Visioness (34 page)

“I always have a choice,” he
whispered, once he arrived in the silence of his bedroom.

He settled down onto the bed,
undoing the buttons on his forest green coat.

Do I really want to wear the
uniform of a liar?
he thought as he threw the coat aside onto his bed. He stared at
it, considering its meaning.

I don’t have to pick a side.
I can fight for myself.
He grabbed the coat in a fist.
I can fight for Adabelle.

He imagined her now, locked
away from the Dream Frequencies by the bracelet around her wrist. He imagined
her sobbing.

No,
he thought,
she is
stronger than that
. She wouldn’t be sobbing! She would be staring defiantly
into the face of her captors. He was sure, despite being kept away, she was not
cut away from Therron’s influence. He would be there at the fringes of her
mind, watching, surveying, all through the eyes of this Mr. Corbine.

“I can’t
not
fight,”
he whispered. To do so would mean he would have to face challenges from two
sources. But on the same hand, he didn’t really want to be the on the side
fighting the Oen’Aerei. He was sure, deep down, that there were people in there
who were sympathetic to Therron’s cause. But they couldn’t all be, surely!

And then there was Lady
Morphier: she was the real challenge here. Her and Therron and the man that
held Adabelle captive. Between those three, Rhene had a challenge ahead of him

Matthon needs me to fight,
he reminded himself.
He
needs me in the Dream. He needs me there.

But didn’t Adabelle need
him, too? Didn’t Charlotte? Weren’t their situations far more dire than his or
Matthon’s own?

There is always a choice,
he reminded himself.
I
always have a choice.

But what if there are far
too many ties to allow me a choice? What if I have made more promises than one
person can keep without angering another party?

His heart sunk.

I can’t leave Adabelle, but
I can’t leave Matthon, without insuring my own destruction.

But there was still Lady
Morphier, and Therron, and until Adabelle was free, Rhene was the only one who
could deal with them.

Unless I free her,
he thought. The rational
side of his mind reminded him of that fact’s impossibilities. But then he
remembered smashing down the wall of Therron’s making. Surely he could do that
again!

I have a choice.

“I’m not fighting for
Matthon,” he whispered to himself. “I’m fighting for myself, and for Adabelle. I
may not be on the side of the Dreamless, but I will fight Lady Morphier and
Therron tomorrow. Matthon himself if he forces me to. But I will fight for
Adabelle and for Charlotte, and myself.”

He looked to his uniform.
“Matthon will want me to wear it, and I will, to keep him happy, but I will not
kill anyone unless I have to, unless they give me reason to.”

That night, after Matthon
made the announcement over dinner, Rhene approached the man in his uniform,
smiling.

“I will fight,” he said. He
didn’t need to say for what side he was fighting.

“You have chosen well,” Matthon
said. “Be in the dream at least three hours before dawn. I need you to be ready.”

The pair shook hands,
Rhene’s hand lost in Matthon’s shovel sized mitts.

“To war,” Matthon said.

To Adabelle,
Rhene thought.
And to
Therron.

Rhene awoke before his
alarm, quickly getting out of bed and dressing. As he tugged on his coat, he
noticed a note under the door, picking it up and reading it.

Please find a gift for you,
in case we need to at the actual front line.

Dreamless Matthon.

He opened his door and found
a rifle leaning against the wall beside the entry. He picked it up, feeling the
heft of the lacquered wood handle, the dark, almost black metal of the barrel.
Beside the gun was a tin of cartridges. The gun itself could hold six at a
time, leading Rhene to stare in wonder at the ribbing pattern on the wood of
the pump. It was, in truth, a beautiful piece of weaponry, and Rhene was
suddenly thankful of the training Matthon had given him.

I can take this with me into
the Dream,
he thought, staring at the bullets for a moment.
I really don’t think I’ll
be needing those, though.
He then laughed out loud, as he made his way out
of his room and down the hall.

The plan had already been
set in place, with a few silent additions by Rhene. He would go into the
infirmary, where those who were incapacitated were sleeping, and use their minds
to enter the Dream. He could close his eyes, fall asleep, and then enter that
way, but that would take time. Time he didn’t have. Adabelle was practiced at
entering the Frequencies that way. He still took time and concentration.

From there, he would travel
in spirit with the Dreamless army, before breaking away from them, and heading
towards Adabelle. The results of his rescue attempt would decide what happened
from there.

