Marshall’s senses ran together, bleeding into an ocean of colors and light. He let go of any tension left in his body and allowed himself to become swept up in the tranquil waves.
They swept over and through him, doing their best to strip away his sense of self—something even a seasoned dreamwalker had to work to avoid. Unless he wanted to become one among billions of other dreamers in the world, trapped in their own personal dreamscape, he had to hold on to himself.
It had been ages since he lost himself to the waves. Their promise of oblivion was sweet, but nothing could compare to being a dreamwalker in the Dreamscape. Once there, the only limitations he had were of his own making.
There were no unimaginative dreamwalker guardians; they would be useless to the cause.
Focusing on the feeling of being Marshall, he rode out the siren-like call of the waves and drifted with them. After an eternity—or possibly no time at all since time was meaningless in the ’Scape—the waves dissipated and gave way to billions of tiny stars.
Marshall sent out a soundless call, searching for the star that felt like home, and got an immediate answer. A massive, blue star that felt like Marshall grabbed his attention and pulled him in. Countless pinpoints of lights whizzed past him, faster and faster as the blue star grew larger.
Soon it had encompassed his entire being, painting him in a light so intense he was burning with it inside and out. Marshall fought to accept the entirety of his personal dreamscape. He took the pain and joy, fear and love—all the emotions that tore well-carved paths inside his soul—and simply allowed them to be.
When Marshall was younger, this part was effortless, but entering his personal dreamscape now was a battle. A familiar but vital one he didn’t dare lose. If he failed to accept all he was, he’d be leaving a chink in his soul that could be used against him.
Slowly the light lessened, and new colors popped up here and there, forming shapes. The world settled around him and up and down began to have meaning again. Overhead, he heard an eagle cry out a greeting.
Since Marshall was here on business rather than pleasure, he chose his true form—the one he walked around the Real in.
“Yay, the lake again,” Jack said unenthusiastically from several yards away.
Before them lay a placid lake, perfectly round with a single, large, black rock directly in the center.
Marshall squinted an eye, and the whole lake leaped sideways, appearing under Jack’s feet.
“That’s why I’m always nice to him inside his ’Scape,” Adelle said, walking up to join Marshall by the side of the lake.
“It’s not like I can control what it is upon entry,” Marshall said. Every person in the world had an inner Dreamscape that conformed to who she or he was the moment they arrived. Only dreamwalkers could reliably control their surroundings in the Dreamscape, and even they were only able to shape it after they entered it. “You’re lucky I even let you in here at all.”
“I know.” Jack’s eyes grew serious for a split second before lapsing back to their usual rainbow sparkle. “So, where to from here, boss?”
“I think we should go to the Blaike colony and see what it can tell us. Chances are good Stella ordered everyone to stay awake for the foreseeable future, so I doubt we’ll get access to any personal Dreamscapes tonight.”
“What are we looking for?” Adelle was touching each of her nails in turn, changing their color with each tap.
“Any hint of nightmare activity, for starters. I seriously doubt Cymbeline can open demon portals. With his lack of training, he was lucky he managed anything at all in the cemetery.” Marshall spared a quick thought to his hair, making sure it looked acceptable, and for good measure, he told it not to get messy regardless of what happened to it.
“He’s lucky he didn’t kill everyone there, including himself,” Adelle said with a frown.
Now that her nails were a rainbow of colors, Adelle turned her attention to her clothes. In the Real, they all dressed for the job, wearing dark clothes that were loose enough to move easily in, but form-fitting enough that they wouldn’t catch on anything. But in the ’Scape, all they had to do was tell their clothes to have the properties they wished. If Adelle wanted to, she could prance around in a string bikini while enjoying the protection of full body armor.
Marshall was kind of glad she didn’t. He wasn’t a fan of the idea of being forced to work with his half-naked sister. In their line of work, they often ended up getting close and personal with each other. Dreamwalkers were often rumored to be sexually adventurous, but he would never be that adventurous.
Just… no.
Adelle put a hand to her chest, and the dark cloth of her shirt melted and twisted into something silky and colorful that matched her nails.
“Can I drive?” asked Jack, reaching out for Marshall and Adelle’s hands.
“Have at.” Marshall placed his hand in Jack’s and motioned for Adelle to do the same.
Marshall’s dreamscape faded into a blur of watercolors, and the terrain shifted and warped until the three were standing outside a monolithic castle overlooking a storm-swept sea.
“It looks perfectly normal from here,” Jack said, squeezing each of his teammate’s hands slightly before letting go. “Shall we go in?”
Marshall nodded. There was no sense in wasting time snooping around the outside hoping for clues when what they were looking for was most likely inside.
Adelle sniffed delicately. “It figures that the Blaikes would have a medieval castle as their colony. I expect we’ll see downtrodden serfs any minute now.”
“Observation mode only, guys. There’s no point in letting anyone know we’re here until we know what’s going on.” Marshall waved a hand, and a hole large enough for them to fit through opened in the wall.
After they had all climbed through, he waved his hand and closed the hole behind them. Once the hole was gone, Marshall felt something akin to a water faucet being turned off—only inside his body. He didn’t feel unduly alarmed, so he paid it no mind.
He’d never been inside the Blaike colony and was surprised to see the inside matched the outside, which was uncommon. In the ’Scape, things were rarely what they seemed at first glance. He would have been less surprised to discover an old western saloon than what he did find—an empty courtyard that looked and smelled like it belonged in the 1400s.
It looked as though Marshall’s caution was unwarranted, though. His senses told him the whole place was empty.
“Nary a serf to be seen,” Jack said in a hushed tone.
“It all seems perfectly normal, though,” Adelle said.
Marshall looked around. “Maybe so, but we should still look around. Even if no one is asleep right now, there should be something here. A colony from a family as old as the Blaikes should be self-sustaining even without its dreamers.”
Early dreamwalkers discovered that—aside from having a personal dreamscape—groups of people with a common interest, such as families, companies—or in modern times, fandoms for television shows—could subconsciously create a colony for like-minded dreamers.
Most people tended to have a main colony that housed their personal Dreamscape, but they weren’t limited to it. As a person’s interests changed throughout their life, they might find themselves visiting dozens of colonies.
Team Fire had a minuscule colony for just the three of them, and each housed their personal dreamscape in it. Of course, being dreamwalkers, their colony had layers upon layers of protection and modifications added to it, so it couldn’t accidentally or intentionally be entered by an outsider.
Marshall sent Jack to inspect the towers then instructed Adelle to see if she could find any underground passages. He didn’t need to set up a link to join the team this time. In the ’Scape, it took nothing more than a thought to communicate with another dreamwalker.
As Marshall explored the outer bailey, he yawned and rubbed his eyes, idly noting the absence of animal life. Not that there had to be, but why would the Blaike family’s subconscious create a perfect replica of a medieval castle and not add in the ubiquitous horses, dogs, and cats one assumed they’d find there?
Now that he thought about it, the fact that he had ruminated on the concept long enough meant that at least a mouse should have manifested itself by now.
It wasn’t until he passed though the inner portcullis that he noticed the strange thrumming sensation building under his skin.
It was time for him to check in with his team, so he sent, :Everything is perfectly normal here. Did either of you see anything interesting?:
Adelle’s thoughts touched his. :All I could find was a set of catacombs stuffed to the rafters with a lot of really gross dead people. Otherwise, not a single soul to be seen. Perfectly normal.:
:Jack?:
No response.
:Addy, have you seen anything alive here? Anything at all?:
She gave the mental equivalent of a shrug. :No, but that’s…:
