Page 15 of Bonds of Magic
“Wait, are you—”
“You still don’t,” Noah said, before I could finish asking. “But we’ve got to get you farther along than that.”
“I’ve made some progress,” I protested. “I was supposed to have a lesson last night, but I—well, I didn’t. Obviously. But I didn’t keel over today. That’s the first time I’ve gone three days without dreaming.”
“And you look like you’ve been sick with the flu for weeks.” Noah snorted. “What anchor do you use?”
“What’s an anchor?”
“Sebastian didn’t tell you about—” Noah broke off, shaking his head. “Nevermind. He was doing his best.” He sighed. “An anchor is…it’s an anchor. I don’t know how else to put it. It’s what you rely on to keep yourself tetheredtoyourself, when you’re in someone else’s dream. Something from the waking world.”
“Like…a lamp?” I nodded at one in the corner.
He shook his head. “No, like an idea. Some part of you that you know to be true. To be reallyyou. Usually it’s a single word. You think about it as you fall asleep, and it helps you remember what you’re doing in someone else’s dream.”
He said it like it was the simplest thing in the world.
I looked at him blankly. “A word?”
He shook his head again. He could see I wasn’t getting it. I wanted to, but what he was saying didn’t make sense.
“A word that represents the core of you. A value you hold. Or something you love.”
He held his hands out, palms up, like he didn’t know how else to explain it. And all of a sudden, I realized what the problem was. It wasn’t that I didn’t understand what he was saying.
It was that I had no idea who I really was.
That sounded stupid, but it was true. What parts of me were my true self? What values did I put at the center of my life? What evenwasmy personality?
I tried to imagine someone describing me in third person.There goes Cory Dawson. Eighteen, brown hair, gray eyes, and…what, exactly? WhatwasI?
Aside from terrified of whoever it was who’d tried to kidnap me. And desperate not to go back to my old home. And guilty of someone’s death. And a dead weight in everyone else’s lives.
I could describe my friends here perfectly, though I’d only known them for a month. Felix was thoughtful, wry, and wise. Ash was pure, irrepressible curiosity and zest for life. Keelanwas loyal and helpful, Min was confident but down-to-earth, and Erika—Erika had been insightful, warm, and driven.
But what was I? A patchwork of other people’s traits. Stolen parts that I’d mashed together until I resembled a real person. But inside, I felt empty. There was nothing there.
Sure, I tried to be kind, but was I really doing that because that was who Iwason a deeper level? Or because I wanted other people to like me? Did I actually have a moral compass, or was I only trying to ingratiate myself with others?
“I don’t know what to pick,” I said, looking at Noah helplessly.
He barked a laugh. “It doesn’t have to be that deep. It’s not a tattoo. You can change it later if you want. Just pick something that reminds you of who you are.”
You, I thought wryly.You and your dismissive eyes and your scorn for my weakness. You and the fact that you’d rather not be in the same room with me, even now.
It made me feel small, and dirty, and that, unfortunately, was something I was very used to.
“Okay,” I said, shrugging. Couldn’t hurt to try it. “I’ve got one.”
I lay back on the couch and waited for Noah to start. When he said nothing for a long time, I turned my head to him.
“You can close your eyes any time,” he said.
I frowned. “Aren’t you going to talk me into it?”
“Talk you into what?”
“Sleep,” I said. “That’s what Professor Romero does. He walks me through falling asleep. A kind of meditation.”
