. It was his arm. Why was it red, then?
Is that blood? He thought distantly. Please don't let it be blood, bleeding is bad for me...
He pushed himself up and tried to look around, but nothing was clear yet. He must have hit his head – did he have a concussion?
Where were the others? Marc took a lumbering, difficult step forward. The floor was tilted. A memory of the crash wormed its way back into his head – it could have been worse, he could have been thrown upside down.
There were four other bodies near the front of the ship. He still couldn't see them clearly, but who else would it be? Three peach-colored human bodies and one pink dog body.
When he realized what must have happened, it was like an icy hand gripped Marc's heart. This can't be. That can't be them and this can't be happening and I can't be bleeding -
Marc closed his eyes, trying to summon up the strength to continue, to look at what was before him.
When he opened them, his head had settled down and his vision was clearer. He looked at where everyone else was piled.
They were breathing!
Marc rushed over to check he wasn't just making this up – but no, everyone was breathing. Remont and Lya and Osette and Icelus; they were all knocked out. They might feel it when they woke up. But they were breathing.
In fact, they seemed to be just fine. There weren't any visible scars or bruises or anything, not like him, what with his bleeding...
He took a look at his arm. It felt... less sticky than he expected? Marc turned away from the rest of the group. Against all odds, they were safe for the time being. He looked for the source of his bleeding.
Nope. No cuts or bruises there, either. No broken bones. It smelled funny, though. Not at all like the rusty copper smell of blood.
Experimentally, he licked his arm. This was a bad idea, of course, but he had just been hit on the head. What he tasted was some weird, rich flavor that he couldn't place for a minute, because it was the last thing he expected.
It was red wine.
What the hell?
Marc's relief at the group being alive and unharmed was almost immediately consumed by his total confusion about what had just happened. Better to be covered in wine than blood, really, but how did that even happen?
He took a look around the room. The whole thing was tipping forward, and the cockpit had been totally squashed. Maybe it was just that well-reinforced; maybe that was what had saved them. It didn't explain the total lack of injuries, or the red wine, but it might have been why they were alive. Either way, there were no windows in the passenger area so he couldn't see where they were. The only way out was the door near the back, next to the engine room.
It was a two-yard drop down once Marc opened the door. The others could easily make it when they woke up.
The Wanderlust, he saw, was unsalvageable. The whole front was smashed to pieces and the envelope had holes torn in it. Marc spent some time looking out for shadow dogs, but he saw none. Maybe they had all died in the crash?
There was no immediate danger, at least. So he turned his attention to the crystal formation.
Here, on the ground, it looked even larger. Marc had been to the Capitol Building in Washington, D.C. once before and a landmark of that size was about the only thing he could compare it to.
There was an entrance here. Marc cast a glance backward at the Wanderlus. He hoped that everyone would be okay while he was away, but he had to see this. Whatever was here, it was valuable.
Marc walked through a little arcing entrance into the crystal formation.
As it turned out, the whole thing was hollow. The entire enormous space was totally empty, acres and acres of it. The sparkling and luminous ceiling was just grand, like nothing he'd ever seen before. And nothing was here.
Except for one little thing in the middle. Marc could barely make it out, but it looked like... a pedestal of some sort? He started the trek toward it, which took a good ten minutes.
It was a small spire of some sort. The top of it was about even with his head. On the spire was... a crystal. It was purple, like everything else here. What was this? Some sort of root?
Marc reached his hand out and gingerly brushed the crystal, but when he finished he couldn't remove his hand from it. It wasn't sticky, it just... wouldn't let him go. He tugged and tugged his hand, but nothing happened.
Then a roar came from all around him, but not from a single source – it was as if the cave itself was screaming. Marc tried even harder to pull himself off, but to no avail.
And then something came rushing into him, from the crystal to his fingertips, a strange, warm liquid energy that he had never felt anything like in his life. It didn't stop – it just kept coming, and coming, and he didn't know if he could handle all of this, he felt full and overwhelmed...
Just like that, the energy flow stopped, and his hand left the crystal, and he flopped to the ground, heaving.
What?
Seriously, what?

“He's here!”
The call came echoing across the cavern – it was Icelus's voice. Marc turned to see his four friends, all of them fine, bounding toward him.
“Marc! Thank god you're safe!” Icelus nearly tackled him in her enthusiasm.
“H-hey, you too,” he said abashedly.
“I just can't believe we're all okay!” said Osette, stretching her limbs.
“Are you bleeding?” Remont asked, pointing to Marc's arm.
By now the wine was mostly dry and had left his arm sticky and discolored. He raised it. “It's not blood, see? Did you have any wine on board? It must have gotten on me.”
Remont looked down his nose at Marc. “What's wine?”
“Um... I guess you didn't have it on board then.”
Still obviously perplexed, Remont shook his head. “I guess so.”
“What happened here?!” Lya shouted.
She was looking at the small spire, no longer radiating as it had before. “It looks... drained,” she said, not making a move to touch it.
“It... did something weird,” Marc said. “When I touched it, my hand stuck to it, and then... it felt like some sort of energy passed into me?”
This stopped everyone stone cold (except for Osette, who, oblivious, continued to stretch and jog in place). Marc couldn't even fathom the looks on their faces. “What?” he asked.
“Marc,” said Remont, “I think you must have absorbed the psychic energy that was stored in this place.”
Marc stumbled back. “What?! I didn't even know I could do that!”
“I didn't know, either,” said Icelus, “but apparently you can.”
“How?!”
“I don't know,” she replied patiently, “Humans have never been in Oniron before. We don't actually know what they can or can't do.”
He put his hand to his head – he felt a headache coming on, which probably meant that he was trying to make sense of the rules. “So... what happens to me?”
“I'm not sure,” said Icelus. “But I can guess.”
“Anything.”
“You have untapped psychic power now, but you may not be able to use it at all. I don't know if humans can cast spells – nightmares can, because their minds are uncluttered with dreams, so they have perfect memories.”
“They do?” Marc hadn't known that.
“They do,” said Lya. “For the animalistic ones – that's most of them – it doesn't matter. Nightmares with human intelligence are more dangerous. They need to use spell circles to channel their magic, and spell circles are complex, but if you have perfect memory then that doesn't matter.”
“What about you, Icelus?” Marc asked. “Do you have perfect memory?”
She shook her head. “I'm not a human or a nightmare – I can use whatever psychic energy I have without a spell circle.”
“So what you're saying is,” said Marc, “I don't have a photographic memory, so I can't use any of the energy I just absorbed?”
Remont, Icelus and Lya shook their heads, one by one.
“Damn it!” Marc shouted. It reverberated across the huge cavern. “I shouldn't have touched it! This whole trip was a waste!”
“Now don't say that,” said a voice from behind them, “it helped me find you all here.”
They all turned to face the source, and found themselves staring at their foe.
“Piper!” shouted Icelus. She growled – and he simply smirked in response, knowing how powerless she was right now.
“Icelus, wait,” said Remont, “that's Chief Decan. He's the chief of Zamasea.”
“That's Piper,” said Icelus coldly. “I'd know him anywhere.”
“Remont,” said Marc, “that's definitely Piper.”
“I guess the jig is up,” said Piper. “It's true. I'm a nightmare. Sorry you had to find out this way, Remont – right before I have to kill you all.”
“What do you mean?” Lya shouted.
“Simply that you're all unarmed,” he said, “and I'm not.”
He snapped his fingers and in a second, out of every crevasse and crack in the crystal, emerged a horde of shadow dogs. There were probably a hundred of them – they grouped together like some angry viral infection and surrounded the five of them.
“Piper!” shouted Icelus. “How can you control these other nightmares?”
Piper made a motion with his hand and they all stopped. The five of them were surrounded and weaponless. There was no way they could fend off so many attacking dogs.
“If I had to venture a guess,” he said, “it's because I created them.”
“Artificial nightmares?” Lya asked.
Piper shook his head. “No, no. When I tried to destroy the Nexus the first time, my spell allowed me to siphon off some of its power in the form of crystals. Much like the one we're in right now,” he gestured to the cavern around them, “but not quite as potent. They let me walk into the human world, and over there I planted the idea of a shadowy, nightmarish dog into the mind of a writer. It was a gambit to try to defeat Icelus, of course.”
Marc felt like he knew this. Was he talking about Reid Marshall right now?
“But this writer was... unstable. His book failed miserably, made his debts even steeper. He began to have nightmares himself, with the shadow dogs the symbol of his failure. So of course,” he continued, “they showed up in Oniron. And because they passed from me to him and back to me, I think there must be some connection.” Piper chuckled. “Normally they're weak, because the man killed himself later. The nightmares of a single dead man don't have much power, after all. But recently, they've been stronger than ever. I don't know what's changed!”
Remont spoke up – maybe he thought if he could keep Piper talking, they could find a way out. “So how did you destroy the Nexus?”
Piper knew the stalling game that Remont was playing, but fortunately for them he wanted to indulge them. “I had to start my plan over,” he said. “Lucky for me, the writer of that original book was a friend of another writer – a much more popular one. Someone who could put out his own books. So I just gave him the idea, and it caught on in the human world. It became incredibly popular. It was easy to sneak a sigil in there,” he said offhandedly. “And the humans never even know what they did. Do you know why I took the name Piper?”
Uneasy silence. “Why?” asked Icelus.
“There's a story in the human world – the Pied Piper of Hamelin. He was a folk tale – someone who stole children away in the middle of the night by playing them a song. That's what I did. But this was so much more brilliant. I simply used the fixations of young people to get what I wanted, and they weren't even aware of it. They never thought – maybe there's an undertone to this I'm not getting.”
“Everyone,” whispered Lya while Piper was making his speech, “I have an idea.”
Marc jumped a bit in surprise. “What is it?”
“Just take a step directly back when I say so.”
Ahead of them, Piper looked done with the talking. “Anything else I can ease your minds over? Since you've all just been fumbling around in the dark this whole time?”
Icelus growled.
“No,” Piper held out his hand. “I suppose we're through then.”
“You shouldn't have talked so much!” Lya shouted. “Now!”
Marc stepped back, and looked at his feet.
Lya had drawn a spell circle there.
Now she crouched and hit the ground, and the runes lit up, and they were surrounded by a bright white light, all of their sight and sense was compressed into a single blip...