I suppose I could go barging
in with this,
he thought, glancing at the shotgun.
But then again, that might not be the
best idea.

He arrived at the silent
infirmary, sneaking to the door. Opening up his mind, the tendrils of dream and
thought reached out, searching for the sleepers’ minds. He found the snoozing
nurse on the from desk, quickly deciding to enter through her mind. His thought
tendril grabbed at the woman, and then like a fisherman reeling in his catch,
tugged Rhene into the Dream Frequencies.

Rhene snapped into the mind
of the nurse, finding her dreaming. Sure enough, the rifle came with him, and
with only a cursory thought, it filled itself with cartridges.

It took a moment for Rhene
to sense the movement of the Dreamless Army’s march. He saw the mass of aware
minds like a void in the universe, and headed towards them.

“I’m coming, Adabelle,” he
said, gripping his rifle, marching through the Dream and into the distant fog
of war.

Time moved strangely in the
Frequencies. The hands on Rhene’s pocket watch, which usually kept the time so
neatly, moved in stops and starts, turning suddenly and then stopping entirely.
For that reason, Rhene could not trust the time it reflected, and had to rely
on watching the movements of the shadowy mass that was the Dreamless army.

Now, more than ever, Rhene
noticed with sheer clarity the ways of the Frequencies. He saw that vast
network of dreaming and sleeping minds forming this vast parallel universe.
That same network, with its shadowed spot where people’s mind were awake and
aware, where their subconscious was not in enough of a resting state to enter.
With that understanding also came fear, fluttering up from within. He felt the
Nhyxes moving about in the distance, somehow sensing their shapes of condensed
nightmare. He felt the minds of other, sifted through them, seeking out the
clearest path. He saw the shadow of the Dreameless army in its vast depth, and
knew to keep clear. In that complexity of darkness, he was sure he’d find
Oblivion.

As they marched, Rhene noted
the way his options for movement were swiftly lessening, the nature of the
Dreamworld continuing to astound him. People were waking to the sounds of
marching, many of them surely heading to their windows to inspect the army
moving through the city. This morning, much of Odilla would awake to the sound
of marching. He wondered how many would awake to the sounds of gunfire and the
screams of people as they died. The thought made him shudder.

I’m the one holding the gun,
he thought, stepping
through the fuzzing, shadowed barrier, from one mind into another.

As more people awoke,
stepping away from their dreams, the Frequencies seemed to thin. In the same
way the air thinned the higher up a mountain you went, so did the Frequencies
seem to lose their substance. As a rock turns to sand when pressed with the
wind, as a flame sputters when rain begins to fall, the Frequencies responded
in kind to the combined conscience of the city. Rhene could still run through
them, but it was more difficult for him to maintain his existence there.

Still, despite the distance,
he could sense Adabelle’s sealed dreams, and feel the black glass wall that
blocked her from escape. He didn’t need that sensation any more—he knew exactly
where to find her—but it was nice to have that trail to follow, at the very
least.

When he arrived, he was
surprised to find her awake. The black glass wall was in place, shifting
slightly between blocking Rhene and sealing Adabelle away. Yet as he sent his
thought tendrils out, he saw her tugging on the bracelet around the her wrist,
attempting to remove the shackle that bound her from the Frequencies.

“I’m coming, Adabelle,”
Rhene whispered, stepping up to the wall, staring it up and down, deciding how
best to break it.

In the silence of the
Frequencies, he heard a familiar voice.

“Rhene?” Adabelle whispered.
He wasn’t sure whether she spoke it out loud, or whether it came from her mind,
but nevertheless, he heard it.

“Adabelle,” he said again,
louder this time.

She didn’t reply, but
somehow he could feel her emotions through the barrier. Her mind shifted about
with anticipation, a tumultuous storm of excitement.

“Adabelle!” he yelled this
time. He pressed against the glass as he roared.

“Rhene? Can you hear me?” Her
voice was muffled, as if she spoke through a gag or from another room, but her
voice was there. She stood up, and through the glass wall, he could see her.
Lord! He could see her, as clear as day. There were tears in her eyes, but they
weren’t sad or scared. They were excited.

