Chapter One
A Song of Sand and Salt
"Dream is the only place that's good," Tasha whispered. "It's
our place. Remember that, Cade."
She clutched him from her hospital bed,
wrists bandaged. She was his twin, only twenty-two, but her face looked so spent,
so old, her eyes sunken and her skin ashen. The sheets wrapped around her like
a shroud. Cade could only nod and hold her hands.
"I remember," he whispered with a dry
throat.
"If you die, Cade--"
"Tash--"
"Just listen! You never listen. If you
die, Cade, let your spirit find its way to Dream. Wait for me at Sunflower
Corner on top of Dandelion Hill. Remember the mulberry tree we planted
there?"
Cade remembered that too. He nodded. "We're
not going to die, Tasha."
Her eyes were moist. Nurses walked outside
the room, wheeling carts, but here they were alone. The curtains were closed,
shielding them from the other beds, leaving them in a cocoon of sheets,
bandages, white walls and green tiles.
"Someday we all die," Tasha said. "But
Dream lives forever. Our place." She shut her eyes.
Cade sighed, looking down upon her. She was
so pale, her black hair wispy, purple sacks under her eyes. How many times had
it been now? Three? Four? His sister had been trying to kill herself since that
day... that day of blood and fire, that day that left them alone in the world,
scarred. The shrapnel had broken his body; it had broken Tasha's soul.
"Meet me in Dream tonight," she
said, eyes red, crusty, as if she would cry but had no tears left. "Tonight
we meet at Seashell Shore. Okay, Talon?"
Talon. He nodded, hands in his pockets. "Okay,
Sunflower."
Her eyes closed and she slept. Her chest rose
and fell as the ceiling fan creaked, as nurses walked by, as the city outside
bustled with five million souls flowing through gray streets. Cade turned away.
He marched down the hallways, scarred hands
hidden in his pockets, head bent down, staring at the hospital floor. Green
tiles stared up at him. He hated those green tiles. He hated his twin sister
sometimes. He had to pause, drink from a water cooler, breathe, calm himself. Keep
breathing.
He remembered the country they had fled. He
remembered the day that had torn open his hands, taken their parents, taken
Tasha's joy and made her this shell of pain and memories.
"She wasn't even there that day,"
he whispered, jaw tight.
His fists clenched in his pockets. She
wasn't even there when the bombs roared, when the fire burned, when the blood
and guts and limbs flew across the street. No. She had been at home that
day, painting her landscapes, while he was burned and cut and--
Cade pushed the thought down, took deep
breaths, and bit his lip so hard that it hurt. No, she hadn't been there, but
the shrapnel that filled him, that had ripped apart their parents, dug through
Tasha nonetheless. When she cut her wrists, time and again, it wasn't her razor
blades that drew her blood. It was that old, jagged shrapnel.
Cade pulled his hands from his pockets, looked
at their scars, and shoved them back in. He kept walking. Soon he was outside. He
headed home. Meet me in Dream tonight, she had said. The only place
that's good. She would sleep at the hospital, where she spent so much of
her time... after slicing her wrists... for visiting those doctors who loved
big terms like "post traumatic stress disorder" or "clinical
depression"... sometimes just to visit her friends. Dream. Where no
pain or memories of distant wars can dwell.
Cade got on the subway, a rusty old train
coated with graffiti, the floor a field of fluttering flyers and newspapers. The
commuters crowded around him, jostling against him as the train swayed. Tracks
screamed and the driver announced the stops in a voice so muffled, it was
impossible to understand.
At his subway stop, beggars reached for coins
and youths huddled smoking in corners. Cade avoided the main street and walked
home through the cemetery. He moved past tombstones coated with ivy and
flowers, and under maples and elms shedding their leaves for autumn. Squirrels
drank from stone fountains and mausoleums of marble columns frowned. He always took
this route, searching for the hawk Windwhisper, remembering. This was the place
where they had first discovered Dream.