They all hit the ground roughly, sprawled out. They weren't in the cave any more; it was a flat field, and it looked like miles from where they had been.
“What was that?!” Remont said.
Marc heard a familiar sound: barking. He looked over at Icelus, who was crouched and snarling at Lya.
“Hey!” shouted Marc. “What's wrong?”
Lya was backed up, nervous, and Osette hid behind her.
“That was a spell circle!” said Icelus.
Remont gasped and his eyes shot to Lya. Marc shook his head in confusion. “Wait... but doesn't that mean...”
“It does,” said Icelus. She looked Lya straight in the eye. “She's a nightmare.”


Next

Chapter 8: The Wanderlust

Curt Dreithart had to sign in at the Chief's office before he made the trip up to Agremonth. It was the early hours of the morning now; Curt usually took the night shifts guarding the castle, because he didn't have anywhere else to be. He'd only moved into his own house a few months ago, and he wasn't living with anybody. Waking up at dark o'clock had been a difficult transition for him to make, but that whole stage appeared to be over – he woke up and got out of bed quickly, had two cups of canephor to help wake him up, and was out the door feeling pretty spry. It had rained the other night and the town of Zamasea was humid and hot, but it was still dark, so it was bearable.
He was surprised to see that Chief Decan was actually in his office today. “Early morning, Chief?” asked Curt.
Decan sighed. “Late night, actually. I have to handle all the Icelus business, on top of the festival.”
“What's the problem there?”
“There's just not enough people volunteering to do security this time around,” sighed Decan. “I've had to pick up a few shifts at Agremonth myself. I tell you what, Curt, if there were more people who jumped up to help like you, we'd be better off.”
Curt sheepishly smiled. “I just do what I can, sir.” He crossed the room to the sign-in board and his eyes followed down to the bottom. He almost leaped back in shock when he saw whose shift he was going to be taking over. “Bairdsley?” Curt turned to the Chief. “Since when does Bairdsley help out with anything?”
Decan shrugged. “Once word got out that we'd caught Icelus, we had a couple new volunteers for guard duty. My problem is, they all stopped after one shift and nobody wants to help with the festival. Now if Remont would volunteer for that, that would be a big help to me.”
Curt huffed before taking the quill and signing his name. “Figures,” he said. “He only tries to help when there's something new or exciting for him.”
“Oh, I wouldn't be too hard on him,” Decan said without looking up at his paperwork. “He had a lot of responsibility put on him at a young age. And it's not like we can make anyone volunteer.”
Curt shook his head. “I suppose so,” he said. “Anyway, Chief, good luck with your work.”
“I'll need it,” said Decan. “Go on and give Remont a break.”
It was lighter outside when Curt emerged so he started to hurry down the winding country road to Agremonth. It must have been nice, he thought, to be Remont and have the money and ingenuity to build a sphere-cycle or an airship so that you could take off any which way without a care in the world.
Curt noticed the Bairdsley estate, perched at the top of a hill a mile or so off, and couldn't help but glare at it.
The trip would have taken forty-five minutes, but Curt found himself kicking a stone all the way up the trail and that probably cost him a good fifteen minutes. The sun was dawning when he finally arrived at the entrance to Agremonth, and even then he still had to make it through the castle, which was always eerie and quiet in the morning.
But he got there alright; the dungeon was a pretty straightforward walk through a few halls and then down a stairwell.
“Bairdsley,” Curt called out. “You there?”
No answer. He was probably asleep, the irresponsible git.
Curt cast his gaze around and didn't see a single living soul. Maybe Bairdsley was in the cell area?
“Bairdsley!” Curt hollered after opening the door. “You there?”
Still nothing. Curt furrowed his brow and walked along the rows of cells, casting light into each one. He didn't know for sure which one Icelus was in, but... she had to be here. Right? Where the hell was Bairdsley?
“Icelus!” he shouted. “Are you here? Answer me!”
He just got closer and closer to the end, to the last cell, and still nothing. Curt closed his eyes as he got closer and silently hoped he would see Icelus there, slumped against the wall, looking at him.
He opened his eyes.
She wasn't.
A chill ran through Curt's spine; he knew he had to go back immediately and tell Decan. The town was an hour's walk away and he had just gotten here, but it didn't matter. This was important – no, vital. If Icelus was out, there was no telling what damage might be done...
Remont Bairdsley is going to have a lot to answer for, he thought as he took off running.

Marc was still staring at the portal that had been opened in his room. Behind it was Icelus – it had only been two or three days since he had last seen her and it felt almost like he was looking at an old friend.
“Marc,” she said. “I need your help.”
Remont popped into view from the left side. That might have shocked Marc even more than seeing Icelus. “Yeah,” said Remont, “we're all here too and we also need your help. Just so you know.”
Marc's mouth was agape. “Oh my g- what?” he stuttered out.
“Aaaaand you need to make a decision fast, too,” Remont said, pointing to the edges of the hole, “this thing's gonna close soon.”
“I...” Marc pointed back to his kitchen, “haven't... fed the fish...”
“Marc!” Icelus shouted, “you and those stupid fish, I swear. Get over here!”
Marc gulped. “Yes, ma'am,” he said, and so he did.
Going through the rip was as quick and as easy as falling. Well, except for the part where he doubled over in shock. He had to adjust to the Oniron air again. Remont rushed to catch him.
“Is he okay?”
Icelus, wincing, nodded. “It's normal. I'd forgotten about it, though.”
Behind them, the portal that had been opened by the crystal silently dissolved into nothing. Marc's breath slowly evened out and he steadied himself.
“Icelus...” Marc crouched down to look her in the eye, and then raised his hand and put it on her head, as if to assure himself that she was really there. “You're okay.”
“Yes,” she said. “And I'm glad you are, too.”
They stood there in silence for a second.
“But don't pet me, please.”
Marc took his hand off her. “Remont!” he said. “What are you doing here? Where are we? Are the others with you too?”
“It's my house!” said Remont. “Icelus was being held in Agremonth so she couldn't do anything when the Nexus got destroyed. Lya and I broke her out – and, yeah, her and Osette are upstairs having an argument, or maybe they're getting our ride ready now, I don't know – anyway, we're trying to restore the Nexus!”
Marc sighed – half out of sadness and half out of sympathy. “So... Piper's plan worked.”
Icelus grimaced. “Yes.”
“I'm sorry. I should have been there to help.”
“You weren't at fault. I was the one who sent you away. Otherwise you'd have been trapped with me.”
Marc reached around and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Yeah... but I wanted to help you. I still do.”
“Will you?”
“Yes,” said Marc without hesitating.
“Are you still afraid?”
Marc looked at Icelus and took a deep breath. He had given this a lot of thought – these were rehearsed words. “Yeah. It's not your fault, not at all. I was just... a kid who was scared of a weird thing. I was really, really scared. But I'm... older now. I can try to remove myself from it. But it's still there, always. I know it isn't what you want to hear, but that little bit of fear comes up every time I see you. All I can do is tell myself it's silly, and it doesn't make sense and remind myself: it's more important to help you. So,” he finished, “you don't need to worry about me. I've seen how much this means to you. I wouldn't put that at risk.”
Icelus said nothing for a while, instead alternating between staring at Marc and staring at the floor. She opened her mouth, got out a syllable, and then choked it back. Finally she said, so quietly as to almost be inaudible, “I don't know how humans show affection... but if you really wanted to pat my head you could.”
Marc broke out into a broad smile and laughed. “That's fine,” he said, and once more crouched down to meet her at eye level. “I'm just glad we're okay. I missed you.”
“I missed you too, Marc.”
They remained like that in silence for a second before a noise interrupted them – it was a loud, resonant, brassy ring that spread across the whole house.
Icelus was the first to ask. “Is that - ?”
“The doorbell,” Remont replied. He walked over to a small panel by the door and pressed a button on it, then spoke into it. “Lya, are we expecting company?”
A short pause, then Lya's voice came back through a speaker. “No.”
“Thought so. Is the dirigible ready for liftoff?”
“No. Can you stall them for... I don't know, ten minutes?”
Remont nodded. “I'll try for fifteen if I can.” He took his finger off the console and turned to Marc and Icelus. “Guys, head up to the takeoff pad on the roof. You can't miss it. It's a roof.”
“Takeoff pad?” Marc was confused, but he saw Icelus take off out of the room and hastened to follow her.
Remont took a deep breath – he knew this had to happen eventually. The only question was whether he was about to come face-to-face with an angry mob or just a single guard asking about Icelus. Whatever the case, he had to go down and greet the visitors.

