Darksider: Reveler Series 3 (6 page)

“You okay?” he shouted over his shoulder.

Her eyes were squeezed shut, her free hand over her nose like an old pro, but she nodded and gave him a soldier’s thumbs-up.

Back in school they used to do a little exploring whenever they got the chance to go Darkside. Of course, the Agora hadn’t existed back then. The Rêve they’d used in the sleep study was a basic structure called the Quad, and it mirrored the plaza near the sleep center, but it was night in the Quad, with bright stars smiling down upon the first revelers. And revel they had.

He and Sera hadn’t known that it was highly unusual for people to be able to exit the Quad on their own power and cross the harrowing Scrape to enter one another’s dreamscapes. That ability was how he’d been later identified and offered a package deal in return for service in the Army. Sera had turned down repeated overtures. She’d had a different calling, finally satisfied by dropping out of college and going to culinary school.

At last, Coll broke through a dreamscape barrier, and Harlen and Sera followed out of the wind.

“Oh. My. God.” Sera gaped at the skyline of Maze City. “This is someone’s
dreamscape?
”

Harlen was utterly staggered, as well. Not even the top-line, most expensive, corporate Rêves were this vast and magnificent. “That girl Maisie created
this
?”

Coll’s eyebrows went up. “She’s not a girl.”

Well, she was young, and this…
city
was, quite frankly, outrageous.

“I wonder what the restaurants are like,” breathed Sera.

It was a monochromatic dream—which was unusual as well—and Harlen knew without exploring the entirety of the neighborhoods that the streets would all be distinctive; from brick walkups to taller apartment buildings to the glistening skyscrapers at least a mile away, there would be no repetitive gridding here. The city was also silent and deserted. Well, it had been until they’d arrived. Now their voices bounced down the streets and alleys.

Harlen had heard of talented revelers, but this proof was beyond his expectations.

“You have a map?” he asked Coll.

“A map would be good,” Sera seconded.

“A map wouldn’t help you,” Coll answered. “Maze City doesn’t work by waking world rules.”

Sera laughed out loud. “Of course it doesn’t.”

“You’ll both be fine.” Coll stopped them in the middle of the block. It was a segment of the city where the architecture mixed old with new, concrete flourishes and finials with stainless steel and glass. “Our meeting place is three blocks forward, a left, a second left, and then the fourth right. All you need to do is remember that.”

Harlen blinked at him. “Say again?”

Coll gave him a bland face and repeated himself.

“I got it,” Sera said but didn’t sound happy about it.

“Then you lead,” said Coll. “From
any
location within the city, no matter how deep you’ve ventured, all you need to do is follow those directions and they will lead you to one specific room. It looks like a city but think of it as a very complex maze with an urban overlay.”

“You’re screwing with us,” Harlen said.

“Try it. And if you ever come back, know you probably won’t return to the same building per se, but if you follow the directions you
will
find the same room.”

Sera was already walking ahead without him.

Harlen jogged after her. Three blocks, then they took the first left, which happened to be some stairs to an apartment over a drycleaner. Even the air carried a trace of the chemical solution used on the garments. Down a short, dusty hallway, Sera turned a brass knob on the second door, which led into a dingy, yellow-walled apartment. The building’s architecture should’ve only had enough room for a studio-sized place, but there was an equipped kitchen, a closet, a bathroom with a toothbrush on the sink, and finally…the fourth door on the right, a bedroom?

No. Over Sera’s shoulder, Harlen saw a cozy room with comfortable old furniture and tall windows with moldings.

Two women curled up on a deep sofa were looking over at the entry. Maisie Lane, who had pink hair knotted on top of her head, scowled upon seeing Sera, who she hadn’t invited into her dream. “What the—”

Harlen, who had a sister, too, knew to take the immediate defensive. He jerked a thumb behind him to deflect and redirect. “It’s all Coll’s fault.”

***

Sera seated herself in one of the big chairs. She couldn’t help but look at Maisie, who’d jumped up to kiss Steve on the mouth. It was an odd pairing. Steve seemed contained, controlled, watchful; Maisie was movement and color. And she was responsible for the incredible place called Maze City.

The woman was, hands down, a genius.

Being back here, Darkside, traversing the waters, was as terrifying and as exhilarating as Sera remembered. Her imagination felt stretched, her blood reinvigorated, as if some part of her was waking up after a very long, disorienting sleep. Well, it was all fun and games until someone died.

“Point is, Sera, the city is safe,” Jordan said. She had to be new to reveling, because Sera could testify to the absolute opposite. “Even if Lambert himself were on the street below us, and we were waving down at him, he’d actually have to have the directions here in order to find us.”

“Lambert?” Sera wasn’t following.
The
Lambert?

Coll sat down opposite them. “That’s right, Didier Lambert. He’s the one we brought you here to talk about. See, he’s a monster.”

Sera smiled. “No argument here.” The man had introduced shared dreaming to the world, though he might not have known how dramatically it would change life as everyone knew it, the so-called Rêve-olution. (She preferred the term Rêvelation, which also referenced the book in the Bible when the world catastrophically ended).

“I mean, he’s literally a monster.” Steve bowed his head slightly, and when he lifted it again Sera restrained herself from flinching in surprise. He’d altered his appearance so that his eyes had wide gray irises and no pupil. The effect would’ve created a sense of vacancy, if the gray didn’t evoke the dreamwaters, and therefore power.

She’d seen worse; good try, though.

“What the fuck, Coll?” Harlen was standing. “Stop that. You know what she’s been through. It’s not funny.”

“Well, he’s got our attention,” Sera muttered.

