Page 1 of Realm of Dreams & Shadows

Chapter

One

The freshman tour guide won’t stop talking about ghosts.

“St. Augustine College holds the distinction of being the most haunted university in America,” she announces to our group, her voice pitched with practiced enthusiasm. “Over the centuries, more than two hundred supernatural encounters have been documented within these walls, and even more on the grounds. We can only guess how many have gone undocumented.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes as several of my fellow freshmen exchange uneasy glances. Of course, they believe in ghosts. Everyone wants to believe in something beyond the mundane reality of everyday life.

Everyone except me.

I know better. The scary things that haunt the darkness aren’t harmless tricks of the light. They’re the seeds of nightmares. And some nightmares aren’t just scary dreams. Some nightmares can kill you.

Or, at least, they can kill me.

“Our most famous resident is the Woman in White,” the guide continues, gesturing toward the arched windows of the main hall. “Legend says she was a nurse during the 1918 Spanish Influenza who worked herself to death caring for the sick. Students report seeing her wandering the dormitories during finals week, offering comfort to the stressed and struggling.”

My new roommate, Tia Mendez, nudges me with her elbow, her rainbow hair gleaming in the dappled sunlight streaming through the canopy of trees. “Spooky, right? Bet you’re glad you’re rooming with a witch,” she adds, her fingers toying with the six crystals she wears on various chains around her neck. I’m significantly less sparkly. Just a simple chain with my mom’s silver-set lapis lazuli ring dangling from it.

I reach up and touch the ring, smiling at the contrast between me and my new roomie. I’ve only known Tia for about half a minute—just since we met earlier in the day as we hauled our stuff into the room—and already, I know that she’s a practicing Wiccan, pansexual, and allergic to both cats and small talk.

Like me, she lost a parent young. Both of hers, actually. And my mom…well, the story I tell is that she died in her sleep.

I don’t usually dump my family drama on people I just met, but Tia and I immediately hit it off, and pretty much spewed our life stories at each other as we took a chocolate chip cookie break amidst the move-in tedium.

“If the Lady in White shows up during finals, I’ll direct her your way,” I promise. “I’ll be too busy studying to bother with ghosts.”

Tia’s eyes go comically wide. “Wait—you’re here to study? I have so got to find a new roomie.”

I laugh as she grins.

“You can be a sceptic all you want,” she adds, waggling her fingers so her silver and bronze rings flash in the late afternoon sunlight. “I’ll still protect you.”

If only she could.

As the sun beats down on the ancient cobblestones, I tune out our tour guide’s stream of spooky stories. Really not what I need right now.

Instead, I focus on the stunning Spanish colonial buildings with their red-tiled roofs, sweeping arches, and intricately carved stonework. The campus is beautiful in an old-fashioned way, with vines climbing the sides of structures that have stood for over three centuries.

In another life—a normal life—I might have fallen in love with the place immediately. Instead, all I can think about is how many shadows lurk in those elegant archways.

A chill races up my spine.

To these students, this spooky courtyard is just a dark and atmospheric place. A location to gather and tell scary stories.

To me, it’s a breeding ground for nightmares.

None of them get it. Not the guide, not the students. Not even Tia.

But I do.

I know what lurks in sleep. I know that’s where the real horrors gather, patiently waiting for their prey to come. And I know that sleep isn’t the only place where nightmares hide. They’re always waiting, always watching. Always devising new ways to bring terror to each dreamer. They wait for sleep, then slide into dreams, sometimes only to torment. Sometimes to kill.

They’re after me now, and soon they’re going to kill me. Just like they killed my mother and my grandmother and my great-aunt and my great-grandmother, and back and back and back for forever.

“Yo, Cora!” Tia stage whispers, making me jump. “You look pale.”

“It’s nothing,” I lie. “Just the humidity getting to me.”