When the news reached Piper that Icelus had escaped her cell, he really was worried. Piper's plan was a success, but Icelus was older and more knowledgeable than him; if there was a way to restore the Nexus, she either knew it or she knew how to find out. And she was angry – if there was ever a good motivator, it was anger. He had to remind himself not to get complacent: even now, he had to continue to take direct action. That was what he was doing now.
Piper and the seven guards behind him finally reached the front door, and it was Piper who pulled the bell. He could hear it ring inside the house.
A minute or two of silence followed.
“Is he gone?” one of the guards, Tally, asked.
“It's a big house,” Piper responded. “Besides, we're not here to accuse him of anything.”
Finally, footsteps were heard behind the door. Piper heard a creaking noise as they swung open to reveal Remont Bairdsley. Remont looked surprise to see Piper, but not scared.
“Chief Decan!” said Remont. “What brings you here?”
“An emergency, Bairdsley,” said Piper. “Can we come in?”
Remont nodded. “By all means.”
Piper and his unit of guards swept into the foyer and took a brief glance around. “Sorry to bother you,” said Piper. “We won't be very long. We just need to ask you some questions.”
Bairdsley was good at many things, but Piper could already tell that he wasn't a good actor. The signs were all obvious once you looked for them: how he crossed his arms and made an attempt at feigning confusion by lifting his eyebrows and raising his voice a bit... but it was all too overdone, the facial expressions were too deliberate and the body language subconsciously communicated his desire to put a wall between Piper and him. Piper noticed all this before Bairdsley even opened his mouth to ask, “What's wrong? What happened?”
Piper knew that failing to make eye contact would give away the game as surely as Bairdsley had just done, and refused to make the same mistake. Piper fixed his gaze on the other man but allowed a hint of worry and uncertainty to creep into his voice as he explained: “When Dreithart showed up for his shift this morning, he found that Icelus had broken out.”
Bairdsley let out a little fake-sounding gasp. “This morning? But that's-”
Piper gravely nodded. “She escaped on your watch.”
In response, Bairdsley slowly hung his head in his hands. “Oh, no. I can't believe it.”
“So we need to ask you some questions, Bairdsley,” said Piper. “We need to know when she might have escaped and where she might have gone.”
“Of course.”
“First: when did you check on her?”
Bairdsley looked at the ground, still not making eye contact with Piper. “I checked her immediately after I started my shift, and then...” he let the pause sound out before starting again, “about halfway through? Maybe a bit later.”
“Dreithart didn't see you when he clocked in for his shift. You didn't check on her right before you left?” asked Piper.
Bairdsley shook his head. “No, sir. I know I was supposed to, but... I decided to leave a bit early,” he finished sheepishly.
“Bairdsley,” said Piper sternly, “That's against protocol.”
“I realize that, sir. I apologize.”
Piper sighed. “Still, Icelus didn't escape because you took off early. You're sure she was there when you checked on her, and it was halfway through your shift?”
Bairdsley nodded earnestly. “Yes, sir.”
“Well, then, we have a two or three hour window when she could have broken out. Unless Icelus has transportation of some sort, she'll be somewhere in the surrounding countryside. She might be hiding somewhere in the town. I won't rule it out. We have a general area to look in. Let's move out,” he said to the guards. Of course, he wasn't actually going to around the area; he was already confident of where Icelus was hiding, thanks to Bairdsley.
“Sir!”
Piper turned around. “Yes, Bairdsley?”
“Sir, I'll help you with the search. I have a sphere-cycle and I can cover a lot of ground with it.”
Piper maintained the considered expression on his face. Bairdsley was trying to draw them away from Icelus's hiding place. Piper had to dissuade him. “I'm not sure about that, Bairdsley,” he said, “this morning was only your first shift. You should leave this to the more experienced guards.”
But Bairdsley would have none of it; he practically slid up to Piper. “Please, sir,” he said earnestly, “Icelus killed my great-grandfather. I've heard stories from my grandfather Mackenzie about her rampage across the town. She needs to be stopped as soon as she can, and I want to help.”
His speech was so passionate that Piper nearly went back on his suspicion of the man; but now it was clear a different tack was required. “Very well, Bairdsley,” he said. “Go put your armor on, quickly. We will be here.”
Bairdsley nodded once more. “Yes, sir,” and took off upstairs.
Piper quickly wheeled around once he was out of earshot. “I need someone to follow him.”
A brief murmur of discussion ran through the guards. It was Tally that finally stepped forward. “I can do it, sir.”
“Good. Now, Bairdsley might be going to his room, which is up two flights of stairs and second to the left in the hallway on the right side of the third floor. There's also, I think, a wardrobe that's tucked away in a large closet under the stairway on the second floor. He might be there instead. If he's anywhere else – especially in the large library straight ahead on the top floor or on the takeoff pad on the roof – don't hesitate, come and get us. Do you understand?”
Tally looked bewildered. “Have you been here a lot, sir?”
In fact Piper had only been here once, but he just knew these things. He didn't have time to go into detail, though. So instead he just said “Yes. Now hurry!” and set Tally on her way.
As she disappeared up the stairs, Piper found himself wondering if Remont had it in him to go against his town's edict and break out Icelus – but if it came to a fight, well then, he had a secret weapon behind him that Bairdsley wouldn't see coming.

Remont dashed up the stairs and threw open the door to the roof. The top of their house was a huge and entirely flat balcony, the better to store their airship. Remont looked around.
Okay, everybody was here – Marc and Icelus and Lya and Osette. Lya was operating the turbines on the underside of the dirigible.
The dirigible itself – an airship that Remont had named the Wanderlust – was quite a thing to behold. If he had been from the human world, he would have known that it was similar to a blimp – it had a large, inflated balloon on the top – the “envelope,” it was called – and an undercarriage for pilots and passengers. Unlike a blimp, the undercarriage was not a one- or two-man room – it spanned the entire length of the ship, consisting of three different rooms with space for around ten passengers, and was held to the envelope securely with a complex lattice of ropes.
On both sides of the undercarriage were turbines – getting them primed to start spinning would provide thrust for the vehicle. Once those were rotating, all they had to do was cut an extra set of ropes that tied the dirigible to the roof and it would be off.
Obviously nobody else here knew what to do, though, because Lya was the one doing work while everybody else stood around awkwardly. Not that this was unusual. At least Osette had the excuse of currently carrying all the maps and some of the supplies, but Marc and Icelus were just goggling at the Wanderlust.
On his way up, Remont had grabbed some of the silver rods that the three of them used to defend themselves against nightmares with. He gave one to Marc. “Here you go. If they break through that door, hit them.”
“With this?” Marc asked incredulously.
“Have a better idea?”
“Don't they have guns?”
“Well,” Remont said, “we have the high ground.”
“Okay, but -”
Before Marc could get another word out, Remont dipped over to check on Lya. “Turbines looking okay?” he shouted.
She gave him a thumbs up and hopped off. “I'll get to the cockpit, you check the engine's okay.”
“Wait,” said Remont. “Take Osette's stuff first, she can defend Marc and Icelus.”
“Good idea. Osette!” Lya shouted to Osette, who still had her hands full of the maps and atlases that they needed to determine their course. “Did you hear that?”
“Yeah,” Osette responded quietly. “Um...”
Lya didn't let her finish. She ran over, grabbed the books and scrolls from Osette's hand, and ran into the undercarriage. Remont came second, handed Osette a polearm, and took off after Lya.
Osette was bit mortified and helpless, and slowly became aware that Marc and Icelus were looking at her, as if she was their leader now. How did that happen?
Suddenly, behind the door, a loud pounding noise was heard. Then another one. And another. They had been located, and now the guards were trying to break through the door.
Marc looked at Osette. He held his polearm awkwardly and unnaturally – he had never fought with one of these things before. “They're coming through now,” he said. “I don't know if I can take them.”
“Oh...” Osette said. “You just have to...” she made a few broad, swinging motions with her weapon – she had had ample practice with it and the movements were easy enough for her, but she didn't know how to explain all this. Not now. And she was only getting a blank stare from Marc in response.
Just then, a shot was heard from behind the door – a screech of metal on metal. They had shot the lock, and now the door was hanging open. The door was kicked wide open by the lead guard, who had her rifle at the ready and charged in.
Osette took one look at the guard's posture – her finger wasn't on the trigger yet, so she wasn't about to imminently shoot them. Maybe they had been given orders not to kill? Regardless, it meant there was an opening, and Osette needed to take advantage of it.
In a few swift movements, Osette leaped forward, knocked the gun aside, twisted the polearm, rapped the guard's hands hard so that she dropped the rifle, landed, kicked it away, and smacked her enemy on the head to daze her.
That was enough punishment for one person, but there were other guards crowding the stairwell trying to get up.
Osette then heard Icelus shout. “Osette, get away! Marc, grab my back!”
She didn't know what Icelus was trying to do, but there was no time to think. Osette rolled back until she was level with the two others and shouted “Go!”
Marc put his hand on Icelus's back and there was a brief flicker of electricity – and then Icelus roared.
This wasn't an ordinary roar, though – it was almost like a wave of energy, directed at the dazed and stumbling guard on the roof. It hit the target square-on, and sent her flying back into the stairwell, colliding with the other guards and sending them tumbling back down. Osette flinched at the sight.
They were safe, briefly.
“What was that?” Marc asked.
“Some of my old power returning,” said Icelus. “I won't be fighting elder gods any time soon, but it's something. Thank you, Marc.”
Marc grinned.
Remont's voice came from behind them. “Hey! Get on!”
They all looked. Remont had opened the door of the undercarriage for them – the vehicle was ready for liftoff. Now he had to cut the ropes.
Marc, Icelus and Osette piled into the undercarriage and felt the tethers tying the Wanderlust slowly lighten, until there was just one left, and then the unmistakable sensation of weightlessness as the airship lifted off – and there was Remont, quickly sliding in through the open door and shutting it tight behind him.
Remont breathed a sigh of relief and let himself slide down until he was on the ground. He was here, Lya was in the cockpit. Marc, Icelus and Osette were all laughing with relief. The maps were safe. Everything had gone off... mostly okay. He began to chuckle.
“Not done by a long shot,” he said to himself, “now we gotta find that crystal.”

