The Dream Catcher's Daughter (4 page)

Already went to work. Don’t wait up. Love
you.

The fourth day in a row,
thought Jason.

He pulled a bowl and a box of cereal from
the cupboard. As he reached for the milk, he felt a buzzing in his pocket. It
was a text from Darlene:

meet
ya
at the u top!

A year ago, Jason might’ve chuckled at their
inside joke. The u top was a broken, glassless structure on the north side of
Sheriffsburg High School. Faded letters on the rusted green paint might’ve read
BUS STOP if age hadn’t overtaken it. Instead, it read U TOP. Jason snapped his
phone shut, shoved it away, and ate breakfast. Before heading out the door, he
remembered the
Megatron
figure on his desk, and went
back to retrieve it. Once
Megatron
was stowed safely
in his backpack, Jason locked the front door and headed out.

Sheriffsburg High sat northwest of Jason’s
house by six blocks, just two past Silver Moon. As Jason crossed the bridge, he
spared a glance toward the abandoned district just underneath. He could see the
alley where Talshe had cornered him.

He continued, and soon a peach-colored building
rose into view, its cathedral-shaped gymnasium piercing the sky. The main
building was a squat brick cube the shade of light cocoa. Imprinted on the side
in thick white letters was SHERIFFSBURG HIGH SCHOOL. Out front was a sign that
read: SHS, HOME OF THE DEPUTIES. He crossed in front of the sign and walked
along the east wall toward the north. Darlene sat on the U TOP’s bench,
clicking away at her cell phone. She looked up and smiled at him. The smile was
filled with concern, much like the one Mr. McKinney had offered the night
before. Darlene patted the spot next to her, and Jason sat.

“How you feeling?” she said.

“Better. Thanks for taking me home.”

“What’s a bro for?” And they bumped fists.

Jason checked his phone. They had about
fifteen minutes before the bell rang. Then they’d have another five minutes to
get to first period. Usually, Jason would chill in the library. He wouldn’t
read. But he used to, over a year ago.

As he felt a stony prickle in his fingers,
Jason turned to Darlene.

“So, what happened to the mannequin?”

“Disappeared.” And she snapped her
fingers. “Just like that. Kind of bugs me,
‘
cause
mannequins don’t just vanish. They’re puppets;
they need something to latch onto. A doll or hair or something. There
should’a
been something left over.”

“Well, maybe this one was different.”

Darlene raised an eyebrow at him.
“Remember who made the thing. Speaking of the devils...Wonder if they’ll show
up to school?” Jason shrugged. “Better not,” she continued. “Or I’ll beat ‘
em
so bad,
slugs’ll
mistake ‘
em
for family.”

Darlene laughed, and Jason longed to join
her. But he couldn’t. He tried, but it was like his lips were too lazy, his
lungs too depressed with the burden of breathing.

“I might skip today,” he said.

Darlene’s eyes widened, and a sly grin ran
across her lips. “Didn’t know you were the kind. Aren’t you Mister
Straight-A’s?”

“It won’t matter after my birthday.”

“Oh, guess so. Sorry, didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine. You should get to class. Don’t
they set out the guard dogs at about five after?”

Darlene stood and heaved a sigh. “Yeah,
they upgraded to a couple of dragons.
Wingpeople
,
from overseas. They’re damn clever, and nothing gets past ‘
em
.”
She flashed another grin at Jason. “If only you could see ‘
em
.
One has red hair and wears a cowboy hat. The other’s
kinda
chubby, but more our age. He likes talking to me. I think you’d like him.” When
Jason said nothing, Darlene re-checked her phone for the time. “Anyways, I’ll
go. Don’t go chasing mannequins without me, ‘kay?”

Jason nodded, and Darlene walked toward
the street. She held up her cell phone, clicking away, crossed herself with it,
and then jabbed it forward. A portal ripped open mid-air, revealing a lush
landscape with a castle and hordes of magi high schoolers. Jason’s chest
tightened.

Before passing through, Darlene turned,
waved at Jason, and said, “Smile!”

As the portal closed, Jason tried. But
failed, and his eyes remained locked on where the floating portal had been. He
tried to cling to the castle with its mighty turrets and the dragon-guards. All
those things swirled in Jason’s mind for a moment. Immediately, he clutched the
bench’s edge.
All wrong,
he thought.
I shouldn’t be here. But
she
was—

And before the thought set in, the bell
rang.

