15 - Ryet
This is how it’s done.
This is how it’s always been done.
The gold mist is thick. Very thick. But it’s narrow too. And on either side of it there is a very dark purple. A purple so dark, it almost looks black.
Which means… what? That’s the past, or the future, or something unreal? But the gold is… I’m not sure. The gold is new. It’s not the present. At least, that’s not my first choice as far definitions go. Because in my extensive experience with dreamwalking, the light purple is the present.
But looking at the mist all around me, what it really looks like is… the Yellow Brick Road. FromThe Wizard of Oz. Except not a road, of course. Just a thick, misty path. But it’s definitely giving off the impression that it leads somewhere.
I look around. But I don’t feel like I’m anywhere. The two different-colored mists are giving off a tunnel vibe.
So. I dunno. There is really only one choice. I guess I’ll just follow the Yellow Brick Road. It’s probably gonna take me to a witch. But what the hell, witches aren’t so bad. I think I might be in bed with one right now, since this is a dreamwalk and, last I recall, I was nursing Syrsee back to health.
Time feels relative here, so I’m not sure how much passes when I notice that the purple on either side of the tunnel disappears, leaving nothing but gold. The worst thing about this is that now there is no road. There’s no path. So I stop and throw up my hands. “Now what?” I say this out loud to the mist.
Which doesn’t answer back. Not exactly, anyway. But there is a voice in my head—my own voice, actually—telling me that the gold is just like the purple.If you can imagine it, you can make it.
So where do I want it to take me?
My first instinct is Syrsee, but it’s not the right one. I know where Syrsee is. I have physical access to her. I can talk to her any time I want if I take myself out of this.
But the person I don’t have access to in the physical world is Paul.
And the moment I think his name in my head, we’re back in that hotel room. The one where I woke up from being second-born.
Paul and I are on the bed again. Backs up against the headboard. So close, our shoulders are touching.
“Aren’t you going to move away from me, Ryet?”
I shrug, looking straight ahead. “What’s the point. I’m stuck with you forever.”
“You’re the one who came to me.”
“I know.” I’m kind of snarling at him. I feel like a much angrier man since turning into a vampire. “Because I have questions.”
“So? Ask them.”
I feel like he’s a much angrier guy since I became a vampire too. “Why are you angry?”
“I’m not angry.”
“You sound angry.”
“It’s just the tendency.”
“Of? Because that doesn’t explain anything.”
“Master and slave. You and me. Father and son. But”—Paul looks at me—“please don’t think of me as your father. That would make our future… difficult. And… out of my comfort zone.”
I scoff. “Don’t worry. I donotthink of you as a father.”
“Good. Because it wasn’t actually me who created you, it was the Darkness.”
“Doesn’t really answer why you’re angry.”
“I’m not angry. I’m… you’re… challenging me.”