Marc had to sit down for a minute. Since stepping through the portal it had been a constant stream of excitement, and he was grateful for some downtime.
The airship looked like it was made from technology that wasn't near Earth's level yet, but the Wanderlust flew pretty smoothly, and was decorated nicely. There were three rows of three seats each, more than enough to hold everybody, plus a door in the back that led to the engine room and a sliding door in the front that opened up into the cockpit.
Icelus was curled up on the floor, looking for all the world like she was asleep; Marc knew better, though. She was probably just conserving her energy and preparing for what they were about to do.
…what were they about to do?
“Remont,” said Marc.
Remont had been sitting on the ground catching his breath, but got up and sat next to Marc when he called him. “What's up?”
“Where are we headed?'
“Oh...” Remont chuckled. “I guess in all the hubbub we never got around to telling you. I'll show you – hey, Osette.”
Osette was near the front of the room, with her maps spread across the floor, mentally calculating and checking them. She looked up. “Yeah?”
“I need to catch Marc up to speed about where we're going.”
Rather than let him do this, Osette picked up one of the maps and walked over to Marc. “We're about here – you can see the little mark that denotes Zamasea – and we're heading... southwest. Here,” she pointed to a blank space on the map that she had marked with an X, “that's where we're going. It's the site of a big crystal formation.”
“Crystal formation?” Marc looked at Remont hoping to get some clarification.
“Well, it used to be that before the Nexus got destroyed, psychic energy would flow in from the other world into ours and create nightmares. Now that the two worlds are cut off,” explained Remont, “there's only a finite amount of energy in Oniron, and it's creating these crystals.”
“Oh!” said Marc. “That sounds like a thermodynamics thing.”
“What?”
Great. Now he was going to have to explain physics. “We learned it in school,” he said. “Energy is never destroyed, it just goes into another system.”
Remont nodded. “That sounds like what's going on here, kinda. But there's no reaction to determine where the energy should go, so it's kind of just... swirling around and then taking physical shape. The excess energy is taking the form of crystals – either small ones like these,” he reached into his pocket and held up a small, purplish crystal for Marc to see, “or big formations of them. We've got word that this one is more like a cave formation than a rock.”
“That's... a lot of energy,” said Marc.
“Yeah, but only if you know how to use it. Nightmares can do it – they used to draw on their own energy to power their spell circles. I bet if Icelus got a grab at that crystal, she could do some damage.”
“My priority is restoring the Nexus, Remont,” said Icelus from her curled-up position.
“But you do want to do some damage to Piper, right?” Remont said slyly.
There was a brief, dignified pause, as if Icelus was offended at the idea, before she spoke up again. “...Yes. Yes I do. But that's not a solution. We need to find a way that we know will restore the Nexus. Amassing power for its own sake is no good if we don't know how to use it.”
There was a creak as the door to the cockpit opened and Lya stepped through. “We should be good on autopilot for a few hours. What's happening here?”
“Icelus brought up a good point,” said Remont. “We don't have a plan to actually bring the Nexus back. We need some information first.”
Lya crossed her arms. “Well, where could we find out something like that?”
“I have an idea,” said Icelus. “It would require a detour – Osette, you might have to help me locate something on those maps.”
Osette smiled and nodded. “Yeah!”
“What is it?” asked Remont.
“Well...” Icelus uncurled herself and stood up. “There are other deities besides me. I haven't seen most of them in many, many years. But they would know me, and they might help me. There is one deity I know in particular. His name is Solon. My duty was to be the guardian of the Nexus, but his duty is to be a repository of magical knowledge.” She paused here. “I guarded the Nexus, but I did not know all of its secrets. Solon likely does. If anybody knows a way to restore or recreate it, it would be him.”
Marc saw everybody look at each other and give silent nods. It seemed like a good idea. “Where could we find Solon?” asked Remont.
“He makes his home in a tall spire called Cizruviel. I know roughly where it might be,” said Icelus.
It was Lya who spoke up this time. “That's a dangerous place,” she said.
All eyes turned to look at her. “Has something changed since I was last there?” asked Icelus.
Lya looked downwards, as if she regretted bringing it up. “The last I heard of Cizruviel was that it was taken over by a community of nightmares.”
“A community?” Remont balked. “I didn't know nightmares had communities.”
“Well, most of the ones we've seen were animalistic, Remont. Besides, it's not like they want to open their doors to outsiders.” Lya put her hands on her hips. “People from Oniron generally attack or run away when they see a nightmare.”
“Oh. I... didn't know you had experience with that.” Remont scratched his head awkwardly.
“It was before I met you,” Lya said offhandedly. “Anyway, they'll probably attack us when we get there.”
They all thought about this for a bit. Remont finally clapped his hands together, coming to a realization. “So we just wait until we've gone around to enough crystal formations, gathered enough power to take on the nightmares, and use that to break into where Solon is staying and get him to help us. Easy enough!”
“Geez,” said Lya, exasperated. “Do you just want to blow up or punch stuff all the time? I can't believe you.”
Remont was taken aback at the way she lashed out. “Well, then what should we do?”
“I... I don't know, but that's definitely not the way to do it!” said Lya. “Osette, you agree with me, right?”
“Uh... yeah,” Osette said, clearly confused.
Lya gave a loud “hmph” and stormed out, back to the cockpit. Osette, confused, followed her. “Lya. Lya!” She disappeared behind the door as well.
Remont was agog. He uneasily looked to Marc and Icelus. “I guess we'll decide what to do... later?”
“I suppose so,” said Icelus.
And so they settled in for a long, awkward flight to their destination.

When Lya emerged from the cockpit, it was obvious that she didn't want to bring up the argument. By now, it was several hours in the past. Instead she informed them that they were close to the crystal formation.
“You can come see it up ahead in the cockpit,” she said.
Shoving everybody in that small room wasn't comfortable, and Marc thought he felt the ship dip to the front once they all piled in, but the view was worth it. For one thing, everything for miles was absolutely barren – no features, no terrain, just a dusty blank canvas.
And there, in the middle of it all, a two-story-tall edifice of pure, pulsating crystal, jutting out at odd angles and badly misshapen. But its power was unmistakable; if this area had been anywhere near populated, it would have been snatched up immediately.
“Wow,” said Marc.
“Whatever that thing has in it,” said Icelus, “it might just be enough by itself.”
“I wouldn't place all your bets on that thing just now,” replied Remont, “but it'll help.”
The five of them continued their skyward crawl towards the edifice, all of them feeling relieved and reassured, when a large thump from above distracted them.
Lya jumped up from the pilot's seat and looked around. “What was that?”
Remont glanced around. “I don't know. There's a periscope in the engine room, I'll check the outside. Be right back.”
So he squeezed out and slipped into the back engine room. There was nothing for a few seconds, and then Remont loudly yelled, “Shit!”
“What is it?!” Lya shouted back.
Remont reappeared. “The shadow dogs! They're back!”
“What?!”
“They're on the envelope, trying to rip holes in the airship!”
They could all hear it now: the scuttling, the thick and muffled poking noises. Marc's heart froze in terror.
“Were they there the whole time?” Lya asked.
“I don't know,” said Remont, who sounded like he wasn't concerned with this particular detail, “maybe.”
Then they all heard the same thing: an unmistakable puncturing noise.
All of a sudden, the floor careened and everyone fell sideways. Whatever sense of gravity and balance existed was thrown asunder, and Marc found his head colliding with the side of a seat.
“Everyone hold on to something!” he heard Remont yell.
“We're going to crash into the crystal!” Lya shouted in response.
Marc staggered to his feet and grabbed a seat for balance. “Remont!” he shouted – everyone had to shout now, the wind was starting to whistle in their ears - “Are we gonna be okay?”
Remont's only response was a petrified stare, and the look in his eyes told Marc all he needed to know.
The front of the ship crumpled against the giant edifice, and the world became fire and darkness.


