Page 60 of Forging Darkness

A bubble of frustration wells up at my inability to control this dream. Seems like I’m stuck playing along.

“Silver took me to some sort of fortress in the mountains. I don’t know where it is, but there aren’t any easy ways in or out. It’s crawling with Fallen and Forsaken.” The words stumble out of me.

Dream Steel blinks a few times and then unwinds my arms from around his neck and takes a step back. I huff, feeling rebuffed.

“That’s oddly detailed for a dream,” he says as he knits his brow.

“Well, since this is my dream, I think I get to say what’s appropriate and not. Maybe we should stop talking about this and just kiss. If I’m going to have a dream with you in it, that’s what I want to be doing.”

Dream Steel isn’t shocked by my forwardness. Instead his mouth pulls into a frown. “Your dream?”

Now I’m not even sure Iwantto kiss him anymore. He’s being extremely difficult—very authentic Steel. My subconscious re-created him a little too faithfully. Boo.

“But . . . are you really here?” he asks.

Why do I feel like this is turning into a “who’s on first” conversation?

“Yes. Of course.”

“So this isn’t a dream.”

“Of course it’s a dream . . . isn’t it?”

“But yours or mine?”

I sigh. We’re talking in circles when we could be doing something so much more interesting. Typical.

Dream Steel glances over his shoulder. Our friends are still conversing, oblivious to our presence at the front of the room. He marches over to Greyson and waves a hand in front of his face. Greyson doesn’t make any indication that he sees Steel.

“What are you doing?” I ask as I make my way to the back of the room.

“Trying to get their attention. We need to find out if this is actually a dream or not.”

“How is waking up Dream Greyson going to help you figure that out?”

He stops clapping his hands in front of Ash’s nose to tilt his head in my direction. “Dream Greyson?”

I point at my friends one at a time. “Dream Greyson. Dream Sterling. Dream Ash and Dream Nova.”

He makes a sound deep in his throat that might be a chuckle but then refocuses on jarring one of them.

Heaving another sigh, I join him in front of Ash. Her facial expressions are happy as she laughs and jokes along with Nova and the twins, but underneath the merriment she looks tired, worn. There are dark rings beneath her eyes and even her curls seem to hang limply.

I do a quick check of the rest of the group and find similar hints of stress and exhaustion on all their faces.

“Why do they all look so worn?”

I’m speaking to myself, but Steel answers, straightening to look me in the eye. “None of us have gotten much rest since you were taken. We’re doing everything we can think of to locate you. It’s taken a toll.”

“My mind must be showing me what I’m hoping,” I mumble. “But I wish it showed everyone healthy.”

Reaching out, I pull one of Ash’s curls straight before letting it loose. A high-pitched squeal shoots out of her as she jumps from her seat.

“Something touched me!” she yells, head on a swivel until her gaze snags on me. “Emberly? Is that really you?”

“Yeah?” My dream friends are acting really weird. Is it possible . . . ?

In three steps she has me in a hug that’s part choke hold. “Are you all right? We’re all so worried.”

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