Bad Dreams & Broken Hearts 19: “The parts of Nightmare that dreaming humans can find are a fucking petting zoo.”

At the gatehouse to Summerisle we stopped for Marji to tell the guards that she would be expecting some contractors. Then when we got to the house she went down to the bedroom to make calls while Jake fixed some strong drinks.

Karin lifted her rum to clink the glass against Jake's whiskey. She gave him a big grin. “You were amazing. You went down that alley like Warchief Smith.” She drained half her glass then turned to me. “That big dope was getting all up in Jake's face, saying, 'Yer not authoritized' and Jake just keeps on going.”

Jake looked over at me. “I assume you made him fall asleep?”

Before I could answer Karin said, “Yeah—that was cool, too. Just scooped him right out of his body. I've never seen anything like that before.”

“I'd just as soon we kept that part our little secret, okay?” I said.

Karin grinned and stuck out her hand, “Secret Squad oath of loyalty!”

I took it and we shook.

Karin slammed back the rest of her drink and put the empty glass on the bar. “Hit me again, Warchief!”

Jake frowned for a moment, then filled her glass. “We're not out of danger yet,” he said darkly.

“Relax,” Karin said, lifting the glass. “I am the Sorceress Supreme! This bag ain't going nowhere.”

Jake took a morose sip of his own drink. “Even if we do survive this,” he said, “we're all going to prison forever.”

Karin gave a mock-pout. “Sorry you met me, Hammerhead?”

Jake smiled at her, “Never, Princess.” After a moment he added, “I could have lived without meeting some of your friends, though.”

Karin looked suddenly glum. “I never wanted to get you in trouble. I thought all this was in the past forever.”

“Hey, kid,” Jake said seriously. “Your troubles are my troubles.”

“Our troubles are going to have troubles with us,” I added and lifted my own glass. We clinked them together.

Marji came up then. Jake offered her a glass and she took it.

“Beckett's got us covered. We'll have a three man team watching the house tonight. They're on the way, and the gate's watching for them,” Marji said.

“That's a heck of a favor,” Karin remarked.

Marji shrugged. “He's an old friend.” She turned to me. “These men are just armed guards—they don't have any magical protections.”

“I'll keep watch,” I told her, “but I don't think he'll try anything tonight. Like Jake said, Summerisle isn't easy to get into. And I'm sure he knows who I am now.”

“He could try to stop Grandmother Wolf from getting to the City,” Marji said.

“That's why she took a Ferose ship,” Karin said. “He won't mess with them.”

Marji looked doubtful.

“The forged are tough,” I said, “and Xor doesn't play politics. Tak can't risk an incident with Ferose.”

“His best move is to hit Grandmother Wolf between the docks and Government House,” Jake said. “That's when we need to be on guard. We'll stay here until it's time to meet the ship. Once we leave tomorrow afternoon we'll be targets until we get her in to see the mayor. So we'd best rest up while we can.”

“Tomorrow morning I'll go to see the mayor myself,” I said. “I'll fill him in.”

“Is that wise?” Jake asked. “Couldn't you just call him instead?”

“He's a dragon,” I pointed out. “He doesn't use phones.”

“So you'll need somebody to drive you,” Marji said.

I shook my head. “I won't go in the flesh.”

“I'll go with you,” Karin volunteered.

“That's an idea,” I said. I meant, 'a really bad idea' but I didn't feel like arguing about it then.

“Jake's right,” Marji said, “we should get some sleep.”

She stood and held out her hand to Jake. He got up and took it, and then Karin got to her feet to take Marji's other hand.

Me, I turned to the bookcase to find the detective novel I'd started the other night. They could sort things without my help.

I finished the book—the good guy got the girl, the murderer went down in a hail of bullets—and found another. I had just gotten to the part where the cop is told by his boss to lay off the investigation—yeah, as if—when Marji came up the stairs with her head on backwards.

Her gown was a fantasia of lace that flowed a good four steps behind her and was hanging open so that her cloud of red hair—drifting in a breeze that I could not feel—covered her breasts. Even asleep, the woman knew how to make an entrance.

I stuck a finger in my book to hold my place and considered my options. I could avoid her. Humans in dreamstate were like blind infants. On the other hand, something had drawn her sleeping consciousness out of her body and into this room.

I sighed. If she thought that there was unfinished business between us it was best to get it over with.

I slid out of my body and went to her. I put my hands on her head and twisted it around to face forward. Her lips were red and moist, her eyes glistened.

“Hey, Marji,” I said. “What's on your mind?”

