My eyes are still on the Chairman. He’s stopped rolling around now and is staring at me in surprise – not that I blame him. ‘Hey, kitty,’ I say shakily. I walk towards him.
He bounds up to me and snakes round my legs. A deep throaty purr buzzes from his body and I smile. I glance back at my house and realise I’ve left the door wide open. Rolling my eyes, I go back and close it. That’s when the panic really hits. My throat starts to close up and pins and needles prickle my skin.
‘Goddamnit,’ I hiss.
I pull out my keys and try to lock up. It doesn’t matter what I do though, I can’t get any of the keys into any of the locks because my hands are shaking so much. Then a door bangs from across the street. I look over my shoulder and see Mr Reynolds, the offshore worker who lives there with his wife and kids. He’s staring at me with his mouth wide open.
It’s too much. I jerk open the door and rush back inside, slamming it shut behind me. Without thinking, I fasten every lock again, then back away to my favourite step where I can sit and watch the door. Epic fail.
Dropping my bag on the floor beside me, I set my chin. Daytime is too much. Everything’s too wide and too open. There are too many people around. If I can wait until evening and head out under the cover of darkness, things will be much better. It’s not procrastination – it’s being sensible.
***
I should sit down at the computer again and do some work; Jerry will be starting to wonder what’s wrong with me. But I can’t blithely get on with coding when one of the mares is suffering out in the Dreamlands. If I’m going to be out all night at the cemetery, I should get some sleep now. Maybe I can find the mare on my own and free her.
I loosen the laces on my trainers but I don’t take them off. Instead, I lie down on my bed and close my eyes. It’s not long since I last slept but if I calm down, I should be able to send myself into a doze. I try some of my meditation techniques and most of my tension drains away, but it’s a long time before I finally drift off.
The moment I’m in the forest again with my ears prickling, I set off. I don’t want to waste any time. I stay alert; I have no desire to bump into Dante. I’m becoming more adept at moving swiftly through the trees and I make good time. It’s not long before I reach the first of my marked trees.
‘Zoe from the quiet lands,’ says a familiar voice to my right.
I blink. I’d almost forgotten about Lilith. I don’t particularly want to see her again, though, and talking to her will only hold me up.
‘Hi Lilith,’ I say. ‘Got to go.’
She moves faster than I’d have thought possible, swerving to block my path. ‘We need to talk.’ She bares her teeth.
‘I’m busy,’ I tell her shortly.
‘Don’t care.’ She points at one of the trees, her index finger lightly brushing along the Z. ‘You did this.’
Ah. She’s probably annoyed at the graffiti. Or maybe gouging into it hurt the tree itself. My stomach drops. ‘Er...’
‘When?’ She cocks her head and her mane of black hair falls across her face, half covering it. She flips it back in a well-practised movement.
I shrug. I’ve completely lost track of the days. ‘Last week perhaps? I’m sorry. It’s just I keep waking, I mean apparating, here and I didn’t want to get lost. I won’t do it again.’
She regards me expressionlessly. ‘Do you know what you’ve done?’
‘I said I’m sorry,’ I mutter. ‘I really do have to go.’ I sidestep to go round her.
Lilith reaches out towards me, exposing her long, graceful arms. For a moment, I think she’s going to grab me but she merely slides one hand down my forearm then pulls away and sniffs her fingers. There’s something so predatory about the action that I almost seize up but I quash the feeling. I can’t afford to lose control in this world as well as the real world.
I sidle round her. It means I get a shudder of cold from the tree I brush against but it’s better than touching her. Without looking back, I march away.
‘Dreamweaver,’ she calls out.
I halt. ‘What did you say?’
‘You are one.’
I slowly turn round. ‘One what?’
A knowing smile plays on her lips. ‘A dreamweaver. It’s been a long time since we’ve had one of your kind. No wonder they’re all frightened.’
I look in her eyes. Despite the smile, they’re cold and hard. ‘What is a dreamweaver?’
She reaches out for the little Z again. ‘Dreamweavers change things. They control.’
I almost snort. The last thing I’m capable of is control. ‘Forget it,’ I mutter.
‘Learn quickly, weaver. We need you.’