***

First period passed in a blur, yet slowly,
so that Jason suffered through the pre-class banter and lecture but couldn’t
remember anything worth repeating. He got a few
hi’s
from people he used to call friends. But they quickly scurried away, as though
Jason were a viper. When the end-of-period bell rang, he waited until everyone
else had emptied out. Then he followed, shuffling his feet, staring ahead at
nothing in particular. He bumped into a few people, but didn’t care.

He somehow managed two more class periods,
then decided school was a nuisance best skipped. The less human contact the
better. Instead of heading to homeroom at the south end of the building, Jason
walked to the cafeteria, toward the library. The library was a safe place
because, unlike Darlene’s school, none of the faculty were dragons-in-disguise,
prowling the school grounds in search of students MIA.

At the other end of the cafeteria, Jason
passed a bulletin board. He peered at it, a habit that hadn’t faded in over a
year. His feet stopped working, along with his legs, and he halted mid-walk.
His gut seized. The liquid stone poured into his arms, just like when the
second chair in his room had flashed into existence.

The word is “forth,”
he thought.
Just
say it and keep moving.
But his body wouldn’t listen. His feet and hips
pivoted; his legs carried him to the board. First he saw the yellow cardstock,
then the letters stretching across the top and the block of text anchoring the
bottom. He stared deeply into the sign. He resisted letting his eyes drift to
the middle, where he knew there was a picture. But his eyes wanted to look, and
Jason had no control of his body. After reading the text-block across the
bottom, he shifted his gaze to the picture.

She had long blonde hair, but this was the
cardstock’s manipulation. It had actually been light brown. She’d had hazel
eyes, which were such a sickly shade of yellow in the photo that Jason wanted
to laugh. But he couldn’t. This thought released something inside, the very
something that leaked prickly liquid stone into his arms and legs and body.
Already his fingers started to weigh heavy.

Say “forth,”
he thought.
And
walk away.

But he couldn’t, for a scream ripped
through his head:
PAY FOR YOUR BETRAYAL.

Jason tore himself away from the picture,
and ran down the hall. He breathed a sigh of relief. He had escaped. Adjusting
his backpack, he headed for the exit just at the end of the next hall. But as
he rounded the corner, another sign jumped at him, luring him in, seducing him.
And he froze again. The girl in the picture smiled at him, and he felt as
though she were there in person. He could almost smell her favorite lavender
shampoo and taste her strawberry lip-balm.

“Tara Engel,” he said, savoring each
syllable like a bite of vanilla sundae.

The flyer was titled, “In Memory of Tara
Engel.”

The liquid stone closed its grip upon him.
He stumbled forward into the picture. He flailed his arms, hoping to catch
himself. Instead he smacked his face into the stone wall and his arms flattened
against his sides. He didn’t feel any pain in his face. All the pain gathered
at the back of his head, at the base of his skull, as it usually did.

SAY FORTH YOU IDIOT.

Jason wrenched his eyes shut, trying to
take in a deep breath. It sounded like he was sucking ice cream through a
straw. Exactly what it felt like, too. He sucked in enough air to say, “Forth,”
and as though someone had unplugged a drain, the liquid stone bled from his
body and flowed back to the dark depths of his mind. He felt heavy, like he’d
woken from a deep sleep. Except he didn’t feel refreshed. His heart pumped
hard; sweat bulleted down his face. The thrum in his temples was enough to make
him close his eyes again. For good.

“Get up.”

He opened his eyes and looked around. All
he could see was the wall and floor, so he flipped over, leaning his back
against the wall. Stars buzzed in his vision. Someone was next to him, placing
a hand on his right shoulder. He smelled something like mothballs.

“Come on,” said the hand’s owner. “You
have that boy waiting for you, remember? He’s looking forward to that toy.”

“Hit...my head...”

“I don’t think that’ll hurt it any. You
have a very hard head.” The voice chuckled at this, then continued, “Besides,
you don’t want the giant to find you like this. Trust me, she will find you.
Get up. Move.”

He raised his head in the voice’s
direction. After the stars lifted from his vision, but before he could say
anything, there was no one.

***

Besides the sun feeling too bright,
everything returned to normal. Jason could think straight, and his limbs moved
upon command. But the voice still bothered him. Not the one in his head, but
the other one, the one that had touched him.

Jason came upon a chain link fence. The
fence surrounded the corner of a block. A sign on the fence read: SHERIFFSBURG
ELEM. PLAYGROUND. It was recess now, and the playground flooded with untied
shoelaces, schoolyard crushes, and whooping and hollering. Monkeys disguised as
kids darted around the blue-foam grounds, ducking and weaving around metal slides
and jungle gyms. Nothing amiss here. Jason didn’t spot Trevor, but kept
looking.