“Adabelle!” he roared,
throwing his first punch at the wall. His fist crumpled against it, echoing
with the pain of his previous injury. He took a moment to recover, to ignore
the pain welling up his wrist, through his hand. Then, he jabbed. He imagined
the pain receding, imagined it gone entirely, and slowly it did as he
requested. “ADABELLE!” he roared. “I NEED YOU TO RESIST THE BARRIER! TRY TO
ENTER THE DREAM! TRY TO BREAK THE SEAL! I’M WITH YOU!”

Somehow, she heard, a smile
creasing her lips, her eyes flowing with fresh tears. She nodded, closing her
eyes and concentrating hard.

A strange shadow of the girl
he loved appeared on the other side of the wall. It had no features, but for
the glowing eyes of someone who could not dream. She was blinded from this
world; she could only see darkness. Rhene had to guide her.

“I’m here, Adabelle!” he
roared, throwing his fist against the wall again and again. Her mind listened
and reacted, forcing itself against the wall. Adabelle’s mental tendrils
whipped at the impossibly hard glass, as Rhene threw himself against it from
the other side. Together, battering it from two sides, Rhene felt it cracking.
The weakening first became obvious when he could hear her thoughts more
clearly. The glow in the shadow-Adabelle’s eyes seemed to dim, the dark brown
of those beautiful eyes beginning to shine through. Rhene’s heart started to
race, but his fist could only do so much damage. With each blow he was breaking
the wall, but it seemed to strengthen at the same time, as if it were adapting
or evolving. He began to charge the wall with all his body.  His shoulder
slammed again and again, a constant barrage.

Glass flew away in raining
lots, shimmering black, glinting with the light of the shadow-Adabelle’s eyes.
Each beat against the wall sent more cracks webbing through the glass.

“I’m nearly there!” he
cried, as he pulled back. He took a deep breath in, forcing all of his
concentration into his body, into his charge. Adabelle seemed to sense his
movement, for she raised her own hands back in preparation to push through the
glass.

Here I go,
he thought, as the hammers
fell with all the force of a lightning strike. Adabelle’s own hands reached
through the glass, the wall seeming to fall away like ice melting suddenly to
water. As Rhene’s body struck, the glass shattered, his body flying through.
His hands fell upon Adabelle’s shoulders so that he could embrace her. The
entire wall collapsed around them, smashing to oblivion.

In the Dream, she felt so
warm. She sobbed into his shoulders, whispering, “Thank you! Thank you!” A soft
scent of vanilla flowed around the girl, and as Rhene breathed it in, he was
reminded of her, of how much he loved her.

They kissed, at first
passionately and rushedly, like they were on some kind of time limit. And then
they slowed down, and it turned from mad passion, to something more sweet and
tender and loving. His arms ran automatically down her back, feeling the warmth
of her flesh beneath his touch. Her own hands caressed the tops of his
shoulders, grasping for him as if he were planning on leaving. But he wasn’t
leaving; not now, not ever.

They pulled away from one another,
eyes opening for the first time since their kissing began. Rhene suddenly
realised that they were in Adabelle’s room, Charlotte asleep in the bed next to
hers.

“I have no idea how you did
that,” Adabelle said, glancing down for a moment at the silver bracelet—now
snapped in two—on the ground. “But I am so happy you did.”

“We did it together,” he
replied, “you and I.”

Her deep brown eyes began to
glisten in the soft dawn light streaking its way through the window. She dabbed
them quickly.

“I have thought of this day
every moment I’ve been in here,” she said. “I’ve thought about holding you in
my arms for what feels like forever.”

“And I haven’t stopped until
I could make that dream true,” he replied. They had not let go of one another
yet, so Rhene felt an odd sensation as she released her arms.

“So what’s the plan from
here?” she asked. “I’m assuming you’ve come to rescue me. Also, where did that
gun come from?” She pointed at his rifle on the ground. Apparently he had
brought it out of the Dream with him, despite not holding it at the time.

“Well the Dreamless have
marched off to battle,” Rhene said, “and I’m meant to be fighting there. But I
wanted to come and rescue you first. I had to see you freed. I needed to know
what I was fighting for.” He paused here at Adabelle’s confused expression.
“I’m going to stop Therron,” he said. “He and Lady Morphier are in cahoots with
one-another, and I’m going to stop them. They’ll be at the battle.”

“I’m coming, too,” Adabelle
said without a moment’s hesitation.

