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Six
“Good evening, Milly. You might want to summon a coat. You look a little chilled.”
I opened my eyes and thankfully found myself dressed, but only in a light cotton sheath. I looked around, expecting to be back in the English garden, but was surrounded by tall cliffs reaching high into the night sky as an ocean churned at our feet.
“Where are we?”
A light-gray duster appeared in my hand as the Weaver replied, “Last night you seemed concerned about running into people in the dreamscape, so I thought tonight we would start here instead, away from prying eyes.”
The dark expanse above me sparkled in an array of colors. From blue to purple, magenta to silver, all shining brightly as far as the eye could see. This strange, almost alien constellation was mysterious and mesmerizing. And for the first time since learning I was the Weaver’s choice, I was truly excited to see what we could do.
“I’m ready to learn more.”
Roarke smiled and took my hand. “These first few trips are just to show you how the dreamscape works. After that, we can try combining our magic again, if you’re up for it.”
I nodded, not knowing what to expect, but I meant what I said. I did want to learn more.
Roarke lifted our joined hands, and I felt a slight surge, then stood there gawking as he waved his other across the sky. The constellation shifted and changed, creating a whole new scene directly above us. Three pyramids dotted the desert before me, and Orion’s belt aligned above them, shimmering wildly in the distance.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Just one of the billions of dreams being created tonight.”
“Whose dream is it?”
“I’m not sure. That’s not usually how it works.”
I pulled my hand from his, frustrated again. “Then, as usual, I don’t understand. What exactly is it that you do?”
Roarke lowered his muscular frame to the ground, the wet sand beneath him squelching under his weight. “That’s what I’ve been trying to say, Milly. It’s too hard to explain because it’s not something I do. It’s just something I am.” His eyes lifted to the stars. “The magic of the Weaver simply is. In the dreamscape, my magic reacts automatically to all the souls in the world, creating dreams pulled from their subconscious. There’s nothing I have to do or any spell I have to say. The magic simply flows from me because of who I am.”
I stared into the Egyptian desert, its heat causing the edges of the scene to waver in the sky. “Then why do you need me?”
“Every Weaver has to have a partner to balance out their magic. If not, it creates an imbalance that can be felt in the real world. And I shouldn’t have to tell you that any imbalance in nature is not a good thing.”
He was right. Mama always talked about balance and harmony and how important it was to our existence in the world. The yin and yang of things. To work within the shadows and the light. And to always embrace the good along with the bad.
The question was now which one was all this.
“As the dreams form, I’m able to walk among them, shifting from one to another with only a thought. That’s what I’ve been trying to show you.” Roarke waved his hand again, and the pyramids disappeared. A dense, shadowy jungle replaced the scene, filled with squawks of exotic birds, the roar of an unknown jungle cat, and the trill of a multitude of bugs, all bringing it to life.
I hesitated for only a moment, my blood pumping heavily through my veins. “Can we go in there?” The excitement of visiting such a lush place yanked at my very soul.
Living alone for the past six years had been peaceful. Sedate. But the thought of visiting such a foreign place almost had me ready to combine my magic with Roarke’s right there on the spot… almost. Sure, I could visit the Amazon rainforest in real life, but what made this so special was the extraordinary things you could only experience in a dream. Florescent-green trees wafting in the warm breeze. Vibrant blue bugs floating through the sky, lighting the scene with their neon colors even though it was the middle of the day. It was the fantasy of it all that made me brave.
“Of course.” Roarke stood and spread his hands wider.
The scene above us grew in size—like a picture expanding on a screen—enveloping us into the iridescent dream. The colors were so vibrant they almost hurt my eyes. Parrots, macaws, and even the occasional hoatzin flew overhead, their usual impressive hues heightened to the point of glowing. Trails of blue, pink, and green floated behind them as they winged through the trees—like living comets painting the air with their neon cosmic dust.
“This is beyond beautiful.” I gaped.
Roarke nudged my shoulder, glancing down at our hands. “May I?”
I smiled and nodded, a flush running through me when he intertwined his fingers with mine.
Walking hand in hand, Roarke led me deeper into the jungle, my stomach fluttering as wildly as the indigo butterflies landing in the trees. We walked in silence, letting the symphony of the jungle fill the air between us, until suddenly a wild roar sounded up ahead.
We followed the cat’s call and found a pure-white jaguar lounging in a tree next to the most beautiful waterfall I’d ever seen. Turquoise water glinted and churned at its base, creating a pool at least three hundred feet below its crest.