"Our place," Tasha said to him
every time, clutching him desperately, clinging as if he could save her from the
abyss that forever gaped beneath her. "Where everything is good."
He met Tasha there that night, as they had
planned. He lay in bed, alone, his apartment silent and hot around him. The
only sound was his pet hamster scurrying in his cage, racing through paper
towel rolls. It took Cade an hour to drift off to sleep, but finally he was there
again, their place. Seashell Shore. She awaited him.
And they were no longer Cade and Tasha, the
refugees, the orphan twins. In Dream they were Talon and Sunflower, and she was
happy, and he was unscarred and whole, no shrapnel inside him. Talon and
Sunflower, prince and princess of the wilderness.
"Yalene, Talon!" Sunflower
called to him in the language of dreams. She stood atop a mossy boulder that
rose from the sea. Waves sprayed her feet and sunlight glowed around her. Feathers
adorned her lustrous black hair, and she wore raiment of silk and gold. A silver
helm topped her head, topaz bracelets encircled her wrists instead of bandages,
and light danced in her eyes. Around her, green waves whispered over seashells
and sparkling stones.
"Yalene, Sunflower," he
replied. He walked toward her, the sand caressing his feet. A band held his
hair back from his forehead, and he wore a necklace with a stone talisman
shaped as a talon, the stone that gave him his Dreamname. He carried a lyre
over his back, and paintbrushes hung from his belt; here in Dream, they could
make music and art as they pleased, for they lived in muse.
"I'm glad I chose Seashell Shore for
tonight," she said, the sun in her smile. Whales leapt in the distance
behind her, and birds of paradise soared overhead. "I was considering
Tropical Canopy, or maybe Fruit Forest, but you know what? I think Seashell
Shore is my favorite among the places we've discovered so far in Dream."
Cade helped her off the boulder, and they
walked through the shallow water. Smooth stones glowed beneath their feet like
jewels alight. "I like Seashell Shore too," Cade said. "Someday
I'd like to visit the birch forest in the west, where the faeries live. We'll
walk for as long as we can, and see what new places we find."
"I'd like that too, Talon. But not this
night. Tonight let's swim!"
She splashed him, soaking him with sea water,
and ran toward the depths. Soon she was swimming as dolphins somersaulted
around her. Cade swam beside her through the sparkling waters.
"Race me to Coconut Island!" she
said. They swam, laughing, until they reached an islet, seven coconut trees
growing upon it. They lay on the sand, spent, and found a basket waiting
beneath one tree. Inside were sandwiches and fruit, and they ate in the shade
of the palms. Ahead across the water, above Seashell Shore, the mountains of
Dream soared, verdant.
Dream. Our place.
"It's almost time to wake up," Cade
said in a small voice, feet in the cool water, hands jingling seashells.
"No," she said and clutched his
shoulder, voice desperate, eyes haunted, fingers digging. "Don't talk of
the real world here. Here there are no Cade and Tasha. Here there are only
Talon and Sunflower, prince and princess of the wilderness. Nobody can hurt us
here, Cade. Nobody."
Cade cracked open a coconut against a rock. "Okay.
For a few moments more."
She looked at him. "I'm so glad
Windwhisper showed us this place, Talon. I wish I never had to leave."
But then he was awake, lying in his bed.
He sat up. From outside came the sounds of
trucks and sirens, and gray morning light slanted onto him, dim under the
clouds. A garbage truck backed up outside his window, beeping like some great
melancholy bird, filling Cade's room with the smells of smog and rotten fruit. Cade
tossed off his blankets and stood up.
The boiler was out again; he showered in
cold, hard water. At least there are no arguments over the shower this
morning, he thought. Not with Tasha away. Numb, he pulled on a golf shirt,
brushed his hair, brushed his teeth. He ate a bagel on the subway, got to work
late, and snuck in without the boss seeing. He spent nine hours typing, hunched
over, typing and typing and telling himself, "Fourteen dollars an hour,
just keep typing." Scarred hands over the keyboard. Happy hour tonight,
Cade? Not tonight. Family thing. My sister, she's sick.