Next

Chapter 7: Crystals

In just under a week, the world that Marc belonged to had become unsettling and alien, and all he wanted to do was to find a way back to Oniron. He had to know what was going on – he had to know if Piper had succeeded and destroyed the Nexus.
And what if he had? What could Marc even do? It wasn't like he knew how to fix or reverse it. It was some sort of supernatural thingy and he had no experience with it. He had never really figured out the rules of Oniron and he was pretty sure even Icelus didn't know it all. But he still wanted to know. If he knew, he could adjust. The not knowing what what killed him.
At least being at his grandmother's house reassured him a bit. If something was going to happen in Oniron and if it affected the human world, Marc figured it had to start here. He had arrived home from Not the Same, Part II in a daze, and not just because it was 3AM. He had refused Austin's offer to spend the night, making up an excuse that he felt sick, and he had driven back with his mind racing in circles.
When he arrived, he was hoping, more than anything, for Icelus to be there. Maybe she would be fine, maybe she would chuckle and spin him a yarn about how she had overtaken her guards and how she had found Piper, neutralized him, and now the Shieldwork was safe and everything was fine. Or maybe she had just broken out and she had come to Marc immediately because he was the only person she could trust any more, and she would ask for shelter. He would have given it to her. He didn't have any reservations about his involvement with this whole affair anymore. He just wanted to save the universe. That's all.
Instead there was nothing. Marc got home and the kitchen was dark and the fish were asleep. He had never in his life wished for that dog statue to be waiting for him in the dark when he came home, but the past week had changed his views on a lot of things, including that old thing he used to have nightmares about.
Marc turned the light on and glanced at the refrigerator. On it hung pictures of Marc's family – his cousins, his parents, him. His eyes picked out the one that Mary had showed him right before she left. He and his cousins were crouched on the floor in front of the fireplace. Looming over them was the thin, stern figure of Icelus.
He plucked out the photograph from under the magnet and looked at it. And for a moment Icelus wasn't Icelus anymore – she was just... the dog statue. Her face looked as cold and as cruel as it always looked in Marc's nightmares.
All this, and he still couldn't shake some stupid dreams from when he was a kid.
Marc slammed his fist on the refrigerator, and took one last look at that picture.
“Wherever Icelus is now,” he whispered to himself, “she deserves a better friend than me.”
Marc put the photo back and turned off the light.

The destruction of the Shieldwork had been agony for Icelus, and she was only now starting to recover.
That she was recovering at all was surprising. Surely when her sigil had been dealt such violence as it had been dealt, she would have been rendered as weak and helpless as Piper's friend, Canis. Maybe even moreso. And yet here she was – winded, not in any state to escape, and mostly just resting in between long stretches of terminal boredom and frustration – but in much better health than she had ever expected.
But the initial blast of psychic energy, ripping apart the Shieldwork, had hurt. A lot. It was pain such as she had never known before – a battering assault that struck deep at her core, left her lying on the floor unable to breathe. Every second her eyes swam, and she heaved and hacked and coughed and her limbs flew everywhere in pain.
When it finally subsided, Icelus did not know how long it had been. It felt like hours, but in retrospect it seemed more like ten minutes. Ten minutes where she had to fight every second to stay alive. As soon as the pain stopped, Icelus felt such relief that she immediately fell into some sort of trance. Not a sleep – her kind didn't sleep, not really, but it was as close as she could have gotten to it.
And she did wake from the trance, feeble but definitely alive. Why?
She had a lot of time to think about it, and she thought she had an answer.
If Piper had destroyed the Nexus, Oniron wasn't tied to the human world anymore. The dreams and fears and hatred of humans no longer held any sway in here. It made sense, timing-wise – assuming it took Piper ten minutes or so to draw a spell circle and destroy the Nexus, then there were only ten minutes where she was actually affected by the humans' negative thoughts. After the Shieldwork's collapse but before the Nexus's destruction – that was when she had suffered.
On one hand, this meant that she was mostly okay now. Again, very feeble and probably in need of a long recovery, but okay. For now, her suffering was over.
On the other hand, it meant that Piper really had destroyed the Nexus.
Just knowing this was as bad as her brief moment of torture, and it didn't go away. She had failed – completely and utterly. Her job was to protect the Nexus. It was the one thing she was sure was her duty, the one thing she had always done. From time immemorial, she had protected it. Icelus didn't even remember an infancy or an adolescence. It must have happened at some point, but it was so long ago now that she had forgotten it, and her earliest memories were of her, in her fullest power, hellbent on guarding that bridge.
And now this series of stupid, contrived coincidences had robbed her of her purpose. A bunch of little people had undone everything she had tried to uphold for hundreds of thousands of years. She would have taken the pain fifty times over living with this.
The floor of her cell was probably going to get a circle worn in it soon, so often did she pace. The worst part of a jail cell, she mused, was the inability to run. She only had a few square feet of free space on any side of her, and if she could run at least she could block out her thoughts. If she had been human, maybe she could have slept. Or exercised, or something. She briefly thought about charging and running up the wall, not because she thought it would help her escape but because she needed, more than anything, to not be stewing in her own thoughts.
The only solace she had was the occasional visit from the guards, but it wasn't much of a relief. They were never friendly visits; after all, these were the ones that were holding her captive. But they didn't want to taunt or mock Icelus like Piper had done. Instead, they were usually just awed. It was like they were seeing a legend in the flesh – except the legend was currently helpless and sitting in a cell with no way to get out and really resented them. A legend nonetheless.
Sometimes she didn't want to put up with the guards, so she roared and hissed at them until they left, but sometimes she asked them about the outside world. When she did, she usually got somewhat helpful answers. It had indeed been seventy years since her rampage. It was an infamous event that had become almost a legend in the town. Nobody had noticed anything amiss since the Nexus was destroyed. Actually, everybody seemed pretty flippant about what the Nexus was and what it did. It didn't seem important to them. When Icelus tried to describe Piper and tell them that he had done it, they usually just rolled their eyes and left her. She got the feeling that she was a museum artifact – one that was less interesting than everybody had hoped. It was better than being hated and feared, but it didn't feel that way when one was in a jail cell.
Right now, she heard footsteps – there was probably another guard coming to gawk at her. She felt too tired to bark at him and make him leave. Maybe she could ply him with questions.
The man stopped and took a good look at her. He was tall, tanned and seemed like he smiled a lot. He crouched down and peered at her, saying nothing.
“What do you want?” she asked.
He grinned and turned his head to the hallway. “This is definitely it!” The man turned back to her. “Icelus?”
Icelus narrowed her eyes. “Who are you?”
Someone else opened the door and walked over to her cell – an intense-looking woman. “You're sure?” the woman asked.
“Yep.”
The woman had a bag on her back, and swung it around to dig inside for something.
“Icelus,” said the man. “Nice to finally meet you. This here is Lya,” he pointed to the woman, “and I'm Remont. We need to have a talk with you.”

There was still one remaining artifact from Marc's trip to Oniron, and he was looking at it right now.
Scary Monster in the Night was a really dull book, he thought. It didn't teach kids a valuable life lesson or anything like that. It was just about getting them to hate Icelus. Which it really wasn't even very good at.
But whoever did those illustrations had been pretty on-point. Icelus in this book really was frightening – teeth bared, fur matted with dirt and grime. Mostly, though, it looked like it was staring out of the book straight at the reader. Intensely, viciously. Who had illustrated this? They had knocked it out of the park.
Marc flipped the book over to the back and looked for the credits. There they were – in small text at the bottom. The illustrator, apparently, was one Jean Hall. What was under that little bit of text, though, was the real interesting thing, and what really set his mind racing.
© 2002 Terrell Publishing
Marc looked at the publisher more closely. “Terrell”...
He took out his phone and Googled “Terrell Publishing.” He got the publisher's website. Not much was useful on here. “High-quality books for all ages,” they said. Marc idly flipped to the About tab.
Founded in 1991 by Gordon Terrell in Richmond, Viriginia...
Gordon Terrell. That's the name that had stuck with Marc. He wracked his brain to remember when he had heard it.
Wait, yes! It was just last night he had had this conversation.
“The author of the movies – or not the author of the movies, but the guy who wrote the books they were based on – did you hear about this? Gordon Terrell?”
“No, I didn't. What about him?”
“Well, he just died a few days ago.”
Gordon Terrell was the writer of the books that those movies were based on! And his publishing house had put out Scary Monster in the Night. Marc picked up the book again and looked at the author. Reid Marshall.
Marc only had vague memories of Mr. Marshall. He had been very young. Mr. Marshall wasn't a very outgoing or remarkable person. He'd never talked much to Marc, which Marc hadn't liked because he was a child at the time and liked being paid attention to. That was about all he could remember – a vague sketch, a couple of the man's quirks and his attitude. Nothing useful.
And yet this person had written a children's book that was actually some sort of magical incantation. And so had Gordon Terrell.
Had these two men been in league? They must have been. Piper was involved too, somehow. But now both Marshall and Terrell were dead. Why?
Marc felt himself getting a headache and put the book down. He didn't have the resources to sort through all this, and it was looking more and more like something he couldn't do anything about anyway.
But then a strange and otherworldly noise made Marc turn his head.

