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“I don’t know, but she had a dangerously fast heartbeat, shortness of breath, excessive sweating and trembling—all signs of a nocturnal panic attack, but without the awakening that typically follows.”
My stomach sinks as I look Mom over. Her forehead is beaded with sweat, and her bronzed skin has a gray tinge. “So what do I do?”
Dr. Xipil adjusts his breathing mask, an apparatus all gnomes wear due to their anatomy. “Well… it’s a unique case. Your powers may still be the best way to wake her, but you might want to let her body recover for a day or two before you try anything else.”
I take a deep breath. “Actually, I don’t know if it’s worth trying again.” I explain my theory that Mom may be much more powerful than I am.
He gestures for the security guys to leave. “Maybe you can reason with her next time?”
“I told you, she doesn’t want me dreamwalking in her.” I look at Mom, my chest squeezing with guilt at the ashen hue of her face. “Maybe I should’ve listened.”
Dr. Xipil readjusts his mask. “I’ll see what we can do on our end. Meanwhile, we have to reattach some life support.”
On my wrist, Pom turns black—reflecting my emotions this time. I swallow against the bitter lump in my throat. “I understand.”
“You might also want to talk to a sleep expert,” the doctor says. “Or find another dreamwalker.”
I blink at him. “I don’t know another dreamwalker.” We’re not exactly thick on the ground.
He regards me speculatively. “In that case, have you ever heard of Dr. Cipactli?”
I shake my head.
“He’s a sleep expert with a great reputation. He heads up the ZIZZ Sleep Clinic.” Dr. Xipil’s chin lifts. “Not surprising, really, as he’s a fellow gnome.”
I’m genuinely impressed. “Yet another gnome in a medical field?”
Dr. Xipil huffs through his mask. “I was as surprised as you. I know I’m an outlier. I became a doctor when I lost my parents to a rare genetic disease. Still, even I can’t fathom why a fellow gnome would want to study sleep of all things.”
He can say that again. Gnomes usually thrive in technology-heavy fields. My friend Itzel, for instance, is obsessed with space exploration and gadgets of all kinds, and her famous grandfather, Cadmael, invented the Vega reactors that run everything on Gomorrah.
“I’ll talk to this Dr. Cipactli,” I say.
“Great.” Dr. Xipil makes some gestures in the air. “I just sent you his info.”
“Thank you. Can you also give it to me verbally? My comms died, and I haven’t replaced them.” Actually, my comms were crushed by a vampire on Earth—but who’s keeping track.
Dr. Xipil tells me where I need to go and adds, “I’ll talk to Dr. Cipactli right after I leave, and send him all the information about your mother.”
I thank him again, and he leaves the room. I clasp Mom’s hand again. “Bye,” I tell her softly. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
There’s no reply. With a heavy heart, I head out.
As I walk past the nurses in the hallway, I ponder why Mom kept killing me in her dream. The best answer I can come up with is that even though I was invisible, she’d detected my dreamwalking presence and it’d angered her. After all, my whole life I’d promised her I wouldn’t enter her dreams.
But why was she killing me at different ages? Why not just push me out the way she did when I made my presence known?
More importantly, should I respect her wishes and not go back?
I try to imagine leaving her hooked up on those machines indefinitely, and everything inside me revolts at the thought. Even if I can come up with the money to keep her in the paid hospital long term, she’ll eventually waste away, machines or not. If I don’t wake her, she’s as good as dead.
So that’s that. Unless the sleep expert can come up with another solution, I’m going to have to figure out a way to gain more power, go back, and try waking her up again. I even have an idea when it comes to power gathering—
The hospital doors slide open, and I look around.
This is the Health District, named so due to the slew of paid hospitals, pharmaceutical companies, and research centers all around. It vaguely resembles Gardens by the Bay in Singapore, as the water-collecting trees here look a lot like the Supertrees there.
My destination is walkable, so I make my way through the busy crowds of fellow Cognizant. After Earth, seeing so many non-humanoid pedestrians is a little jarring, especially when I spot a couple of weres in their animal shapes.
The building where the sleep clinic resides is small and reminds me of the Freedom Tower in New York. I go inside and take the elevator to the sleep clinic floor. An elf secretary tells me the soonest I can see Dr. Cipactli is tomorrow afternoon, no matter how urgent my issue is.