Subway again, on his way home, the commuters
jostling against him, newspapers and coffee cups tumbling around his feet, the
train like a boat on waves. Like the waves at Seashell Shore.
Tasha was already home when he got there,
wrists still bandaged. She sat alone by the window, her back to him, a silhouette
against the city lights. She turned to face Cade, and for a moment her face was
blank, her eyes lifeless. Then she forced a smile. "Hi, twin
brother."
"Hello, Tash. It's good to see you
back."
And that was it.
That was all they needed. Prince and
princess of the wilderness.
They ate mac and cheese in silence, and Cade drank
four beers on the balcony, looking out over the gray city below, the millions
of people scurrying down smoggy streets. Gray, the color of forgetting. He
tried to forget. He spent every evening trying to forget. A siren wailed in the
distance and dogs barked.
Tasha sat in the living room, knitting, a
blanket pulled over her knees. Their mother had loved to knit. Cade could still
see her in his mind--knitting in the rocking chair by the fireplace, humming
old tunes, graying hair pulled into a bun. He barely remembered their parents
anymore, the old country, anything before that day of fire, that day that broke
their family. But he remembered the knitting. He remembered that.
"I'll be at Sunflower Corner
tonight," Tasha said to him, passing by the balcony on her way to bed. "Meet
me there."
Cade sipped another beer.
That night he went into bed and found himself
standing among sunflowers six feet tall. The flowers were like dinner plates
full of seeds, bright yellow, their leaves green and wide. The sky stretched
endless and blue above, ants ran along the brown crumbly earth, and
swallowtails flew past him, leaving wakes of sparkling powder. The air smelled
fresh like flowers and soil and health, and the sunlight glistened.
"Where are you, Sunflower?" he called,
the talon stone glinting against his chest.
He heard her laugh ahead. "Find
me!"
He ran between the sunflowers, sandals
kicking up earth. He glimpsed purple and golden scarves, and heard his twin
laugh, and he chased. They ran, playing, as they would as kids before the wars,
for in Dream they could be as children reborn. Soon he reached Dandelion Hill,
which rose like a huge bowl from the sunflowers, covered with swaying
dandelions. He heard Tasha laugh, and he saw her running up the hill. He
followed and caught her by the mulberry tree they had planted, her favorite
place in Dream.
"Yalene, Talon, god of
Dream!" She spread her arms to her sides, her scarves blowing, and leaned
her head back. The breeze streamed through her hair, and her face was serene,
smiling, her eyes shut.
"Yalene, Sunflower."
They ate from baskets of fruit and breads,
and walked among the flowers, and hiked until they reached Grass Sea, where
rolling plains of grass swayed. In the distance grew misty forests, and beyond
the trees soared cobalt mountains capped with snow.
Tasha inhaled deeply. "Dream. I love how
it smells here."
"It's time to wake up soon."
She punched his shoulder. "Stop it,
Talon! Or I'll kick your butt." Suddenly she gasped. "Look!" She
pointed to the sky.
Cade looked, shielding his eyes against the
sun. The hawk glided beneath the fluffy white clouds, his shadow racing upon
the grass. Windwhisper. Their guardian of Dream, the holder of its secrets and
wonders.
"Do you remember when we first met
Windwhisper in the cemetery?" Tasha asked.
"Of course." He watched the hawk as
it soared.
"He chose us, Talon. Remember that
always. He chose us to be princes of Dream. He gave it to us, to be our
place."
Soon the hawk disappeared into the distance,
and Cade woke up in bed. It was morning.
And so they forgot.
And so they escaped.
They ran through the forests of Dream,
fleeing that day, that terror and blood, the shrapnel that still coursed
through Cade. They swam through the sea, and climbed the flowery mountains, and
ran across the meadows, never thinking of the world, their parents whom they
had left buried behind in a far country. Dream was beautiful. The only place
that's good. The only place that matters. Talon and Sunflower, chosen by
Windwhisper.