Two high school-aged kids were leaning
against one of the slides. Jason didn’t recognize them, but felt like he
should. They each had black hair, and were very pale. One was a very voluptuous
girl, with hair down to her back. The other was a boy. Despite their obvious
difference in gender, Jason had a hard time telling them apart. He glanced at
his phone for the time; he wanted to give Trevor the
Megatron
figure and get home so he could take a nap before work. If he went to work.

No sooner had he turned than was there a
shriek for help.

The high school boy held another boy half
his size against a plastic wall knotted with footholds. The girl pointed at the
small boy, a slight grin on her lips.
Must’ve done something,
thought
Jason.
Nothing strange here. Nope. Not at all.

But something
was
wrong.

Jason edged along, hugging the fence, and
hooked his fingers through the chain links. At the feet of the high schoolers
lay a body—the body of the boy they had pressed against the wall. The high
school girl pulled a knife, wicked and curved, from her pants. The boy
screamed, but no one seemed to notice besides Jason. The girl rotated the
blade, giving the boy a nice view. Then she placed it against his neck.

“Hey!” shouted Jason, rattling the fence.

Most of the kids stopped playing and
stared at him, as did the high schoolers. Upon seeing Jason, the two
straightened up and dropped the boy, who vanished into his body on the ground. The
high school twins then turned and ran.

As Jason stood there, watching them run,
he realized something: He knew those two; their names were Amor and Bootelia;
and somehow, they were connected to Talshe.

As Jason walked toward the Silver Moon garage,
he yawned—the result of his unsuccessful nap attempt. He felt slightly annoyed
at this. But he was more annoyed by the moment he presented Trevor with
Megatron
. Trevor had been happy, smiley. Jason had wanted
to return the smile, but no. He didn’t even feel happy, when he gave the toy
away. He just felt...there. Numb, maybe. Even that felt like too much. He was
also thinking about the two high schoolers, those twins at the playground. He’d
recognized them in the same way as Talshe. Yet he didn’t. When he thought too
hard about them, as with Talshe, his head hurt.

He used his key to unlock the side door
and walked inside. Just before he could hop in his van, someone shouted at him:
“Jason!”

From the other side of the garage appeared
a tall, barrel-chested man holding a wrench in one hand and some papers in the
other. His beard curved upward as he smiled, his blue eyes watery in the
overhead lights. “So, have you heard?” he said.

“What?”

“We’re short two people! Can you believe
it? ‘
Parently
we’re supposed to get a new girl
tomorrow. But
waddabout
today? Your father’s a good
man, but I don’t know why he does the things he does sometimes.”

Jason shrugged. “Me too, Tom.”

“’
Nyways
, guess
you’ll be training ‘
er
. Father’s orders.”

“Can I do that?”

“You been working long enough. A year’s
vacation hasn’t made you that rusty.” Tom laughed, oblivious to Jason’s
clenched fists. “Don’t think it’ll be hard. She’ll just need to ride around
with you.”

Jason considered this a moment,
unclenching his fists, then said, “I wonder if he’s training her to replace
me.”

Tom shook his head. “Don’t think about it.
She’s just a new driver is
all.
You’re still the best
I’ve seen.” He patted Jason on the shoulder, and Jason wished he could show
something, anything. But all he felt on his face was a stone-like expression.
Tom awkwardly removed his hand, looking around, pursing his lips. “Sorry.
Didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t.”

“You look bothered. Something wrong?”

As much as Jason liked Tom, he couldn’t
explain anything to him. He’d tried with his father, and that’s how he got his
dreams sealed.
No one listens,
thought Jason.
They think everything
can be fixed with magic. Normies with their medicine and technology, magi with
their wands and enchantments. And here I am, in between and outside of both.

Jason started. The thought had been the
closest thing to resentment he’d felt since before a year ago. But the wave of
strange anger ebbed, and nothingness re-absorbed all of his emotional
interests.

Tom cleared his throat. “Well, I have your
orders. Don’t got much today, so you’ll
prolly
be
working inside afterwards.”

He handed Jason a list of groceries and a
slip of paper with the address. Jason, out of habit, checked the address first.
He double-checked the address, then looked up at Tom. “There must be a
mistake,” he said. “They only get a weekly delivery and that was yesterday.”

Tom shrugged. “Said they didn’t get the
milk and eggs last time.”