One of the things that bugged her about reveling was when people changed themselves like that. Revelers often made themselves more conventionally attractive, and still others adopted alternative personas, like this one guy back at school who would go Darkside with a ridged forehead characteristic to a species on a sci-fi television show. All things considered, Steve’s eyes weren’t that outrageous an affectation.

But it seemed to Sera that Steve was just getting started. “I found more of the same kind of nightmare creature that pursued Rook and Jordan,” he said.

Harlen dropped his arms. “What? No.”

“Afraid so. I think I’m partly like them, though I don’t know how that could be. I’ve seen them in person myself—a group actually—and they didn’t attack me as they have everyone else. I was just one more of them.”

Sera smiled politely at him. This guy needed to spend a little more time in the waking world. Take up a sport. Eat some good food. Maybe the super talented Maisie wasn’t good for him after all.

Harlen seemed to come to the same conclusion. He pointed a finger around to include the two women. “I’m going to report you all to Chimera.” He held out his hand to Sera. “Come on. We’re leaving.”

“We have to wait for Malcolm to get back,” Sera reminded him.

Harlen swore.

Besides, this was getting good. And Steve related this information without any sense of falsehood. How’d he do that? Liars were the last thing Darkside needed.

“Didier Lambert is like me, too,” Steve continued. “A monster. He’s been feeding revelers to the creatures. I fought him here in the city and can attest that he’s stronger than anyone I’ve ever encountered.”

“Credit where it’s due, hon,” Maisie said. “You might’ve fought him, but
I
stabbed him in the waking world. Jabbed him right in the neck. Pity I missed his jugular.”

Sera was trying to follow their fiction: There were monsters Darkside, nightmares. Steve claimed to be part nightmare himself. Didier Lambert was supposedly another. And, best yet, “You stabbed
Didier Lambert
in the neck?”

“With a letter opener,” Jordan put in.

“Coll,” Harlen said, “you’re being an asshole. Drop this.”

Maybe they were all sharing the same delusion so it was true for them. She should’ve paid more attention during the philosophy discussions about Rêve, but—
ha
—they had put her to sleep.

Steve opened his hands. “Harlen, all I’m asking is that you find out for yourself. Do some digging at Chimera. Pay attention.”

“No. I was dragged in to be questioned about you lot this morning. I kept my mouth shut, but I can see I made a mistake.”

“You witnessed the nightmare creature yourself.”

“Fuck you,” Harlen said as if that added to the discussion. He finally looked over at her. “I’m sorry.”

“You want me to punch him for you?” Sera offered. He’d been so good to her before, and now he seemed so worked up that she couldn’t help a little show of solidarity.

“Look at me,” Steve said to Harlen. “
Look
at me. There are more nightmares out there. Many more. And Didier Lambert is involved with them.”

But Harlen only glanced over at the other women, a strange edginess drawing his features tight.

And that’s how Sera knew that he, for all his protests, believed Steve.

Harlen believed it.

Sera looked more closely at Steve. Maybe the story was
partly
true and Steve’s eyes were for dramatic effect.

Maisie wagged her eyebrows up and down, a maniacal grin on her face. “You should’ve seen how Steve’s and Lambert’s hands got all black and demonic when they were bashing each other. Seriously freaky.”

This from the woman who’d kissed Steve on the mouth.

Sera smiled over at the monster man. “So, hypothetically, let’s say Harlen discovers something that makes a believer out of him.” About Lambert being a bad guy, anyway. The rest of the stuff hardly mattered. It was Lambert who was in the waking world. “What do you want him to do about it?”

“We need someone on the inside,” Steve said to her. “Harlen could warn us when something is up, maybe feed us information.”

So, career suicide and possible criminal charges. Fantastic.

“They’re not going to tell me jack, bro,” Harlen said. “They’re watching me as if I’m already with you.”

Steve wouldn’t let it go. “Well, do you have any contacts from your time in the Army? Anyone you trust?”

Harlen shook his head, but his troubled expression had gone inward.

Sera didn’t like it.
No, no, no. Don’t even consider it.

“You
saw
the creature,” Steve said, seizing the advantage. “You saw it yourself. Venture out into the Scrape and I’ll bet you’ll see one again. Except then you might not come back.”

Harlen shrugged. “If Vince Blackman can kill one, I bet I can, too.”

Steve sat back, relieved, as if he’d won the whole argument. “You found Blackman.”

“He found his own way out, actually. I debriefed him last night at the hospital. He looks like shit. Shakes like…” Harlen held up a hand, and it shook, too,
shook true
, until he clenched it into a fist.

Oh. Dear. God.

Of everything Sera had seen and heard, that shake was by far the most frightening. First thing that came to mind? Post-traumatic stress disorder. Which was not uncommon among soldiers.

She went very, very serious inside.

“Anyway,” Harlen continued, putting his hands in his pockets. “He described the nightmare
things
, and he claims to have killed one.”

“How?” Steve demanded.

“Ripped it apart.”

“So you believe me.”

“About that, yeah,” Harlen said. “But cut it with the eyes, man.”

Yes, please
, Sera thought. She was trying to get her bearings after seeing Harlen—big, tough Harlen—shake, and she didn’t need Steve Coll putting on a show.

Steve sighed. “This is how my eyes naturally are. Rook gets all touchy about it, too.”

“I don’t mind,” put in Maisie.

Jordan patted her knee. “You’re a freak, too, sis. In your own special way.”

“Just see what you can find,” Steve said to Harlen.

Harlen sat down heavily. “Chimera is watching my every move. They’ll know if I’m poking around.” Finally, he looked over at Sera. “None of this will impact you. We’ll secure your dreamscape, and you can pretend this never happened.”

No, she’d just have different nightmares now—and not creature features, either—she’d be dreaming of Harlen and his shaking hand, dealing with these insane people.

Sera flicked her gaze over at the women to reassess them.