Page 156 of Trials of Dusk and Dreams
Geraldine and Max are slumped against the wall, sleeping with their heads together. But their faces are pinched with dismay. I fall to my knees beside them, the ground beneath me shifting like sand. Their skin is clammy and cool to the touch, unlike the feverish heat radiating from my skin, from the brand on my palm.
“Max! Wake up.” He groans but doesn’t rouse.
I move to Geraldine. Do the same. Then I slap her face.
Her brow furrows and her lashes flutter, but she doesn’t wake. She jerks as though hit, and a welt forms on the side of her face. Shit—did I disrupt her focus in the dream? I glance over my shoulder and scour the specters. There. Her ghostly figure clutches her jaw, pointing a sword at someone I can’t see.
I hunt around her body. Behind her on the floor is a scroll and Rory’s dagger. She must have put it down when she put her hand in the bowl. I place it in her palm—pressing it hard against the brand mark and shouting in her face, “Fucking wake up, you stupid cow!”
She gasps awake, eyes wide. “What the fuck?”
Relief punches a laugh out of me. A sob. She’s awake.
“That was a dreamscape,” I blurt. “Quick, help me wake Max. The gloves.”
Thank the Well, she doesn’t fight me. I fish into Max’s pockets and pull out the lacy gloves. They hum with power, with violence. I hand her one, and she tugs it onto his hand while I fit the other hand.
“I hope this works,” I mutter, pressing the glove where his brand is. Pain seems to be some kind of grounding force. He roars alive like the undead, body pulled to his feet by an invisible force. We duck in time to avoid his flailing fists, and he stumbles forward. “You were dreaming, Max!”
He pivots, eyes wild, sees Geraldine, then glares at me.
“She woke us up, Max,” she says, about to sheath her dagger.
“Don’t!” I shout, palm out. I show her the silver ball. “Metal and the pain keep us from being pulled back into the dreamscape. Don’t let go, just in case.” I look at Max. “The magical gloves must be enough to keep you grounded in reality.”
He winces, nodding. “They fucking hurt! But it’s good. They feel strong. Like I can Hulk smash.”
Geraldine quickly redraws the dagger and opens her palm. “The brand—it’s a big circle welt. Kind of dusky.”
“It’s our connection to the trials,” I reply. “It’s where the compulsion to put our hands in the bowls came from.”
Her eyes lock with mine, and I see confusion and pain swimming in the depths.
“I’m s-sorry,” I say, tripping over my tongue. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Nero. I did so many bad things for him. I never planned on raising the army of undead or everyone here. Didn’t even know I could until the taint and—” I scrub my face, distraught. “We don’t have time for me to explain. We have to wake the others; otherwise, the dream will spin and evolve. Everyone will find reasons to attack each other. Will you help me?”
They stare at me for a heartbeat, then nod. A blood-curdling scream pierces the air—sharp and real.
“What was that?” Max breathes.
“I don’t know,” I murmur. “Is anyone else awake?”
A bad feeling prickles over my skin. I start running, saying, “I’ll wake Becky—you find Colin and the young ones.”
Max calls after me, “But how will we wake them if they can’t let go of?—”
Geraldine hits his chest, eyes wide. “Chaser chains. We’ll put them in their branded hands.”
“Genius!” I shout, grinning, dodging two brawling specters. A shoulder brushes mine, zapping me with electricity. I wasn’t dragged in. Good. I find Becky on her side by a wall, blood oozing from her ear. My throat clogs. She defended me. I should have come here first.
I fall to my knees and grab her palm, slap it to the chain dangling across her uniform, and push hard. “Wake up, Becky!” She moans. Lashes flutter, but then she jerks and spits blood. Fuck. She’s in the midst of a fight. Instinct takes over. I draw mysword, pierce a meaty part of her thigh, and push her palm into the chain again. “Becky, wake up! Your kids need you!”
She lurches forward, eyes opening, and vomits onto the ground—blood-stained bile.
“You’re okay,” I say, dropping my things and taking her face. I bring her disoriented eyes to mine and repeat, “You’re awake. This is real. I’ve got you.”
Tears leak from her eyes, and she nods. “I’m okay.”
Exhaling, I collect my sword and steel ball. I give her a quick rundown of what I told the others while I search the arena, trying to ensure Geraldine and Max are okay. I spot them further down, shaking someone.
