Flying

Chapter 10: Storm and Barnacle

Hook and I have been lying on the ground for several hours, gazing up at the stars. As the cold fades away, I begin to nod off by the flickering flames. My past few days have been very active, and exhaustion is starting to catch up with me. I try to force my eyes to stay open. Flicker would be furious with me if I gave in to sleep with a pirate beside me, but despite my best efforts, my eyelashes keep flutter closed. My eyelids are anchors, dragging me into oblivion. I curl up on Hook's cloak. A few minutes of sleep can't hurt anything. 

I am floating in a still pool of water under a full moon. A gentle breeze caresses my skin. Fireflies flutter all around me. Their soft yellow glow reflects off the clear water. The scent of rose petals and lavender fills the air. Serenity fills my soul. I would be content to lay here forever. The piping cry of a bird sounds in the distance. My body moves of its own volition as if drawn by the invisible winged voice. I rise out of the water and walk softly through the trees. My bare feet make no sound on the mossy forest floor. The shrill bird call grows louder urgently pulling me on.

Finally, I reach a clearing with an enormous oak tree in the center. A man in a dark robe is seated underneath the tree with his back turned to me. I want to see his face. I don't know why but there is something familiar and comforting about his presence. I try to cross to him, but my mind is disconnected from my legs, and I can't move. The stupor fills the rest of my body keeping me from calling out to the man. He is reaching up to a branch where a red-breasted robin sits. The bird bobs back and opens its beak. An explosion of white light bursts out of the robin's mouth and strikes the man in the chest. He collapses backwards, his robe billowing out underneath him. His hand falls limply to the side, revealing a winding pattern of leaves and vines tattooed around his wrist. My legs begin moving again. I am racing through the trees back towards the pool. When I reach the pool, the fireflies are gone. The only light is from the silver moon. Water laps at my feet. I extend one toe into the pool and pull it back. A crimson drop slides off my skin. I look down in horror as the clear water below me slowly changes into pool of scarlet gore.

I shoot upright, gasping for breath. Sweat trickles down my back, and my heart is thumping wildly like I've been running from a minotaur. I shake my head hard. Damp strands of hair stick to the sides of my face. It was only that stupid dream again.

Rough male voices echo through the forest. Usually, I would despise the pirates for disturbing my rest, but I am rather grateful that they brought me out of my recurring nightmare. I start to push myself up and then stop. My hands are not touching the wool fabric of the cloak. Instead, they are laying on warm skin. I look down and see Hook's bare chest. In my turbulent sleep, I must have rolled over on top of him. He gazes up at me with an amused expression.

"Enjoy your rest, lovey?"

I try to stand up, but Hook anticipates my move. He yanks on the chain holding us together and pulls me back onto his chest.

"It's all right. You can sleep on me any time you want."

"I would prefer to sleep on my solitary island without anyone else around," I reply.

A teasing smile hovers around his mouth. "That didn't appear to be the case. You were rolling around all over me last night."

"That's because I was having a terrible dream," I retort.

"Really? What was it about?"

"You being a complete prat," I lie. "Then I woke up and realized that it wasn't a dream; it's just reality."

Hook opens his mouth to argue, but the voices shout again. His men are clearly just as adept in the wood as he is. Muffled oaths and curses as they trip over logs and get tangled in brush are intermingled with calls for Hook.