Night Shade (Dreamweaver, #1)

‘Watch me.’ A thought strikes me and I turn. ‘Anyway, what are you doing here?’


‘The same as you it seems’

I give him a sceptical look. ‘Right.’ I eye his all-black ensemble. ‘The grappling hook and the rope, that was you. Where did you get them from?’ If I was going to storm the building next to the Bubble, I’d need some equipment.

He’s surprisingly honest. ‘There’s a shop out by the Bubble that can be ... useful.’

‘Oh.’ I nod sagely, trying to make him think I already know it. ‘The haberdashery.’

‘Daberhashery.’

I roll my eyes. ‘That’s not even a word.’ Even if it’s the same word that Miller used.

Dante shrugs and grins and I want to poke out his eyes. There’s another noise down the corridor and suddenly I see the doctor motion in my direction. He raises his eyebrows and makes some complicated gesture. I have no idea what it means but when he calls for the guard and starts pointing at a spot in the wall and complaining loudly, I guess it has something to do with ‘I’ll make a cunning diversion so you can escape’.

I return Dante’s grin. Let him try and find his own way out of here.

‘Toodle pip.’ I dash off while the guard stares at Miller, puzzled. I sidle round the corner and escape out the front door.

***

Thanks to my rooftop survey, I have a better idea of the Dreamlands’ layout. I head in the direction of the Bubble, looking for the so-called ‘daberhashery’. It’s not long before I find it. Like the majority of the other buildings in this place, it’s a lowlying thatched cottage with a small chimney stack on the roof. What sets it aside is the sign hanging outside, proclaiming its status as a shop. I dig into my pockets. It’s not like I have any money on me. I wonder how on earth people pay.

I can’t make out anything from peering through the windows so I take a deep breath and walk inside. A bell announces my presence and a woman with close-cropped hair looks up.

‘Well, well, well. I was wondering how long it would take you to find me. You must be Zoe.’

I frown. She could be one of the people from Somnolence. I decide to tread carefully. ‘Yes,’ I tell her. ‘Who are you?’

‘I’m Esme, of course.’ She steps from behind the counter and takes my hand. Her touch is feather light and there’s something about it that feels wrong. I draw back without meaning to. ‘Ah,’ she says knowingly, ‘you sense it then. I wasn’t sure if you would.’

‘Sense what?’ I try not to let my suspicion show on my face but I have a feeling I don’t do a very good job.

‘I’m not quite like the other Travellers.’ She knits her hands together.

‘In what way?’

‘Let’s just say I’m more of a permanent fixture in the Dreamlands than you are.’

I step backwards, almost landing in the fireplace behind me. Esme isn’t frightening and I’m not getting any bad vibes about her like I did with the Mayor but her presence is oddly jarring though. However, if she doesn’t want to talk about it, then I won’t press her. I know what it feels like to be different to others and how annoying it can be to always have to explain yourself.

I glance around the shelves. There are all manner of objects here: smart phones, jewellery, several baskets containing what appear to be odd socks, and even a few rather fetching hats. ‘Where does all the stuff come from? Do other Travellers bring it?’

Esme smiles. ‘No. You can only bring in the clothes on your back.’

I think about the sugar cubes and wonder whether to tell her about them. I decide against it.

‘Things get lost,’ Esme continues, pointing to the sock baskets. ‘Have you ever wondered why so many socks get swallowed up in washing machines?’

I’m confused. ‘You mean they end up here? But this isn’t real.’

‘You’re here. I’m here.’

‘Yes, but...’ I scratch my head. There’s so much about the Dreamlands that I really don’t understand. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m looking for something pointy. And sharp.’

Her eyebrows fly up. ‘Like a knife?’

‘That’d be perfect.’ I realise how eager I sound and backtrack. ‘I, er, need it to whittle.’ I force a smile. ‘I love whittling. Do you have anything that would work?’

Her expression doesn’t flicker. ‘Sorry, Zoe. The Mayor takes all potential weapons away as soon as they arrive.’

Of course he does. ‘How about something heavy then?’

She purses her lips. ‘There’s this,’ she says, nodding towards a gleaming statue of a Buddha.

I pick it up. It certainly is heavy; I could probably hit someone over the head with it. It’s not very practical though.

‘Will that help with your whittling?’ Esme asks politely.

I look at her sharply but she is still smiling at me. Hmm. My eyes alight on a bag of marbles. They could work.

‘How about those?’ I cough. ‘If I can’t whittle then I can play marbles.’