And so they lived from dream to dream.
Until the beast arrived.
* * * * *
At first they only sensed the creature. It invaded as a whisper,
a chill on the wind and a tingle up the spine. They were exploring Tropical
Canopy, parrots and ferns around them, waterfalls trickling, when they suddenly
shivered. The wind howled, but then the parrots chirped again, and sunlight
fell between the trees and vines.
"What was that?" Cade whispered. "It
felt... wrong."
Tasha was pale. She bit her lip and shook her
head vigorously. "Nothing. There is nothing wrong in Dream. There never
will be."
Cade looked around, but saw only sunlight,
waterfalls, flowers and birds. Nothing. Just a cold wind.
But the next day, they saw tracks in the sand
of Seashell Shore--smoking tracks, black and sticky, clawed and raising a foul
stench. Cade knelt to examine them, but Tasha kicked sand over them, and kept
kicking until they were gone. "This does not belong in Dream," was
all she said, fists clenched.
"What made those tracks?" Cade whispered.
He could still smell them, a smell like old fire and blood, a smell like that
day worse than any other. It's as if that memory walks here, a living thing,
Cade thought but said nothing.
Tasha squared her shoulders. "I don't
care. This is Dream. I won't allow anything bad here."
They kept playing, running, swimming, racing,
laughing as children. The thing lived there with them, and they ignored it,
refused to fear it; this was their world, endlessly beautiful and full of
magic.
And yet the thing lingered.
Over time, they came to call this presence
the Crunge, their beast of haunting, though how or when they first imagined its
name, Cade did not know. Sometimes they only saw its tracks or droppings. Sometimes
they spotted bits of its foul, oily fur upon trees or stones. Once Cade thought
he glimpsed the beast, great and shaggy, walking between the trees, but when he
looked again it was gone.
"I don't care about this Crunge,"
Tasha said, though Cade noticed that her knuckles were white around the spear
she carried. "Talon and Sunflower are lords of Dream, prince and princess
of the wilderness, and they can defeat any invader."
Cade wore a quiver of feathered arrows over
his back, and held a bow in his hand. Yet still, for all their weapons and
worries, they swam in the seas, and ran through the forests and meadows, and
ate among the flowers. Every night they visited their place, sometimes Beluga
Beach, sometimes Butterfly Valley or Caterpillar Meadow, and whenever they saw
smoking tracks, they turned the other way. They made music and they painted
murals across the sides of cliffs and great boulders.
"I won't flee that place!" Tasha
said one morning, sitting in their kitchen, eating cereal before Cade had to
leave for work. "It's our special place, Cade. Remember that. I'm so happy
there. It's the only place I'm happy. Windwhisper gave it to us."
Cade sighed and lowered his head. "I
know."
That night they met in Fruit Forest, where
fruits of every kind grew. They ate pears, apples, apricots, kiwis, grapes,
until they could eat no more. They lay upon a sunny knoll, watching the
monarchs that flew above. Cade patted his belly, and Tasha wove flowers into a
tiara for her hair.
"When I die, my spirit is going to find
this place," she said, as she always said. "I'll travel to Dream and
be happy here forever."
Happy here forever. Cade looked at the fluffy clouds,
and his hands played with the grass. He opened his mouth to answer Tasha, and
then a shadow fell upon them.
Oily fur loomed, a howl tore the air, and
claws came down.
Tasha screamed and lashed her spear, but
claws splintered the wood. Cade nocked an arrow, but saw only rotting fangs
dripping saliva. And then he was awake in his bed, and he heard Tasha screaming
in her bedroom.
He met her in the hallway of their apartment.
She was pale and shaking, her hair tousled, her fingernails digging into her
palms. Bloody scratches ran down her shoulder.
"Tasha, you're hurt!"
She leaned her head against the wall,
trembling. Cade rushed to her and held her.
"Cade," she said, eyes huge and
haunted, "we can no longer visit Dream."
Tears filled her eyes. She spent the rest of
the night weeping.
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