Lair of Dreams (The Diviners #2)

Evie propped herself up on her elbows. “You’re telling me that Henry, our Henry, can walk… in dreams?”


“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Henry’s a Diviner.” Theta tore into her handbag and pulled out her silver cigarette case. “Evil, you gotta let me smoke or I’m gonna chew all my fingernails off.”

Evie made a face before waving her approval, and Theta slipped a cigarette free and tapped the end of it against the case’s hard shell. “You remember at Christmas, when Henry asked you to read his hat because he was trying to find Louis?”

“Yes. I wasn’t much help, though.”

“Well, Henry finally found Louis in the dream world,” Theta said, lighting up and taking a drag deep into her lungs. “That ain’t all. He’s met another dream walker. A girl named Ling, lives in Chinatown. Every night, they’ve been meeting inside dreams and walking around. He thinks I don’t know, but I do.”

“Gee, sounds like a swell talent. So what’s got you all balled up about it?”

“You know how you get sick if you read too much? It’s the same with Henry and dreams. We had a deal—no more than one hour a week. Evil, he’s walking every night now, and I don’t even know how long he’s under. He’s missed rehearsals, and even when he shows up, he isn’t really there. His mind’s on dreams,” Theta said on a stream of cigarette smoke. “He’s the only family I got.”

“What can we do? You want me to come with you and we’ll sit Henry down?”

“Lecturing Hen won’t help. But this lecture might.” Theta pulled out a newspaper advertisement and shoved it into Evie’s hands.

“‘The Society for Ethical Culture presents World-Renowned Psychoanalyst Carl Jung: Symposium on Dreams and the Collective Unconscious,’” Evie read. “Gee, say that three times fast.”

“We got a dream question, we go to the dream expert.”

“‘Eight o’clock in the evening on January…’” Evie stopped reading. “Theta, that’s tonight!”

“Yeah. So you’d better get moving. It’s gonna be a full house. I’ll meet you there on the front steps of the Ethi-Whatchamacallit at seven thirty.”

“Theta, I can’t. Sam and I are going to the pictures tonight—the theater owners asked for us in particular. They’ve got a special projector that can play sound on film! Isn’t that the elephant’s eyebrows?”

“Yeah. Terrific. Listen, tell Lover Boy there’s been a change of plans. If he’s gonna be married to you, he’ll have to get used to that.” Theta squinted hard at Evie. “Whatsa matter? You’re making a face like you got caught stealing cookies from an orphanage.”

“No, I’m not.”

“That proves it. You’re definitely guilty of something. Spill.” Theta folded her arms and waited.

“Oh, all right.” Evie sighed. “I need to confess to somebody before I go mad. This romance with Sam? It’s a publicity stunt.”

Theta slapped her hand on the bed. “I knew it! I smelled something as phony as your new accent!”

“Hey!”

“I know you’re crackers, Evil, but I’m glad to see you’re not that crackers. So was I right about you and Jericho?”

Evie hung her head. “It was just the one time. Oh, Theta. I’m such a terrible friend. I am the worst friend ever!”

“Don’t get fulla yourself. I’m not crowning you for it,” Theta grumbled. She drew hard on her cigarette. “If you’re really goofy for Jericho, you should tell Mabel. If he’s not dizzy for her, well, she can’t be sore at you about it.”

“Oh, yes, she can! You don’t know Mabel. Beneath that bleeding heart lies a grudge factory.”

“Well, she can’t stay sore at you forever—especially if you’ve spared her months of batting her peepers at a boy she can’t have.”

“But what if I don’t really like Jericho enough, not in the way he likes me or the way that Mabel likes him? Then I’ve led him on. Toyed with his affections and broken Mabel’s heart for a selfish whim.” Evie pulled the blanket up to her chin. “And then there’s Sam.”

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