The Children of Hypnos

[Vol. 3] Chapter 22: Dreamfall

Emery sat at her desk in Dream Theory class, her textbook open in front of her. The pages blank. The desks around her empty, and no teacher at the front of the room. Her hair hung from her head, because the desks were upside down. The whole room was upside down. The desks were on the ceiling.

As soon as she realized this, she experienced the worst vertigo she'd ever had in her life. The room tumbled, spinning faster and faster, and she tried to dislodge herself from her seat but she couldn't, she was stuck there strapped there unable to get herself free her hair was whipping around her face and wind was screaming through the open windows and howls came with it, horrible howls of a monster outside, one that was coming to kill her.

Then it all stopped. She was free of the desk. She slammed into a hard surface, eyes closed, face pressed to hot concrete. Thank Hypnos, it was done. She opened her eyes again and peered through the mess of her black curls. The span of the Fenhallow quad stretched out before her; she'd landed near the statues of Fabian Fenhallow and Iltani of Babylon, the first dreamhunter. Carefully, Emery levered herself onto her hands and knees and pushed her hair back. Then, without warning, she vomited. There was no acid burn in her throat, and when the contents of her stomach made contact with the ground, they burst into a bright patch of poppies between her hands, blooming red. The vibrance of the color made her want to puke again.

Something was wrong, but she couldn't figure out what. Was she late for class? Had Grandpa Al called her to his office, and she'd forgotten to go? No, no... Wobbling, she got to her feet. She felt too hot, though half the campus was covered in snow. The half of campus to her left, blanketed like the dead of winter. The half of campus to her right was arid, the grass brittle brown, the pathways steaming.

No students nearby. No teachers, either, or campus staff. No one at all. No footprints in the snow. No cars in the lots or even the sounds of cars in the distance. She needed to know why no one was here. The first person to ask was Grandpa Al.

Before Emery could turn toward the administration building, the ground lurched beneath her feet. Like a wave, the concrete pathway rose up and up and up, taking the fountain with it. The rise was not smooth; Emery's vertigo swep back in, accompanied by a pressure in her head like someone had clamped it in a vise. She gasped and fell to her knees.

Then the ground snapped back to its original position, and she was left flailing in the air, falling, falling, falling, falling

She fell forever. Through the sky, past statues and buildings and whales inside clouds that flashed with lightning. She fell through poppy fields, past mountains, into lakes filled with burning stars. She fell through fire patterned gold and silver. She screamed for it to stop but it wouldn't.

"Emery."

The voice suspended her in space. She looked around frantically but could see no one until strong hands grabbed her around the waist, lifting her out of her stasis, and turned her to face her rescuer.

Joel was better than she remembered him; she had started to forget certain things about his face, his hands, how he held her. The relief that filled her was so great that she burst into tears, squeezing him so hard it should have hurt him. He was alive. Fenhalloween hadn't happened the way she thought. He was here.

"Why didn't you tell me you were alive?" she asked, burying her face in his chest. "Why were you hiding? I missed you. I—I felt so guilty—"

"I'm here now, Em." He took her face in his hands and tilted it toward his. He kissed her. She sobbed again. She'd wanted that kiss for so long, dreamed of it.

But the feeling was wrong. There wasn't anything there. There'd always been something there when she kissed Joel.

She pulled away, and for the first time noticed that Joel's stomach was torn open and his intestines were hanging out.