As Tom turned and disappeared to the other
side of the garage, Jason stared back down at the note. The address read: 214
South Hollow Ave. That was where he’d received the note, where he’d first seen
Talshe.

***

Ten years ago, South Hollow Ave as Jason
knew it didn’t exist. Instead of many broken-down houses there was only one large,
moldy mansion. Jason remembered going in there a couple of times, despite his
parents forbidding it. As a kid he’d loved to escape his house and run through
the night. He was lucky that he hadn’t been hurt in the earthquake, which
completely demolished the mansion. After that, the city leased the land to
build more houses, including the house at 214 South Hollow Ave.

It looked the same as before. Except for
the lack of vase shards and potting soil. Someone had cleaned it up. This
didn’t surprise Jason. Who would just leave a bunch of sharp, broken glass
pieces lying about? He took inventory of the messy porch, the overgrown front
lawn, the grass-stained foundation, and the layer of grime on the windows.
Perhaps he was a little surprised.

Jason killed the engine and hopped out.
Crossing to the back of his van, he jerked his head in each direction.
She’s
still out there,
he thought.
She won’t stop till I’m dead.
He lifted
the eggs and milk from the van. Thanks to Talshe, to that bizarre note, Jason
had forgotten to do his job last time. He double-checked to make sure he had
everything, then, without closing the van doors, headed toward the porch.

The door was unlocked, as usual, and the
table was set with a new vase and new flowers—tulips of yellow and frothy pink.
He set the eggs and milk on the floor, craning his arm as a sneeze came on.
After wiping the mucus off his elbow, Jason spotted it: In front of the vase
sat a large, golden key. Next to it was another note, labeled with his name,
written in the same flowing script and fuchsia ink. The envelope smelled of
mothballs.

The note read:

Jason,

This key is it.

Do take it with you. Show it to no one.
Some people might know what it is. Others may only stare blankly at it. I’ve
heard of these antique collectors who will pay for anything that looks old and
valuable. I’m not sure if this key fits either description, but be careful with
it nonetheless. After all, it’ll let you inside. And, if I’m right, that’s
where you’ll want to be. If not now, then soon.

At the bottom, instead of a signature,
there was another line:

I know you miss her, but you
can’t
give up.

There were a few tears in the note where
his mysterious writer had accidently poked through the page. He glanced back to
the key, then set it and the note on the table and left. Already his hands felt
heavy at his sides. His breath turned shallow. His tongue still moved with
ease, and he had enough control over his lungs to quickly murmur ‘forth,’ which
dispelled everything and jettisoned it to the darkness of his mind. He sighed,
shaking out his arms, which felt prickly and warm.

He headed toward the back of the van so he
could shut the doors. Just as he put his hands on the door handles, a clicking
noise came from around the van. The noise was that of a dog’s untrimmed nails
on concrete. Had a stray wandered to his van? If so, he would chase it off.
Then again, it could be dangerous. But this only occurred to Jason after he
rounded the van to look at the animal. He wished he’d thought about the danger
before looking.

Next to the van, pawing at the door, stood
no ordinary dog. It was hairless and eyeless and earless. Its skin was wrinkly,
leathery and red. Its mouth hung open, a slick tongue dangling off to the side.

As if just noticing him for the first
time, the hound turned its head toward Jason. A deep, menacing growl emanated
from its throat, a gurgle that made Jason’s toes curl. Jason knew he should
run. But as he whipped around, the earth trembled. He fell to one knee. The
blood drained from his face. He could already taste the rotted stench of
Talshe’s
breath. The hound growled as it stalked toward
Jason, its muscles popping. Its claws clicked upon the road.

The hound stopped. For a long moment,
Jason stared into the eyeless dog’s face. Another tremor rippled through the
earth.

Something clicked inside Jason’s head, and
he said to the hound, “Leech. Your name is Leech. You’re also connected to
Talshe.”

Growling, it lunged forward. Jason barely
ducked in time and missed Leech’s black, fishhook-like talons. It crashed onto
the porch, rolling onto its side and stopping. The ground shook again, this
time much louder and much more violent than before. Jason glanced over at the
van and the back doors he’d left ajar.

Leech clambered to its feet and swung
itself toward Jason, but already Jason had hauled himself into the back of the
van. His heart was pounding, and he could taste the salt of his own sweat as it
rolled down his upper lip. The hound leapt, narrowly missing Jason’s right leg.
Jason scrabbled to the front of the van and dug his keys from his pocket.
Leech’s claws scraped on metal as it struggled into the back of the van.
Just
as planned,
thought Jason.

