I looked around at the endless, empty landscape. “If this is a dream, that means I can direct it, doesn’t it?”
“What, like lucid dreaming? Don’t do that. It’s annoying. You know that actually steals magic back from this place. Plain frustrating.”
Which didn’t mean I couldn’t do it. And that meant I didn’t have to stand here half naked. I imagined the black pants I’d been wearing before I’d gone to bed, the way they looked, the softness of the leather. The sand crawled up my legs, which was a totally weird sensation, but between one blink and the next I went from half naked to wearing pants. Well, mostly. Something was wrong with the pants that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. The way things are sometimes just off in a dream. Like I was looking at them through distorted glass. Still, at least I wasn’t half naked anymore.
I looked up to find Kyran frowning at me. He’d taken his legs off the arm of the chair and rotated forward, focused. “Didn’t I say not to do that.”
“What? You do. Or are you going to say that intimidating throne that follows you around isn’t made completely out of dream sand?”
“Yeah, but I live here.”
Point. I bowed my head, acknowledging that I was in the wrong, but I didn’t apologize. I’d needed the pants, damn it.
“You asked for this meeting. Surely it wasn’t simply to leach away magic from my land,” he said, propping both elbows on his knees and managing to sound both annoyed and bored. I wasn’t sure if he was agitated that I’d manipulated his realm or just that I knew I could.
But he was right—I had asked to meet. Not in these circumstances and I sure as hell would have preferred a more neutral ground, but I was here now. I looked around for a place to sit. There was, of course, nothing besides the throne where Kyran perched and the sand. I briefly considered dreaming up a chair, but I didn’t want to piss off the kingling right before asking for information. That likely wouldn’t go over well.
So, I shoved my hands in the back pockets of my dream pants and stood.
“The nightmares are stuck here without a door, right? They can’t be conjured up in the mortal realm?”
Kyran’s brow pinched, and he studied my face, clearly wondering where this line of questioning was headed. “You mean waking dreams? The kind where the dreamer drags his nightmares home to haunt him long after he leaves his bed? That was one of the High King’s fears. Nightmares growing too strong and walking out into the waking world in the mortal realm. It was why he severed this realm from the rest of Faerie. In its current state, nothing escapes without a door.”
I started to nod, and then stopped. I’d opened a door to the mortal realm the last time I’d been here. I’d had no other choice. The citizens of Nekros had rather vivid nightmares that night, but no unusual deaths had been reported. I was pretty sure he was implying that without a door like I’d opened, the nightmares were stuck. But implication left a lot of wiggle room.
Were there other ways to open a door? I knew Glitter was made from distilled glamour and that somehow fears were manifesting. Could the users become doorways?
“A penny for your thoughts, planeweaver.”
I’d been quiet too long, Kyran studying me intensely. I picked my words carefully. “Do you know if any of the nightmares left in the last few days? Or maybe . . . projected into the mortal realm, somehow?” Because that could be a possible explanation, couldn’t it?
Kyran tapped his steepled fingers together. “There are no days here. Only dreams.” He smiled his Cheshire Cat grin.
That so didn’t answer my question. Of course, he was under no obligation to answer my questions, and I’d asked him several without him asking me anything in return. I had to be careful or he might try to open a bargain in retrospect. They weren’t very binding, but I’d nearly been caught in one once before. Which meant I’d better start offering up information if I didn’t want to stumble into a debt. Not that Kyran was being horribly helpful.
Something caught at the edge of my attention, and I turned, searching the darkness. Nothing. I focused on Kyran once more, but tried to keep an eye on my peripheral vision.
“There is a new drug in Nekros. The people who take it, their fears come alive. Hallucinations given form.” I hesitated before continuing, though I was sure he guessed what I was getting at. “Maybe, their nightmares coming to life.”
“Alex.”
I froze. I’d definitely heard my name. And it wasn’t Kyran who’d said it. I twisted, glancing at the unending darkness and sand all around us. There was only the two of us.
Kyran leaned back in his throne, tapping one long finger against his jaw. “I think someone is trying to wake you. We are running out of time.”
And he hadn’t answered any of my questions.
“Alex.”