“What do you want?” Icelus asked again.
The woman named Lya had taken out two thin metal rods and seemed to be testing them. The man – Remont – was still staring at Icelus intently.
“First thing's first, we need to know if you're on our side,” he said.
“I'm in jail and you're the guards,” Icelus replied, “what do you think?”
Remont held up a finger and waggled it. “Don't trust your first impressions. We could bust you out of here, and are fully prepared to,” he gestured to Lya, who twiddled with her rods, “but first we need to know one thing.”
“What is it?”
Remont crouched down to meet her at eye level. “Did you hurt Marc? Is he okay?”
Icelus sharply gasped. “Are you... are you the people who picked him up?”
“Sure are,” said Remont gravely, “and I need to know what you did to him.”
Icelus's face dropped. “Marc... I let him down,” she said under her breath.
“What?”
She looked up. “He's safe. He's in the human world now.”
Remont relaxed a bit. “You two disappeared when we were in that house. Where'd you go?”
“To his world. I couldn't wait any longer – if he had stuck around then you'd have found out he wasn't a tripper. You would known he was here for some other reason.”
“So he wasn't a tripper at all?” This time Lya asked the question.
“No,” replied Icelus, “he was actually there in Oniron.”
“And you were with him before we found him?” Lya asked.
“Yes. Well, he was with me. I needed his help and I brought him over here.”
Remont and Lya cast a glance at each other and nodded. “Hold on,” said Lya, “I'm going to pick the lock.” She bent down and stuck the two pin in, and began working.
“You don't have a key?” asked Icelus.
“They don't give the guards keys,” said Remont. “I guess nobody had any intention of letting you out.”
“Then they'll know exactly who helped me get out,” said Icelus.
“We've prepared for that,” explained Remont, “but if I was Chief Decan, I probably wouldn't be high on the list of suspects anyway. Nobody's gonna suspect a Bairdsley of breaking you out.”
“Bairdsley?!” Icelus shot up. “You're...!”
Remont laughed. “Mackenzie Bairdsley, the man who exiled you? That was my grandfather.”
“Then why would you help me?!”
“Two reasons,” Remont said. “First, I'm not my grandfather, and I don't care much about his grudges. I mean, yeah, you did scare my great-grandfather to death – that wasn't nice, even if it was an accident – but I never knew him, so I have a hard time taking it personally. Second, and more importantly,” his tone became more solemn and his voice dropped, “what I love more than anything in the world is the freedom to go out and explore and see great new things. It's pretty important to Lya and my sister Osette too, but especially to me. And I know the Nexus has been destroyed. Unlike everyone else in Zamasea where I live, I know what that means and how important it is. It means no more change. No more new things.”
Icelus had to admit, she was impressed. “Is that why you're freeing me?”
Remont nodded solemnly. “You are – you were – the guardian of the Nexus. If anybody knows how to restore it, it's you.”
A clank was heard in the cell. Lya took out the pins from the lock and swung the door open. Icelus was free.
“Even if you don't know how to restore it,” said Remont, “I'm sure you want to. So we could use your help.”
As she took her first steps out of the cell, Icelus turned to Remont and Lya. “Thank you,” she said. “What happens now?”
“Well, this is the start of my shift,” Remont said, “It's basically the middle of the night, so there shouldn't be anyone else here. Next guard comes in about six hours, and it'll take them at least an hour and a half to get back to Zamasea to raise the alarm. We have a big lead.”
“Won't it take us an hour and a half, too?”
“Not necessarily,” Remont smirked. “We have sphere-cycles and they don't. Come on, we're heading to our house.”

Remont was right – there were practically no guards or people on the way down through Agremonth. Lya would look around the corners to warn them of any oncomers – she was neither a guard nor a prisoner, so she could afford to be seen.
“What a relief,” he said as they bounded down into the main hall after Lya. “I thought there still might be some people who wanted to visit you.”
“I am kind of insulted,” muttered Icelus.
Nonetheless she was relieved at their luck. They made it out of the castle with no problems. Lya and Remont's sphere-cycles were waiting outside, but one of them had an extra accessory that Icelus didn't remember from the last time she had seen them.
“A sidecar?!” she shot Remont an incredulous sneer.
Remont grinned sheepishly. “Well, erm... there's no other way we can get you on these things. You can't hold on to our backs, you know, being a dog and all.”
“I am not a dog.”
“You're dog-shaped,” he said, mounting his bike. “Are you coming with us or not?”
Icelus made a show of grumbling, but slowly climbed in to the sidecar and allowed herself to be taken off.
It took about ten minutes to cross the trail from Agremonth to Zamasea, and Icelus, though trapped in a sidecar, couldn't help but appreciate the feeling of freedom – of air whipping through her ears and no walls on any side of her.
Remont turned away from Zamasea – they headed instead toward a large, gated-off mansion that was located on a hill a ways from the town proper. This was good – Icelus didn't want to be seen by the townspeople.
They came to a halt outside the gate and Lya hopped off the sphere-cycle, took out a key and turned it.
“Is that your house?” Icelus said, shocked. The mansion was huge and impressive, and visible for many miles around. It was almost a castle itself.
“Yep,” said Remont. “I figured you'd have seen it before. You knew my grandfather, right?”
“I didn't get out much,” she said.
The gate swung open and Lya hopped back on her bike. From there it was a short, leisurely drive up the main parkway to the front of the house.
Remont swung the doors open, all business. “We should get to the main study. Check on Osette. See if she's got the dirigible ready.”
“I hope she has,” said Lya.
“Dirigible?” asked Icelus.
“Our escape plan,” explained Remont as they ascended the stairs up through the mansion, passing many ornate dining rooms and libraries. “If the whole village finds out that we're the ones that helped you escape, then we take to the skies. Osette was in charge of prepping it while we were away.”
“Do you think they'll find out that quickly?”
“Always possible,” said Remont. “At any rate, we need to talk strategy. Osette!” He shouted into the room they had entered.
This room was clearly well-lived-in: maps, books, journals and handwritten notes filled the large table in the center in huge stacks that threatened to topple over at any minute. The walls were plastered with even more maps: ones that showed the whole of Oniron and other, more specific counties of the world, upon which paths and routes had been hand-drawn extensively.
Currently at one of the larger, world-spanning maps was a small, ratty girl who turned her head to see who had just called her. “Oh!” she said. “You got her.” The girl turned back to her map.
Remont chuckled. “That's Osette. She's big on maps and not so big on new people.”
Lya walked over to where Osette was and leaned on her. “You doing alright?” she asked.
Osette nodded and pointed to a newly-drawn path on the map, eager to show Lya. “I planned out the best way from here to the crystal formation!”
“That's great, Osette,” said Lya. “We might need to leave soon. Is the dirigible ready?”
Osette huffed. “No, it was dumb.”
“What do you mean?” Lya took her hand off Osette's shoulder and turned to her. “Osette, that was all you had to do. We might have to leave here at any time.”
Osette crossed her arms and didn't look Lya in the eye. “I tried to figure it out and it was just... normally you're the one who does all that dumb stuff.”
“I told you exactly what you needed to do to get that dirigible ready, Osette,” said Lya tersely. “I gave you very clear instructions on how to-”
“Lya,” interrupted Remont, “Don't get too hard on Osette, she'd never done it before. I could have gotten Icelus out by myself, you could've stayed here...”
In response to this Lya shot Remont a glare that made his sentence trail off quick. “Icelus,” he said under his breath, “let's leave them alone for a bit.”
Icelus nodded and Remont closed the door slowly and quietly.
“Are they normally like that?” asked Icelus.
“No,” said Remont, “that's the weirdest thing. Lya's been so tense lately and she's kind of... taking it out on Osette? I don't know.”
“It didn't look pretty.”
“No,” Remont deeply sighed. “Osette and Lya... they love each other. They really do. But Osette's the kind of person that needs help and support with things. And Lya's definitely the giver in the relationship. But lately she's been trying to push more things on Osette, it seems like.”
They began to walk down a hallway. “That doesn't sound fair,” said Icelus.
“Well, it's not like it's really a bad idea. Osette really would be up a creek without someone to support her. It couldn't hurt to learn some independence. It's tough,” Remont said. “But we need to focus on our destination.”
“And where's that?”
Remont had led her to a bedroom – probably his own. It was, like everything else in the house, large and ornate, but it was fairly messy.
“You don't know anything about what's happened to the world in the last few days, have you?”
“No. What happened?”
“It's strange, and we don't have the full brunt of it yet,” he said, “but the psychic energy that used to make nightmares stronger isn't coming in anymore. And at the same time, some of them are losing what power they do have. And now all that energy is in the world, swirling around, and it's eventually taking a physical form.” Remont crossed the room to a small wall-safe, turned the lock combination, and opened it. He drew out a small gem. “Crystals.”
Icelus peered at the small, purple stone that Remont held in his hand. It was barely the size of a fingernail, but it seemed to glow and blur the boundaries of its physical container. “I can sense it,” she said. “The power.”
“Yep. These things have been popping up all over the world – sometimes big formations of them. Nightmares have been making grabs for these – they're not relying on the human world for power any more. It's a new game in town.”
Icelus looked up at Remont eagerly. “Then we need to find some. Gather what we can.”
“I agree!” he said. “That seems like the best bet for restoring the Nexus. But meanwhile, I have a plan for this one.” He held out the small crystal to Icelus. “Take it.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why?”
“I want you,” he said, “to think of Marc. Locate him. If he can help...”
Icelus did a sharp intake of breath and stared at the crystal. “This little thing... can open a gate to the human world?”
“Yes,” said Remont, “but not for long. We don't have many of these. We can't waste our time when it's open.”
She solemnly considered the crystal. With this, she could find Marc again. Apologize to him.
“Okay,” she said. “Let me see it.”
She gently took it in between her teeth and thought of Marc's house – the living room she had grown to know so well over the years. “How do I do this?” she asked, muffled with the crystal in her mouth.
“Throw it on the ground,” said Remont, motioning to do so.
She did. The crystal smacked the ground and broke apart easily, and out of it arose a flickering, strange apparition – like a window in the universe, one with no form or weight, but showing a clear image of the living room.
And there was Marc. He was there. He had noticed. He was looking at her.

