A Knight Of The Word

“The dream goes like this. I’m standing on a hill south of Seattle watching the city burn. Like all the old dreams I had as a Knight of the Word, it takes place in the future. The Void has besieged the city and taken it. Their is a battle going on. I am not a Knight of the Word in this dream, and I am not involved in the fighting. But I am standing there with captives all around me, and in the dreams of late, I am their captor. I don’t understand why this is, but I am.

“Then an old man approaches, and he accuses me of killing someone long ago. He says he was there, that he saw me do it. He says I killed Simon Lawrence, the Wizard of Oz, in Seattle, on Halloween. He says I killed him at the art museum. He doesn’t say it exactly that way. He says it happened in the Emerald City, in the glass palace, in the shadow of the Tin Woodman. But I know what he means. The art museum is mostly glass and outside there is a piece of sculpture called Hammering Man, a metal giant pounding his hammer on a plate. There’s no mistaking what he means. Besides, in the dream I can remember it happening, too. I can’t remember the details — maybe because I don’t know them. But I know he is telling the truth.”

He stopped talking as the waitress arrived with their food. When she departed, he bent forward to continue.

“I didn’t learn this all at once. It was revealed in pieces. But I put the pieces together. I knew what the dream was telling me. But I didn’t believe it. There is no reason for me to kill Simon Lawrence. I respect and admire him. I want to work for him as long as he’ll let me. Why would I ever even consider killing him? When you asked me yesterday about the dream, I didn’t see any point in going into it. Whether or not I was a Knight of the Word, I wouldn’t let the events of the dream ever happen. To tell you the truth, I was afraid that the dream was a tactic by the Word to bring me back into line, to scare me into changing my mind about serving. I even considered the possibility that it was the work of the Void. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to allow it to affect me.”

She was wolfing down her club sandwich as he talked, but her eyes were fixed on him. He glanced down at his own food, which he had not touched. He took a sip of his iced tea.

“Last night, after the fire, I had the dream again.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why. I never do. The dreams dust come. It was the same dream, with the same troubling aspects. But this time there was a new wrinkle. The old man reminded me of something else. He said that I had killed another person at the same time as I killed Simon Lawrence. He said it was a young woman, someone I knew.”

She stopped eating and stared at him. “I know,” he said quietly. “I felt the same way. The shock woke me. I was awake after that until it was light, thinking. I don’t believe it could ever happen. I don’t think I would let it.”

His voice thickened. “But in the dream, it had, so I can’t discount the possibility that I might be wrong. I also remember what I was sent to do in Hopewell five years ago. If I was prepared for it to happen once…”

He trailed off, his hands knotting before him, his eyes shifting away. “I’ve gambled as much as I dare to with this business. I don’t know if there’s a demon out there or not. I don’t know if the Void is setting a trap for me. I don’t know what’s gaping on. But whatever it is, I don’t want you involved. At least not any further than you already are. I want you to get on a plane right now and get out of here. Get far away, so far away, you can’t possibly be a part of whatever happens next.”

She nodded slowly. “And what happens to you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know yet. I have to figure that out. But I can tell you one thing. I’m not so sure anymore I’m not in danger.”

She finished the last of her sandwich and wiped her mouth carefully, wincing as she brushed one of the deeper cuts on her chin. “Good for you,” she said. There was neither approval nor condemnation in her voice. Her gaze was steady. “But you don’t know the half of it. Let me tell you the rest.”



She was shaken by the revelations of his dream and more than a little frightened and angered by the idea that she might be his target once again, but she kept it all hidden. She could not afford to let her feelings interfere with her purpose in coming to him in the first place. She could stew about the ramifications of his having had such a dream later, but for now she must concentrate on convincing him he needed to do something to protect himself.