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I stiffened, just as I did whenever that infamous Weaver was mentioned. Even though Stardust’s own investigations into the matter had so far yielded very little information, I still had an uneasy feeling that the Weaver in question was Mother.
“I’ve heard many whispers about that Weaver,” I began shakily. “Why was she suspended?”
“No one knows,” Angel said. “The Council has kept the entire affair quiet, never even speaking her name; no one even knows whether she was a Dreamer or Nightmare.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why do you ask?”
“I—” My mouth had gone dry. How could I answer without drawing suspicion to myself? If Mother truly was the Weaver everyone talked about in fearful whispers, and they learned of my connection to her…that would prove disastrous; my position in the Dream World was precarious enough as it was.
Thankfully I was spared from answering by a timely arrival. A Dreamer with wavy blue hair, coral designs painted on his face, and an outfit resembling frothy ocean waves approached on a foamy blue cloud. It was Caspian, Angel’s Pair, a Dreamer I’d begun to know quite well considering he and Angel were preparing for their official Pair Ceremony, which I’d confirmed acted as a sort of magical marriage. Not only was he a cheerful Dreamer with a contagious smile, but I enjoyed hearing his stories about his side profession as a Seed Harvester—those who scoured the Earth for the details needed to create the seeds grown in the Cultivating Fields.
Angel lit up and rushed over to embrace him. His arms looped around her waist. “Good morning, Sugarplum.” They shared a kiss before he pulled away, keeping one arm securely wound around Angel, and handed Iris a bag of colorful seeds. “Freshly harvested seeds for my favorite sister-in-law.”
Iris immediately began examining them, cradling each seed in her palm like it was a precious gem. “These details are wonderful. Thank you.”
“I scoured Earth for the highest quality details for you to grow. Only the best from me.”
Iris’s brow furrowed as she lifted a seed from the bag, one stained black, nothing like the vibrant ones she’d previously run her fingers through. “What’s this, Caspian?”
His easygoing smile faded. He released Angel and crouched on his heels in front of Iris for a closer look. “That looks like a nightmare seed.”
“There are more. See?” Iris sorted through the seeds and held some on her palm, which were as dark as the first. Caspian took them from her, staring at them in disbelief.
“Impossible,” he murmured. “My powers are incapable of capturing details other than those befitting dreams…unless the whispers are true.”
Iris had gone pale. “The balance is tipping?”
“It’s only a rumor,” Caspian said hastily, eying her pallor with great concern. “Rumors I have no doubt have begun thanks to the unusual dream dust thefts. But…yes, some are wondering if those thefts are only one manifestation of that possibility.”
Foreboding knotted my stomach, tight and painful.
Caspian frowned at the seeds in his palm, caressing them with his thumb as if he could wipe away the darkness staining them. “It is one possible explanation, though I’d hate for it to be true. I can’t even begin to imagine what sort of dark magic could transform a dream seed into a nightmare one, or how such a thing could be managed without anyone seeing it occur. But if it is the work of a Nightmare….this is really bad. If Dreamers have fewer seeds to plant in the cultivating fields, then there will be fewer details to create dreams, which will result in more nightmare winnings.”
His words swirled like a storm through my anxiety-laden mind. Suddenly the beautiful morning was no longer as lovely or peaceful as it’d been before our sobering conversation. Although it was still filled with the usual golden sunshine, the caressing, floral-scented breeze, and the laughter of the Dreamer children playing nearby, shadows and darkness lurked beneath the surface, slowly spreading.
I watched young Dreamers run around the park, their countenances filled with smiles as they attempted to capture a butterfly with their glittery power, powers that looked as feeble as mine had before acquiring Mother’s dream dust. How would the tipping balance affect them and their future, the future of everyone else in the Dream World? Would their powers forever undeveloped because of whatever forces were tipping the balance?
I set my jaw. That couldn’t happen. But what could a new Dreamer such as myself—one struggling just to earn my place in this magical world—possibly do with my own limited powers?
Chapter 16
Isat crosslegged in the air in Maci’s bedroom as I waited for Darius while Stardust floated nearby, poring over her detective notes. I twirled my most recently acquired dream jar in my hands, examining every detail of the dream, as if it could provide me with the elusive answers about the nature of my rare powers and how I could potentially harness them to prove I belonged in the Dream World.
I’d been collecting dreams after almost every weaving, both needing the solace that came from that familiar activity and hoping to better understand my own powers. But just as my own dreams at night were elusive, the answers to my myriad of questions remained out of reach, as slippery as the snippets of dreams I managed to capture. For despite my increasing powers, I still had yet to capture a full dream.
“Nemesis?”
I startled at Darius’s voice and hastily returned the dream to my bag. Questions filled his eyes as his gaze followed the movement and lingered on where I’d hidden the dream. My heart pounded in trepidation. Had he seen what I was hiding?
“What is it?” I asked airily.
He said nothing for a moment, a silent battle in his expression, as if debating whether or not to confront me. Finally he sighed. “Are you ready for the Weaving?”
I managed a nod and shakily removed my needle and thread, but it was impossible to concentrate on my weaving when I felt the heat of Darius’s gaze either watching my every move or lingering on the bag where I’d hidden the dream, his look suspicious. My apprehension increased. My secrets were no longer safe if he suspected I was hiding something.
My fears were confirmed the following evening when Stardust and I arrived at my Weaving. Darius seemed to have been waiting for quite a while. He sat perfectly motionless in the air, turning a familiar glowing pink jar over in his hands, his brow puckered in concentration as he studied it.
I immediately recognized the jar—it was the very one he’d stolen from my bedroom, the one he’d promised to one day return. Like all his previous promises, it was yet another he’d broken. He looked up at my arrival before hastily pocketing my dream.
“That doesn’t belong to you.” I snapped.