Marc couldn't believe it. It was like someone had taken a knife and cut a hole through the world and now on the other side...was Icelus.
Her back was crouched and her eyes were sad. She looked nervous, and not quite like she believed what was going on either. But slowly, she opened her mouth and spoke.
“Marc,” she said. “I need your help.”


Next

Chapter 6: Blockbuster

If you wanted to speak to someone nowadays, you could just call them, or text them, or send them a message on Facebook. If all else fails then you could do something crazy like mail them a letter. It's not normal anymore to be completely cut off from someone you want or need to speak to. This can cause a real anxiety, and this is a kind of anxiety that people generally aren't good at dealing with anymore. And the situation becomes so much worse when that person is in a bad way – they might need help, but they just can't be reached.
All you can do is wait and hope they're okay. It's maddening.
Right now, Marc couldn't contact Icelus – not just because she didn't have a cell phone or Facebook, but also because they were currently in separate universes. The methods of travel between those universes were too arcane and confusing for Marc to get a grip on – he had tried to make sense of them when Icelus was whisking him back and forth, but it hadn't really stuck. And he was worried about her now – not because her car was broken down or she was lost, but because the last time he had seen her, they were being confronted by men with rifles who probably hated and feared her. So she had taken one for the team and used her powers to warp Marc away, either because she couldn't bear to see Marc's face anymore or because she didn't want him to be in danger.
Either way, he wanted to see her very much. He wanted to apologize, at least.
It had been two days since Marc had been warped back to his home. He'd found himself only a few blocks from his grandmother's house. Icelus must have been considerate enough to aim him in the general vicinity. But that was the last he had seen of her – the last he had seen of Oniron at all. Everything here in “the human universe,” as she had always called it, seemed so quiet.
He missed Icelus. She'd probably be amused by the way he was thinking – his universe wasn't “home,” and it wasn't “the world,” it was “the human's world.” It wasn't the whole thing anymore – it was part of a bigger thing, and there were other parts that were just as big and just as important.
He missed Remont, too. He missed Lya and he even missed Osette. He had been whisked away in front of all of them without ever getting a chance to explain why. He wondered what they had thought of that.
Marc heard a vibrating noise and crossed the living room to get his phone. His friend Austin was calling? Weird. He answered it. “What's up, dude?”
“Hey, man, you doing anything tonight?” Austin's voice came out the other end.
Marc's feet couldn't help but drifting towards the empty fireplace. “No,” he said.
“Great! Well, hey, listen, we got tickets to Not the Same at midnight tonight, but my sister's really sick and she can't go, and my mom asked if I wanted to invite someone, so...”
“Uh, well, I'm at my grandma's house, it's a bit of a drive...” Marc lingered near the fireplace for a second or two, but then turned away. “You know what, fuck it, I'll come. Sounds good.”
“Oh, you sure, man?”
“Yeah, I haven't seen anyone all week anyway. Just been, uh, hanging out house-sitting...” Marc hesitated. “Alone. Nothing special.”
“Well, great! Sounds like a good time! You know where my house is?”
“I think so, uh – I'll call you if I need help finding it. When are we meeting?”
“How about ten?”
“Sounds good.”
“Okay, great. See you then, man!”
“See ya.”
Click.
Boy, it would be really weird to see his friend again after all that had happened. It felt like a whirlwind. Maybe if I see Austin, he thought, it'll help me get out of this mood. Put it in the past.
Maybe.

Marc only realized this right before he got to the movie, but he hadn't actually seen any of the other films in this series, so he was going to be totally lost.
Apparently this was the last in the series – the Not Okay Saga. And what he was sitting down to see was Not the Same, Part II, which was based on the second half of the last book in a trilogy of novels, all of which had been really popular.
“You know what's really crazy about it?” Austin asked him.
Marc looked over at him. They were waiting at the concession stands. “No, what?”
“The author of the movies – or not the author of the movies, but the guy who wrote the books they were based on – did you hear about this? Gordon Terrell?”
“No, I didn't. What about him?”
“Well,” said Austin, “he just died a few days ago.”
“Did he really?”
“Yeah. It was a drug overdose.” Austin shook his head. “I mean, he finished his books, but he never really got to see the movie series finish.”
“That's a shame,” said Marc.
“It really is. Maybe if he hadn't died,” Austin said, squeezing by someone to get to the front of the line, “this placed wouldn't be so packed.”
“Look at the people here, man,” said Marc. “All the cosplaying teenagers around here lining up. There are probably tons of people who'd be dying to get to the midnight premiere and here I am – oh, sorry,” Marc turned to the haggard concession stand worker, “I'll have a large Mountain Dew. And here I am,” he turned back to Austin, “just gonna waltz in to this movie without knowing anything. No appreciation for the lore of, uh... what's the series called?”
“Not Okay.”
Marc chuckled. “See? No appreciation. Thank you,” he grabbed his drink and slid off with Austin to find some seats.
“Well, I'm glad you could come, dude,” Austin said.
“No problem,” Marc replied. “Maybe there'll be something in this movie I think is interesting.”

The film opened with a panning shot through an underground bunker, switching between a group of characters – ragtag freedom fighters, it looked like to Marc. They obviously knew each other and probably had been through hell together. Definitely acted like it. There was the fierce and determined leader. There was her second-in-command and – if Marc's guess was right – her love interest. There was another guy there – it looked like he could possibly threaten their budding relationship and form a love triangle. But he would probably end up with one of the two other women who were just kind of there in the background.
All of a sudden someone bursts in to their base. Momentary shock. Weapons drawn. But then they get lowered. The group recognizes this person – he's supposed to be dead. He stumbles over, injured, collides with a table and falls on the floor. They to help him and get him water.
Later, he's rested up and in bed. He seems to be asleep, and there's a brief conversation about his health. Then he turns over and speaks to the heroes. “I stole this blueprint,” he says. “It's a weapon. This is what they're planning to use to drill through the underground city.”
Marc thought about asking Austin which underground city this guy was talking about, but he thought better of it. And then he saw the blueprint on display.
The injured man had pulled a scroll out from his boot and unwrapped it. He showed it to everyone.
It was the same shape as Icelus's sigil.
That couldn't be a coincidence, could it? He squinted. Was that what Icelus's sigil had looked like? It was tough to say. He didn't really trust himself to remember right – but it definitely looked like it...
“We need to stop this,” said the main character. “We need to break into the capital and put an end to Icelus – for good this time.”
Marc's heart skipped a beat.
He leaned over to Austin. “Hey, who... who's Icelus?”
Austin nonchalantly answered, “The bad guy.”
Marc apprehensively looked back at the screen. “Bad guy?”
“Well, girl. Just watch,” Austin prompted him, and they returned to watching the movie.
But Marc couldn't focus on the movie now. He remembered what Icelus had been saying.
The plan failed... He must have a new one now. One that's working.
Slowly, apprehensively, Marc gazed at the gathered heads of the crowd packed into the movie theater. There wasn't an empty seat to be found.
This was it... This was the plan. It was just like Scary Monster in the Night writ large, and this time it was popular. This time it had gripped the imagination of a whole country. This time it would work.
Thousands of people were about to see a machine that looked like Icelus's sigil destroyed. A villain named after her defeated. The climax of a whole hyped-up media franchise.
The Shieldwork was doomed.