“Sam,” she husked, “You shouldn't be here. Jake's asleep downstairs.”

“So are you, Marji,” I said. “You're dreaming.”

“We mustn't” she whispered, pressing herself to me. Her dream body was exaggerated, her breasts as large as pumpkins. She draped an arm over my shoulder and it curled, flexible as a cat's tail, around my neck. “Not here, Sam. Not with Jake so close.”

I stepped back, trying to push her away. Her body felt like a half-inflated air mattress, boneless and awkward. Despite her words she was trying to kiss me. I got a hand up to block her and felt her lips latch onto my palm, sucking like a lamprey.

“Marji,” I told her sternly. “You're dreaming. If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise, I'd appreciate it if you'd leave me alone.”

“Sam, we mustn't,” she repeated, clinging to me. Her legs had wrapped around mine. It felt like being embraced by snakes.

I didn't want to hurt her, but I didn't want her hanging on me anymore, either. I peeled her off like I was stripping out of wet clothes. The whole time she was murmuring about Jake being downstairs and that we shouldn't do anything in their house.

For the record, we never had done anything in their house, only at my apartment. Jake may have consented to my having sex with his wife, but I wouldn't do it under his roof.

“Don't let me stop you,” Karin said from behind me.

I turned quickly. Karin was sitting on the sofa, so clear and solid that at first I thought that she was there in the flesh. Her ability to visualize was truly extraordinary.

I turned back to Marji. She was trying to get up, but her limbs kept losing their rigidity. I leaned down to look her in the eye.

“It's okay, Marji,” I told her. “This is just a dream. Get some rest.”

“Oh, Sam,” she husked back at me, squirming on the floor, “you were the best I ever had.”

Behind me Karin laughed, but it sounded a touch bitter.

“She's asleep, Karin,” I told her, moving back towards my body. “You can't take what she says too seriously.”

“I'm asleep,” Karin shot back.

“You're in a trance,” I said. “It's not quite the same thing. And you've got an abnormally well disciplined mind for a human.”

“Uh, thanks?” she said again, and laughed. “I think?”

Marji was moaning and inching across the floor.

Karin got up and walked slowly towards Marji, then squatted down beside her.

“Karin...” I began, putting a warning tone in my voice.

She ignored it and looked at Marji's dreaming form, grinning. “Now, what can we do with you?”

“Nothing,” I said sharply. “Not unless you want to start something with me.”

Karin turned her grin on me. “Jealous?”

I shook my head. “Jealously has nothing to do with it. You don't assault dreaming humans.”

Karin raised an eyebrow. “You do.”

“There are rules that you don't understand,” I said sternly. “She's completely helpless and vulnerable right now. You have no idea how much damage you could do.”

“Oh, really?” Karin's grin turned wicked.

“Really,” I said, walking towards the two of them. “You want to know what magic is so heavily regulated? It's because you can kill with it. And worse.”

“Worse than death, huh?” Karin still wasn't taking me seriously.

“Things you can't imagine,” I told her, putting as much menace in my voice as I could.

“Real nightmares, right?” she asked. “Like you lot do?”

“The parts of Nightmare that dreaming humans can find are a fucking petting zoo,” I snapped. “Oneoroi shepherd the dreamers. We harvest ectoplasm from you—emotional energy given a physical form. It's like milking a cow. Dairy farmers don't hurt their cows.”

Karin turned to me then, Marji forgotten for the moment. “Oh, that's flattering.”

“It is,” I told her seriously. “You are useful to us. If you weren't you'd never have lasted this long. Believe me. If any of the Realms—if any medium sized faction from any of the Realms—ever decided to go to war with the Midworld the human race wouldn't last a week. Because even mages have to sleep sometime. You're focused and on guard now, but how long can you keep that up? How long before you have to relax? A few days, maybe?”

Karin was looking at me wide-eyed. I had finally gotten through to her.

“There are rules,” I said. “There are agreements that are older than humanity. Lines that you don't dare cross. And right now you don't even know where they are. Listen to me when I tell you something.”

She nodded slowly, looking thoughtful.

“Leave Marji alone,” I said slowly and carefully. “She'll go back to her body by morning. She won't remember any of this, and you will not mention it to her. Am I making myself clear?”

Again she nodded. “Roger that, Sam.”

“There is an unbridgeable gulf between the oneiroi and humanity, and the name of that gulf is sleep,” I explained. “It is a vulnerability that you can never overcome. We can come into your minds and tear you apart from the inside, and you cannot stop us. You spend a third of your lives entirely helpless. Nightmare can take whatever it wants from you, whenever it wants. Be grateful that it doesn't want much.”

