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“Is this our target’s home?” I ask, looking at the drab structure in front of us.
“Yep, that’s Exozar’s quarters,” Rowan says. “Now what?”
Valerian looks at the door. “Can you get him to open up for you?” he asks Rowan.
“Sure,” she says.
Valerian turns to me. “And could you do that sleep-at-a-distance trick Maxwell performed on Dylan the other day?”
I bite my lip. “Maybe. When I pushed Ariel into REM sleep that time, I was touching her skin. But that was before the power boost…”
“I don’t understand,” Rowan says.
“Sounds like we need a plan B,” Dylan says, ignoring her.
“Plan B will be for me to knock the guy out,” Stanislav says. “Then tie him up so Bailey can touch him as much as she needs.”
“Touch him where?” Rowan asks with a smirk but is ignored again.
“I really hope we don’t have to resort to plan B,” I mutter under my breath. “I’m not eager to touch a stranger who might be spreading the virus.” Or any stranger for that matter. Or even people I know.
“I’ll hygieia his skin if we end up going that route,” Valerian says. “That will kill anything.” He looks at Dylan, who vigorously nods.
I still don’t want to touch anyone, so I’m going to do my best to get plan A to work.
“Don’t we need a way to make sure he doesn’t see our team as a threat?” Felix asks.
“We can disguise you all as helpers.” Rowan gestures at her zombies.
“I’m not putting on a mask that’s been on a corpse,” I say with a shudder. “There’s a limit.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Rowan says. “Follow me.”
She leads us a couple of blocks over, where we enter an empty store filled to the brim with brand-new masks and different clothes, all designed for zombie wear. We pick masks big enough to fit over our current ones and robe-like garments to hide our non-Necronian attire.
After Valerian sterilizes my choices, I put them on.
The rest of the team does the same, and we totally end up looking like a bunch of zombies—a pretty eerie development.
“The helpers wear these masks to spare the family of the deceased the pain of seeing their loved ones walking around,” Rowan explains as we walk back. “Not sure who decided the design should be this disturbing, though—or why.”
When we get back to our original destination, Rowan gives us a thorough once-over. “Don’t draw attention to yourselves,” she says. “If Exozar puts his mind to it, he could figure out that you’re not helpers.”
I guess I’ll have to do my part quickly.
“Ready?” Rowan asks.
I nod, and she knocks on the door.
A minute passes.
The door opens. A pale, disheveled head peeks out and says something in Necronian. Rowan replies in kind. The guy steps out, and they begin talking.
I close my eyes and concentrate. I don’t bother wishing my target asleep or doing any imagination exercises. Instead, I try to replicate what I did to Ariel on instinct.
Nothing happens.
Maybe the wishing and imagining helps?
I do both while seeking the tip-of-the-tongue sensation. Still no results. Meanwhile, I can hear the necromancer conversation petering out.
I open my eyes and see Rowan darting glances at Stanislav, who’s standing near Exozar.
Catching her drift, Stanislav sends his fist at Exozar’s chin.
Bam.
Stanislav’s strong arms catch Exozar before he falls.
“Finally,” Rowan says. “I was seriously running out of things to say to the guy.”
Grunting, the chort drags the necromancer inside, and the rest of us follow.
“Let my helpers do the rest,” Rowan says. She has her zombies put Exozar on his bed, locate a rope, and tie up his arms and legs. “Your turn,” she says to me when the bondage is complete.
True to his earlier promise, Valerian sterilizes a patch of skin on Exozar’s wrist.
I touch the area gingerly, doing my best to suppress a strong desire to gag as I seek the prerequisite feeling.
It takes me a couple of minutes, but eventually, I get that sensation.
I metaphysically push.
Finally. Exozar is in REM sleep.
I switch gears and drop into his dream. As soon as I appear in my palace, I exit my trance.
There’s one more step before I can properly dive in.
“Your turn,” I tell Rowan in a low voice. “Oh, and you might not want to be standing next to sharp objects for this.”
Rowan stretches out on the floor at the foot of the bed. She gives Valerian a caustic look when he cleans her wrist with the hygieia device.
I approach and make skin contact again. Rowan makes a goofy face and closes her eyes. I also close mine and search inside myself. The feeling is a little easier to locate this time; practice makes perfect and all that. When I catch it, I push, and Rowan is in REM sleep immediately.
I grin. I’ve officially mastered a new dreamwalker power. At least the touch version of it.