Icelus had thought over every possible course of action, and she wasn't happy with the one she had picked.
She pressed her paw against the iron bars of her cell, testing their strength for the millionth time. Had enough power returned to her that she could try to break them? It didn't feel like it. Even just transporting Marc back had wiped her out and left her vulnerable to being taken and dragged off to a dungeon. In her own castle. Humiliating.
It had been about a week now, for her. A week alone in this small, cramped cell, the only thing in the entire castle that seemed sturdy and well-built. And she still couldn't think of a better course of action than “wait here.” She was after Piper, and with no way to track him, it was best to wait. The Nexus was right there – if his goal was still to destroy it, then he needed to be here some time.
Icelus heard a rattling and a murmur of voices at the end of the hallway. The guards were changing shifts. Footsteps were heard.
She sighed. Waiting felt like giving up to her, especially with no working plan to break free. Could she overpower or sneak past the guards? Probably, but there was no point in it. The Nexus was the only place to be, and if she made a beeline for it then the guards would find her easily and just drag her back here. Best to bide her time, only break out when she was sure something would happen. Hope her powers actually were enough to break out when the time came.
The footsteps kept coming closer. Was someone visiting her?
“Hello, Icelus.”
Icelus looked at the wall and stepped back in shock. It was Piper – he was here!
Icelus ran up to the bars and tried to lunge through them. She wanted to bite him, rip at him, tear him up. But all he had to do was back away and he was safe. There was nothing she could do.
She lowered herself to a striking position. “What are you doing here?” she said, bile spewing out of every syllable.
“Just checking that they've got you locked up securely.” Piper flicked the metal bar and it made a ringing sound. “Looks good. We wouldn't want you getting out and ruining everything.”
“How did you sneak by the guards?”
Piper smiled. “I am a guard, silly. I volunteered. Nobody wants guard duty here, and it's not like anybody saw me last time I tried to break in. If they did, it still would've been seventy years ago now.”
Icelus growled. “Seventy years?”
“Oh, you were in the other world. Probably not quite that long for you.” Piper shrugged. “But yeah. About seventy years over here. Seventy years I've been planning this. And it's all gonna pay off tonight.”
“What happens tonight?”
“Tonight is blockbuster night!” he said, twirling around. “I gave one man the idea to write a book series, and then they turned those books into movies, and now the last one's going out tonight, and everyone will be watching as the evil Icelus is defeated forever! You can see where I got the inspiration, of course. It's gonna be huge. I even helped out with the publicity when I could,” he mused. “Poor Gordon. But it'll all be worth it. I think that be a big enough blow to the Shieldwork to shatter it forever.”
“Why?!” Icelus roared. “Why do you want to do this?!”
Piper stopped cold and looked at her. “The same reason I've always had,” he said. “To help my friend.”
Icelus snarled. “Canis.”
“Yes,” said Piper. “But more importantly, everyone like Canis. Nightmares who are weak and hopeless because of the Nexus. Because of a situation out of their control.”
“You would doom both worlds to endless stasis for them?”
“But it's not stasis, Icelus!” Piper wheeled around. “It's independence! Without the Nexus, both worlds will start to develop on their own. They won't be subjected to the whims of the other one. Everybody on both sides can grow, without having to worry about anything else besides themselves. The world won't come and shackle them down – the great can be truly great! The weak can become great!”
“You're a fool if you think that's what will happen,” growled Icelus.
“And you're a cynic,” said Piper. “More importantly, you're the loser. Now if you don't mind, I should go. We're probably about to get to the climax.”
And with that Piper turned and left the room. Icelus lunged out one more time in anger and frustration, but it was useless.
The door closed.
She had to summon up whatever power she could and break out of here. It was now or never.
Standing incredibly still, she reached inside herself and visualized a barrier, slowly pulsating. It began to expand, and to rupture, and then it burst, and all the energy inside spilled out -
Icelus lunged forward once more and slashed her claws.
Her paw bounced off the metal bars harmlessly.
Icelus collapsed onto the floor in despair. She didn't even have enough power to break out. And now her paw was sore. Whatever power she had mustered, it was only because Marc was there to amplify it. Without Marc, she was useless.
Icelus really wanted to see Marc. She at least wanted to apologize.

Marc was frozen to his seat.
Almost two hours and he really hadn't absorbed what was happening in this movie. His train of thought had been wrecked pretty early on. He had excused to go to the bathroom and remained in there for twenty minutes, thoughts wracking his head.
“Hey, man, you okay?” Austin had whispered to him when he got back and took his seat.
“Yeah, I'm fine,” Marc had replied.
There was no stopping this. Marc had had a crazy idea to run into the projectionist's booth and knock over the whole thing, stop the movie. But it would be pointless. There were other theaters showing Not the Same, Part II, not just in this building but all over the city, all over the country. It would be a drop in the bucket.
And now he was stuck here in a darkened room full of people who were paying rapt attention to the movie. He couldn't get out, he couldn't leave, and he really couldn't talk to anybody about why this was a horrible tragedy.
What could he possibly do?
The film was nearly over. It was the final action sequence. A giant, hulking CGI machine that was shaped like Icelus's sigil was burrowing into an underground city. It had gotten pretty far. Broken through the top, at least. Scenes of action and fighting aboveground interspersed with shots of other characters in this underground city fleeing in terror.
The heroine's love interest was among them. He was busy evacuating people when the drill crashed through the ceiling of the building he was in. Rocks fell. His leg was trapped. The drill began to bear down on him.
The heroine and main villain – Icelus was her name – were locked in a hand-to-hand fight on the deck of an aircraft. They hit each other and ducked into other rooms and used their environment. It was good fight choreography, really, but Marc wasn't in the mood to appreciate it.
What did hit him was when the heroine got up, looked out of the nearest window, and dived out of it – safely onto a nearby giant bird that as being flown by her companion.
Icelus, the villain, looked around and saw, with sudden horror dawning on her face, that her aircraft was on a collision course with the drill and she was too late to stop it.
And that was the climax of the movie's action – a huge crash as the drill exploded. It stopped working, and the heroine's love interest was safe. It was a relief to the audience and to the characters in the movie, but Marc saw the lavish spectacle and knew what it really was: the final act of violence against Icelus's sigil.
It was too late now.

Canis was just where Piper had left him – in a dark corner of the throne room. When Piper passed through the threshold, Canis slowly got up and started walking alongside him. His friend was weak and Piper had to keep an eye out for him as they walked toward the Shieldwork.
“It is done?” asked Canis.
“Yes,” said Piper. “Can't be more than a few minutes now.”
Sure enough, as they approached the Shieldwork, the criss-crossing lattice of shallow scars started to expand and deepen themselves, gouging more and more into the structure.
“It's happening,” Canis said. “It's finally... happening.”
“This can't be nicefor Icelus,” remarked Piper. “This is her spell – all of her power. She's probably suffering down there in her cell.”
“She is not our concern. It will pass.”
“It will,” said Piper. “The entire world is about to change.”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than the Shieldwork collapsed – slowly at first, then more rapidly, as the scars bore deep down and attacked the wall. It was a mental assault – the sum total of all the psychic energy of the theatergoers worldwide, their relief as the good guys won in the end.
“This really worked out well for everybody,” Piper said. “We get what we want, and the humans get a good time at the movies.”
“The fools,” Canis rattled. “They know nothing.”
“Oh, don't be too hard on them,” Piper smirked. “They just don't know the power of a good story when they see it.”
The Shieldwork was well and truly destroyed now. As chunks of it fell, they disappeared, vanishing into the ether. There was a large hole through which Piper and Canis could walk through, and they did so, Piper helping Canis up in his delicate state.
All that was left was to open the door into the Nexus.
It was exactly as Piper had remembered it – a gigantic bridge, adorned with complex architecture and spanning over a void so deep and so wide that it couldn't be comprehended. There was a considerable sense of disorientation when they moved from the finite space of the throne room to the infinite space of the void.
Piper walked to the beginning of the bridge and traced his spell circle patiently – he had time to do this. He noticed, bent down as he was, the half-scratched-out remnants of a spell circle a few feet away. It must have been the old one. Icelus hadn't even finished rubbing it out when she was exiled. Piper chuckled.
The final spell circle was a simple pattern of overlapping circles and crosses. Piper stood up, double- and triple-checked his handiwork, and concentrated.
He felt a crack, deep in the foundation of the Nexus. Good. He concentrated harder, and felt the crack spread. It splintered and shot forward, and dust billowed up, but Piper didn't break his concentration.
Now the great roars of collapsing earth were heard – crushing, smashing sounds. Piper allowed himself a brief look and found that a section of the bridge had simply fallen off, disappearing into the void, likely to never return.
And he closed his eyes again and set his jaw and mentally pushed even harder. The crashing and smacking noises multiplied tenfold, becoming unbearably loud – and then a final smash, louder than all the others put together, louder than anything Piper had ever heard, spread across the void.
Piper looked up.
The void was still. Where before there had been thoughtforms rushing across and dissipating into Oniron, now only stasis and silence remained. The bridge was gone, except for a small remaining portion on this end. It barely suggested the grandeur that had once occupied the space.
Ears still ringing, Piper let out a whoop.
“It's done!”
He had succeeded, after seventy years – the worlds were truly separate now. The Nexus had been destroyed.


Next