How had she not recognized Adler as Winston even from her seat in the balcony?Or had she recognized him but not realized it?Is that why she panicked?But he didn’t look like the Winston she remembered.Years of nightmares had seared his face into her memory.Or had time and dreams altered it?
“Ah, I see you noticed what you did to me.I’ve been waiting to get my vengeance.”He dropped her foot and removed a knife from his coat.“An eye for an eye sounds about right.”
Nora flattened against the floor and searched for anything she could use as protection.Unless he feared a paper cut, nothing could defend against a knife.
“There will be time for that later.”A woman dressed in full mourning with a long, thick veil over her face and an obviously disguised voice stepped around Winston.This must be Ursula.She leaned upon a metal-tipped cane, but Nora doubted its purpose was to help walk.“Where is Katherine?”
Katherine?The only Katherine Nora knew lay scattered amongst the pages on the floor.“I don’t know a Katherine.”
“Don’t lie to me!”Ursula stamped the metal tip against the floor.“Katherine is your mother.”
“My mum is Constanza Brisbane.”
Winston huffed.“Same woman, different name.Where is she?”
But that couldn’t be right.Katherine was a character, not a real person.Nora sat up, but leaned away as Winston brought the knife tip to within inches of her face.
She met his eye.“Katherine is nothing but a character in Mum’s libretto.”
“She’s more than that, girl.Now tell us where your mother is, and I won’t make you suffer.Much.”
Nora shook her head.This had to be a dream, or worse, a hallucination.As frightening as this was, a dream or hallucination made more sense.These two acted like villains from one of Lydia’s dime novels.No one was really that ridiculous or melodramatic, and they insisted on Mum being a character from a libretto.Even their appearances fit with a mind losing its hold.She’d never seen Ursula’s face, so a veil obscured the details she didn’t know.And Winston, his was just the face of the opera singer fromOlivette.But shehadbeen attacked by Winston, and she couldn’t fight back against a hallucination, could she?But she’d fought Winston countless times in her dreams.This was just a new dream, molded by her experience at the opera house and imagining his voice in the street.
Nora sharpened her tone to steel.“I’m going to stand, and you’re going to let me.”
When they didn’t threaten her or move, she blew out a breath andstood.If she could control them with her words, then she must be dreaming—which meant she could make them disappear if she did her exercise of speaking truths to herself.
She glared at where Ursula’s eyes should be behind the veil.“You’re not real.I’m just overly tired from staying up all night with the Guardians.I must have fallen asleep while reading Mum’s libretto, that’s all.I’m not losing my mind like Mum.This is all a dream.”
Winston’s mouth fell open.“You think this is a dream?”He looked to Ursula.“She’s dottier than a patient in Bedlam.”
Nora adopted her most commanding pose.She’d had enough of these tricks of the mind.She wouldnotbecome Mum.“You are to leave me and never come back.”
“Maybe I just need to prove how real I am”—Winston took a threatening step forward with his knife ready to carve her flesh—“by making you bleed.”
Dream or not, she stepped back.
The cane cut through the space between them and cracked against Winston’s hand, dislodging the knife from his grip.
“That is enough!”Ursula approached like a black apparition, her speech slow and placating.“You heard Eleonora.She knows we’re not real, and now we have to leave.”
“You’vegone dotty!I’m not leaving without my revenge!”He reached for the knife.
Ursula stepped on the blade and pulled a white handkerchief from her sleeve.“Don’t worry, Winston.You’ll be back, but for now, she’s figured us out.The least we can do is allow her to rest.”The pop of a cork accompanied her words, followed by the soft rustle of fabric.“Here, why don’t you help her?”
Winston snatched the handkerchief from her extended hand.“Fine, but I’ll be watching you, Eleonora, and when you least expect it, I’ll get my eye for an eye.”
Nora shifted to a boxing stance.How many times would she have to fight Winston in one dream before she woke up?Shewouldwake up, right?Or had she just convinced herself of a lie and now a veryreal Winston was about to strike?Was she becoming unable to distinguish between the real and the imagined?
Winston didn’t go for her face or an arm grab.He ducked low and tackled her middle, taking her down to the floor.Her head slammed against the wood, and bursts of light blinded her.Before she could stop him, he’d pinned her arms beneath his legs and pressed the handkerchief over her mouth and nose.The scent brought a flash of memory from the last time that smell had assailed her.
No.Not that horrid stuff.
She thrashed her head, trying to get free, but he used his other hand to stop her.Tears stung her eyes.Though age had given her size and strength, lightheadedness quickly made it difficult to think.Heaviness seeped into her body, stealing her fight.Black crowded in, and far too soon all sense of what was happening faded into nothingness.
Dong.Dong.Dong.
The heavy clang of the grandfather clock infiltrated Nora’s dream as she continued to struggle against the grip of her attacker.His hands suffocated, and she twisted to get free.A sharp pain zinged up her neck and into her head, severing wakefulness from the vestiges of her nightmare.