Leech pulled its red bulk inside just as
Jason inserted the keys into the ignition. The dog’s growl sounded thunderous,
and a smell of wet copper, thick like the taste of nosebleed, curdled the air.
Leech darted forward, and Jason turned the keys. The van shook, and the white
circle appeared around the hound in a white-hot flash. Leech yowled, reeling
back, then forward when it hit the circle’s back-most boundary. It flopped onto
its side in the middle of the circle, panting like a marathon runner.

He jumped out the driver’s-side door and
locked it with a spare key. He went to the back, shut those doors, and locked
them, as well. His next step was to head for the paladins’ stronghold. It would
take him about fifteen minutes on foot. The van doors were locked and no one
was getting in or out. So Jason turned west. And he froze. How foolish he felt
for not noticing the vanished tremors.

Towering high above everything, Talshe
smiled, her stale-warm breath washing over Jason. She winked at him, and lifted
a balled fist. Jason knew he would die, and thus wondered if his dad would regret
deciding to erase Jason’s memories. He half-expected his life to flash before
his eyes. Perhaps it would remind him that there was so much to live for.

Besides Trevor, Jason couldn’t think of
anything.

Talshe’s
fist hammered
down, and missed him. She raised her hand again, brought it down again, but
still missed. Jason stared up at her.
She can’t be that bad of an aim,
he thought. But her fist came down again, and she hit the van a third time. The
van’s back doors popped open, and there was a sputter that sounded like a dying
engine—his
van’s
. The giantess smiled triumphantly as
Leech slumped out, his claws clacking on the pavement. He slunk away from Jason
and stood at
Talshe’s
feet.

“Now,” rumbled Talshe, “no more escaping.”

Jason spared only a moment before trying
to run. But Leech was quicker: It reared onto its hind quarters then slammed
its paws into the earth. Jason’s body seized. Immense dizziness rushed up his
body as he fell to his hands and knees. Leech’s claws clicked as it charged
him, its mouth growing wide enough to swallow Jason whole. With only a few feet
between them, Jason closed his eyes and braced himself.

Something wrapped around him. But it
wasn’t Leech’s wet, slimy mouth. It tightened and hoisted him into the air,
away from Leech and its gluttonous mouth. He opened his eyes, still dizzy, and
looked up at
Talshe’s
approaching face. She leered
down at Leech. From her height, Leech’s growl sounded more like a cat’s purr.

“You can’t have him,” she said. “Not until
he tells us where our king is.” She looked Jason in the face, grinning. “Even
then, he’s for my stomach alone.” Jason resisted the urge to piss himself. “So,
I’ll give you another chance. Where’s King Lukoje?”

“I’m King Lukoje,” said Jason, meaning it
as a nervous joke. But when
Talshe’s
smile widened,
he couldn’t help himself: He let his bladder go. But Talshe didn’t seem to
notice.

She lifted him higher, above her head,
pinching the collar of his work shirt between her index finger and thumb. Her
mouth opened like a sinkhole far beneath him. He could almost see down her
throat, into her stomach. The hot stink of her breath jetted up and his hair
billowed. Tears pricked his eyes.

“If you were Lukoje,” she said, “I’d
swallow you, anyway. But you aren’t him. Can’t be. King Lukoje was
much
more handsome than you.” Her mouth pressed into a firm line. “Last chance. We
came from your head, Jason. That means
you
know something. Where he is,
perhaps. Come on. Save yourself.”

Jason said nothing. And Talshe shook her
head.

“Down the hatch, then.” Her mouth gaped
wide, and her throat opened to accept Jason.

Frantic music pierced the air. Jason
recognized the flute tone, though now percussive and threatening. Demanding.
Even so, Talshe didn’t seem to hear the music as her fingers released Jason
into her mouth. A burst of light blinded Jason as he slammed into something
hard and cold, his bones rattling from the impact. Nothing felt broken, but his
heart pounded too hard for him to tell. The light faded, and Talshe was missing
from the sky.

Leech clawed its way up the hood and
windshield until it stood before Jason. It appeared the dog was wearing a grin
on its gaping mouth. Jason tried to move but electric pain burst in his
shoulders. He screamed, and Leech charged.

Another light exploded overhead and
engulfed Leech. The hound howled and writhed, but much like a fly stuck on glue
paper, it couldn’t move. After a moment, the light faded, and Leech
disappeared, its howls echoing in the still air. Jason forced himself to sit on
his elbows, staring into the fading light.