Page 70 of A Dream of Stars and Curses

Fresh tears roll down my cheeks. While Chiara has kept me alive for now, I don’t think I can move. Everything either hurts or I don’t feel it at all. I never really imagined how I might die, but I wouldn’t have pictured this—slowly bleeding out at the whim of a mad vampire.

The Esta before this mess was so, so, so stupid. If I had any hope of getting out of here, I’d do better. I’d be a better friend. I’d be a better student. I’d be a better dog mum. I’d stop focussing on the things I can’t control and focus on the ones I can. I hate that it’s taken dying for me to realise how much choice I’ve had in everything. Losing Bonnie would hurt. Accepting Leverett’s rejection breaks my heart. Hearing bad news about my dog’s health would make me sob violently in the vet’s office. But we all die eventually. Bonnie and I have given Lady the best life a dog could possibly have. That’s all we could do.

I don’t want to lose any of them, but I realise now that it isn’t my decision alone, and some things are simply outside of my control. I can hate it all I want; it won’t change anything.

And as the truth of that sinks in, I lose whatever strength I had left as I grow impossibly light...

And float away.

Once again, I’m surprised to wake up, only this time I wake to the purple-leafed tree in my dreamscape and a paw on my face.

‘Oh good,’ Mischief purrs. ‘You’re up.’

Her paw slides to my nostrils. She puts so much pressure behind it that it’s actually difficult to breathe.

I jolt upright, and Mischief falls away from me with a disgruntled chirp. My hand flies to my neck. No injury. No blood. No pain. My heart is racing, so I make myself take deep breaths to get my thoughts in order. I’m not dead. At least, not yet.

It’s still night in my dreamscape, so I make the stars twinkle even brighter than usual. The moon is so large and bright that it illuminates everything. It may be night, but it isn’t dark, at least not in here. That’s if I ignore the ominous shadow wall. I’m not sure how far away it is exactly, but it’s much closer to my tree than it was last time I was here. I can’t see anything behind it, so I don’t know if the dreamscape it’s rolled across is still there or dead or perfectly unchanged. Looking at it, I feel like I should hear a distant rumbling like a coming thunderstorm, but the wall is completely silent. Probably because that’s more terrifying. After all, if Chiara had announced herself, I wouldn’t have gone home. She only ambushed me because I had no idea she’d be there; although, if I’m honest, she could have overpowered me either way and kidnapped me right out from under Kate’s glare. Now that I know about the boggart, I imagine it’s got something to do with this wall, too, though I can’t address the boggart personally right now.

‘Warn a cat before you sit up, will you?’

I shoot her a look. ‘I couldn’t breathe with your paw on my nose.’

Mischief jumps onto my legs and paws at my face again. I feel like she slapped me. ‘What’s it matter if you suffocate here or bleed out there? You’ve given up, haven’t you?’

I shake my head. ‘I haven’t. I just...’ I swallow and reach out to pet her. ‘I didn’t think there was anything I could do.’

‘There’s always something you can do,’ she says. ‘Getting up might hurt, but dying isn’t ideal, either, now is it?’

I pull Mischief into my arms and let a few indulgent tears fall into her fur. She’s so soft, and she’s so right. I was too busy feeling sorry for myself to even try. Yes, moving any number of neck muscles would have been excruciating, but am I really going to stay down until I’m dead? Am I really going to let Chiara mutilate me again and again?

I don’t bloody think so—pun intended.

Mischief rolls her eyes at me.

‘I’m so glad I get to hug you.’ I inhale her kitty smell. Since I never had a cat, I made her smell similar to my dog but softer. They both smell of love and home and snuggles.

Mischief licks at my tears as if to wash them away. ‘I missed you, too. Now get out there and fight that bitch.’

A half sob, half laugh escapes me. I swear a lot, but for some reason Mischief doesn’t, at least not usually. You’d think she’d get that from me, too, but no.

‘Hang on.’ I let go so Mischief can move freely. ‘I still don’t know what to do. Waking up wanting to get out won’t help me much. The door is locked, and Chiara is probably camped behind it.’

Mischief yawns. ‘That is a problem. What are you going to do about it?’

I frown at her. ‘I don’t know. You mean you have no ideas?’

So much for discussing it with my unconscious.

‘Neither of us knows what’s behind the door or how to open it, do we? I don’t have any more information than you do.’

There goes my hope again. I didn’t think she’d have some magical answer that’ll get me home in an instant, but I had hoped for better advice than this.

‘You just said there’s always something.’

Mischief stretches and looks at me. ‘Have you tried magic?’

I fall back onto the red grass with a grunt. ‘No, I haven’t tried magic, Mischief. I don’t know any magic.’

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