“What? No! It’s too dangerous!”

“No, he’s my father. I’m the
only one who can drag him out of the Dream. We have to drag him out and then we
have to kill him. That’s the only option.” The way she spoke suggested that
there may have been a few other options, but that she didn’t want to consider
them. He didn’t know how he understood that, from her tone alone, but put most
of it up to the fact that their minds had touched.

“It has been horrible here,”
she went on. “He beats us and taunts us and puts us to work from sun-up to sundown.”
Rhene noticed now what he had originally thought was simply a trick of the
shadows was in fact a dark bruise across her face. “It has just been…a
nightmare. And Charlotte…she’s even worse. She has developed a bit of my
rebellious streak.”

“Well she is at that age,”
Rhene said.

“Well either way, it’s got
her into more and more trouble.” She paused, glancing at her still-sleeping
sister. “She has been incredibly brave.”

“So it would seem,” Rhene
said. He jumped, suddenly remembering what he had to do. “What’s the time?”

“Still got…an hour and a bit
till dawn. Why?”

Rhene smiled.
Good. I
have time.
“Because,” he said, taking her hand, “I have another dream to
make real.”

He let the tendrils of his
mind feel out about the area, sensing a person sleeping soundly below them.
Rhene glanced over at the window, realising this place was an apartment.

“Come on,” he said, walking
her over to the window. It was a long drop to the ground below, but sure enough
the windows on the floors below them were open. He stepped out onto the ledge.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.
“I’m going to ask you to jump with me.”

“I trust you,” she said,
“but in hearing my own words, and seeing where we are, I realise how crazy that
sounds.” She paused, a smile suddenly crossing her face. “But I don’t care.”
She sounded anxious, but jubilant.

“Well good,” he said,
guiding her out the window. Together they stood on the ledge, enjoying the
cool, pre-dawn air.

“On the count of three, I
want you to jump with me, and take yourself into the mind of the person in the
window below, yes?”

Adabelle nodded, mouth
chattering, hand shivering in his grasp.

“One…two…three…”

The pair leapt off the
ledge, Rhene feeling slightly mad as he did so. Excitement and adrenaline took
over, alongside gravity, and within seconds the tendrils of his mind were
grasping at the dreams of the person asleep in the window below. A moment
later, they were in a dark Dreamspace, unbuilt by the mind of the dreamer.

“What am I here for?” she
asked.

“We can spare a moment for
us,” he said. “It has been too long.”

A moment passed, and the
dark space transformed into the most brilliant ballroom Rhene could imagine.
The floors were lacquered wood, the walls and ceilings all white draping cloth
and pillars. The ceiling itself was vaulted, and filigreed in vines of gold and
blossoms of silver. Chandeliers hung from the centre of the ceiling, glistening
with light as it reflected and refracted through the thousands of crystals hung
on the grand light fixtures.

It took Adabelle a moment to
notice, but her clothes were soon replaced with a bright yellow dress, the same
shade as the one she wore on their very first outing. Her hair grew out from
its close-cropped mess, to a long, beautiful set of locks. Adabelle’s eyes
brightened at this, Rhene sure she knew what was happening. She reached up with
tentative hands towards her hair, atop which sat a crown of gold and diamond.

Her hands cupped her mouth
as she let out a yelp of excitement. “I’m a princess,” she said, excitedly.

“Yes you are,” he said,
waving his own hand as he bowed. As he rose up, his uniform shifted slightly,
turning from an army officer’s forest green coat and pants, to a suit. “And I
was wondering if I could ask this most gracious of princesses,” he raised his
arm, bowing, “to a dance?”

Adabelle accepted his hand
in her own. “Of course.”

The music commenced, a
gentle waltz. Rhene had never been much of a dancer—he kept count in his head
all the while—but somehow he managed not to trip as they moved about the ball
room.

Adabelle’s eyes brightened
all the while. She seemed slightly distracted by the beauty of the room he had
managed to Dream up. It was, in truth, grand. Far grander than anything he had
personally seen. But nothing was as grand as how Adabelle looked now, dancing
before him, forgetting, if only for a moment, of the danger they were both in.
He could never make her a princess, he had no royal heritage, could never buy
her a palace, but he could help her forget for this one brilliant moment. In
this sanctuary, away from Therron, he could have her know that she had him, he
had her, they had their love, and that was enough.