I remembered Quarn’s words. Lucas was the emperor.
Deralick continued, adding to my confusion. “The council’s in session at the moment. Hence the extra patrols. Grandier’s security is top rate.”
“Grandier?” Lucy questioned.
His face was expressionless as he stared at her. “The name of the planet.” He shook his head, muttering quickly, “Field addled their brains.” He smiled without much emotion and spoke. “I’m sure you just use ‘First World’. I know most, under the age of a hundred and fifty, prefers Grandier’s decidedly unoriginal nickname.”
I looked at Lucy. She had the same ‘oh shit’ expression as I had. Longevity of inhabitants – unknown. But one thing confirmed. We were most definitely no longer on Earth. Dreamland was Grandier, with the apparent nickname of First World.
Deralick straightened, his features creased in worry.
Not liking his expression I distracted him with a subject change. “I’m Abby and this is Lucy.”
Lucy waved, her blond hair sticking out in all directions, some type of dirt caked along her forehead, along with a light scrape on her right cheek. But she still had that sweet trusting face. Her deceptive looks were handy.
I shoved the tray back to the end of the bed. As I rubbed the bridge of my nose to release some sinus pressure, I realized the pounding head pain was back again.
Attempting to gather my woolly thoughts, I spoke without thinking. “I’m here to find dreamland. And my mother.”
Did I just say dreamland? I shook my head in an attempt to clear it.
Deralick stood and retrieved the tray from where it was haphazardly flung at the end of the bed.
I sank back into the pillows.
“Something is happening...” Lucy’s words were slightly slurred. Then, without warning she collapsed into the pillow.
He stopped in the doorway. “I hope you can understand. I have a job and I take it seriously. Whether I believe you or not, I have no choice but to report all intruders for assessment.”
I waited for panic – or any emotion – but nothing.
“You’ll be interrogated by the royal council. If they find you innocent, you’ll be free to go.”
I was slipping further into unconsciousness.
With my last functioning neurons came the thought: the stew was drugged. Well, that was rude – if you can’t trust strangers bearing food, who can you trust?
“It’s only laven juice. It won’t harm you. In fact, you’ll have a restful, healing sleep,” he said as he exited the room.
Well, at least we weren’t dying – a faint shimmer of relief before I drifted off.
The dreams hit me fast. I was standing in the throne room of a castle. People were collapsing all around me, crying, begging and clinging to one another. I walked through the white marble hall unnoticed, seeing nothing to cause such chaos. I made my way up to the large chairs and stopped at the center pedestal. Resting on top was a purple pillow cushioning a pair of intertwined stones. One was my blue stone with a smaller red one sitting perfectly in its large side indent.
The royal pair.
The room disappeared. I found myself standing at the base of a black mountain. It took me a few moments to figure out why everything looked so dark. It was all dead. Withered black plant tendrils curled around my boots. I shuddered. Even in the dream an oily darkness coated the air. My instincts were telling me to run, to leave, and never return. The world started to move in fast-forward, swirling before me. Backing up, I tried to escape, moving and falling...
I regained control of my consciousness.
As I sat up, my eyes flew open. A low light threaded the room. Lucy was still asleep, or passed out. I knew, instinctively, we needed to escape from here now.
Reaching over, I shook Lucy a few times, with the same result as the night before: no movement, just deep breathing. I had no time to delay.
Looking left and right I spotted a large opaque jug on top of the nightstand. I grabbed the vessel. Water splashed over the side, onto my hand. Feeling a little desperate, I flicked some drops at Lucy. She didn’t stir. Looking down at the jug, I sighed, she was going to kill me. I dumped the lot over her head.
“What ... where ... what the hell?” she muttered, sitting up quickly.
Her eyes were wide, but still held the haze of sleep. She wrinkled her nose before sneezing loudly, and then she fell straight back into the pillows.
Oh, for the love of...
“Get up, Lucy. We need to get out of here before Deralick ‘drug-pimp’ hands us over to the guards.”
One eye squinted as she shook her head a few times, water droplets flying off in all directions. Pulling herself up to sit, she eventually opened both eyes. It took a moment before she turned to me calmly.
“Abby ... there’d better be an outrageously good reason for why I’m wet.”
I shrugged, attempting to unobtrusively nudge the jug off the bed. “I have no idea why. You were like that when I woke.”