CHAPTER NINE
IN DREAMS
Where am I?
Mist surrounded me, coiling along the ground in ragged patches, blanketing everything in white. The air was cool and damp, holding the quiet still ness of early morning. I smelled pine and cedar and heard the soft splash of water, somewhere up ahead in the fog. I didn’t recognize my surroundings, but for some reason it all seemed vaguely familiar.
With nothing else to do, I started walking.
The mist slowly cleared away, revealing a small green pond encircled by pine trees. The faint babble of ducks echoed over the still ness, and several of the green-and-brown birds glided through the water toward a pale figure standing on the bank. I stopped and drew in a quiet breath, and for a moment I couldn’t move, afraid that the scene before me would dissolve and I’d be left chasing shadows.
She wore jeans and a white shirt, and her long, pale hair was tied in a ponytail, falling softly down her back. Her body was slender, more en-ergetic than graceful, her fingers quick as she tore bread crusts and tossed them into the water. There was a glow about her now, a f lickering halo of light, swirling with glamour and power. Against the darkness of the pond and trees, she looked bright and vivid and alive, a light burning against the shadows.
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For a moment, I just watched her, tossing crumbs into the water, smiling as the ducks swarmed over them. I knew this wasn’t real; the real Meghan was back in the Iron Realm as the powerful Iron Queen. I knew this was a dream; or perhaps I had died and faded away and didn’t know it yet. But seeing her still made my heart beat crazily, made me long to pull her close and let that light consume me. If it burned until there was nothing left, would that be such a terrible fate?
She must have heard me, or sensed my presence, for she turned and her blue eyes widened. “Ash?” she whispered, and the smile that crept over her face warmed me like the sun. “What are you doing here?” I couldn’t help but smile back. “I don’t know,” I told her, taking the hand she offered and letting her pull me close. “I think…this is a dream.” Her arms slipped around my waist, and I held her to me, closing my eyes. No burning fire, no searing light that turned me to dust, just the feel of Meghan in my arms. “Though I’d be happy if I never woke up.”
I felt her puzzled frown, and she pulled back to look at me, cocking her head. “Strange. I thought this was my dream.”
“Maybe it is.” I was having trouble thinking. The subtle shift of her body against mine, her hands tracing circles against my back, was driving me to distraction. “Maybe I’m not really here, and this will all disappear when you wake up, including me.” She held me tighter, and I smiled. “I wouldn’t care either way.” Something nagged at the back of my mind, something important that I had forgotten, beating against my subconscious like birds f luttering against a windowsill. Impatiently, I shoved it back, burying it in a dark corner of my mind. Whatever it was, I didn’t want to remember. Not 129/387
now. I didn’t want to see, feel or think of anything except the girl in front of me.
As I bent to kiss her, she slipped her hand beneath my shirt, tracing soft fingers over my bare skin, and from there it was easy to forget everything.
Later, we lay in the cool grass at the edge of the pond, Meghan leaning against a tree with my head in her lap, gazing up at the clouds. Her fingers twirled idle patterns in my hair, and I dozed contentedly, feeling no urge to move. If I had died and this was nonexistence, then so be it.
If I was sleeping still, then I had no intention of waking up.
“Ash?”
“Mmm?”
“Where have you been all these months? I mean…” She hesitated, twirling a strand of my hair around her finger. “I know you can’t come into the Iron Realm, but no one has seen any sign of you, anywhere. Or Puck, for that matter. What have you two been doing?”
“I was…looking for something, I think.” I reached up and trapped her hand in mine, bringing it to my lips. “I can’t remember now.” She freed her fingers, stroking my cheek with them. I closed my eyes and let myself drift. “You don’t think it could be important?”
“Maybe.” Truth was, I didn’t want to think about it. I was content here.
Whatever lay beyond this glen, this small pocket of dreams or reality or whatever it was, I didn’t want to know about. I couldn’t remember much, but I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it involved pain.
And I was tired of it. So much of my existence had been pain, or 130/387