She shook her head. “Well if you aren't the most arrogant son of a—”

I jammed my fist into her mouth and grabbed her tongue. Her eyes got big as saucers.

“You need to give some serious thought to how you end that sentence,” I hissed at her. “Think about who and what my parents are. Think about the fact that they might be watching me right now.”

She started to struggle. I held onto her tongue. It wasn't wet like her physical body would be. Then I could see what I said sink in and she got very still. After a moment she nodded her head almost imperceptibly, and I let go.

“...lord of Nightmare,” she finished in a hoarse whisper.

“Arrogant?” I pondered. “Maybe so. I like human beings, I really do. I choose to live in the Midworld rather than in Messidor.”

“Guess you're slumming?” Karin asked with a sideways grin.

I started to snap back at her, then shut my mouth. Was I slumming? I remembered the Grimm's words about remembering my true allegiance. Why did I live in the Midworld? For late night jam sessions and absinthe and other men's wives? But where else would I go?

The City Of Dreadful Joy, to learn weaving and pattern dancing, go prowling for enemies so I could ambush them by reciting insulting poetry to them in front of a crowd? Constantly looking over my shoulder to see who was angling for a better position in the court? I knew I wasn't human, but I definitely wasn't a norn, either.

Maybe Hunger City. The Grimm's offer of friendship seemed genuine, or as genuine as anything in Nightmare ever was. I could be a superstar there, as greedy as the morauxe were for Midworld music and culture. I didn't want to be a superstar. I wanted to be comfortable and unknown.

That might not be an option, though.

Karin had seen that I had gone quiet, and her face grew serious, afraid that she had gone too far.

I sighed. “Maybe I am slumming, but I like it here. I like Marji and Jake, and I went to a lot of trouble to help you out because I'm their friend.”

“I know,” Karin said, her eyes downcast. “I didn't mean anything by that...”

“Yes, you did,” I told her without heat. “And like I say, maybe you're right. Things have changed so much since I was a child. The universe is smaller than it used to be. You're what, twenty?”

“Twenty-three,” she said quickly, as if I'd insulted her.

“When did you first see an oneoroi?” I asked. “In the flesh, I mean. One that was physically here in the City.”

“We had a field trip to see the refinery at Highpoint,” she said. “There was an undine who told us all about how 'lix was made. She was in a huge tank—talked to us through these speakers. She could hear us, too. A couple of the kids got to ask questions.”

“How old were you?” I asked.

She screwed up her face, thinking. “They'd just built it—everything was brand new. Maybe ten?”

“Today half the ships on the docks are from Nightmare,” I said, “You can see oneoroi all over—”

“Where's Marji?” Karin asked suddenly.

I turned. She wasn't on the floor by the stairs any more. I shrugged. “Back to her body, probably. Humans don't dream all night long, you know.”

Karin got up. “I'll go check.”

She sped down the stairs and was back a moment later, looking horror struck.

“What happened?” I asked, worried. “Did you find her?”

She nodded slowly. “Oh, she's okay. She's with Jake.”

It took me a moment to get her point. Then I laughed. “Oh, I get it. Well, that happens.”

Karin still looked ill. “Yeah, but they're all.... melty.”

Her face made me laugh harder. “You haven't seen a lot of dreaming humans, have you?”

She frowned at me. “No.”

I stopped laughing. A thought struck me. “Your teacher, Mr. Vetch, recognized your work as pictures of Nightmare, right?”

“Yeah,” Karin looked glum. “That's how he knew I had talent.”

“How did you get there?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” she asked. “I got there in dreams.”

“Obviously,” I said, “but I mean, how did your spirit body cross the dreamsea?”

“Like the thing with the firespiders?” she asked. “I never did that. I was... just there.”

I sat back and chewed that over. “Usually a human mage starts dreaming lucidly in the Midworld, and then has to learn to cross the dreamsea, either by creating a construct or harnessing a landspirit or catching a ride with an oneiroi vessel. You didn't do any of that?”

She shook her head. “No. When I had my vivid dreams they were always about Nightmare. Even when I was a little kid.”

“Amazing,” I said. “You're a native traveler. That's rare. No one ever told you that?”

“No,” she said slowly. “What's a native traveler?”

“It means that you have a gift for opening gates between the worlds,” I explained. “Unbelievable. You've got that kind of talent and you can't get a license to practice magic in the Midworld.”