“She let you see her?”
“Sometimes. Her fur looked insanely soft, but she bit me the one time I tried to pet her,” Marshall said wryly. Rooting through his pockets, he found a mini bag of M&Ms. Knocking again, he placed it on the floor next to the wall and patted it gently before standing.
“Are you two coming?” Adelle’s head peeked around the corner, looking put out. “This was your idea, after all.”
“Keep your bloomers on; we’re coming,” Jack said affectionately. “Our boy here was being nostalgic.”
Marshall looked down at the floor where he’d placed his offering and was pleased to see it had vanished.
“I think she remembers you.” Jack ruffled Marshall’s hair, earning a swat.
With a look of annoyance, Marshall did his best to smooth his hair down. Once he was satisfied no real damage had been done, he shoved Jack ahead of him. “You go first.” He knew Jack wasn’t above messing his hair up a second time.
Normally Marshall hated it when people messed up his hair. Even if he didn’t have much control over his life, at the very least he should have control over his body. But it didn’t bother him half as much when Jack did it. Marshall didn’t let him know that, because if he did, Jack would probably do it constantly. Then other people might get the idea that they could do it too…
“Sure thing, boss.” Jack gave Marshall a cheeky salute and skipped ahead, a movement that looked bizarre on a man of his size, but as Marshall watched, it became less so, as though the universe itself changed to accommodate him. Dreamwalkers sometimes had a strange effect on their surroundings, but the effect was always more extreme for Jack.
Marshall caught up with everyone at the end of another long hallway, stopping at a set of double doors. Clayton stood in front of them with the air of a game show host ready to present a prize. Once Marshall joined them, Clayton opened the doors and led them inside a lavishly appointed room that could have easily accommodated twice their number.
Marshall was generally inclined to drop his body in any unoccupied spot regardless of its comfort level when he needed to access the ’Scape, so his reaction to the plush, red-velvet couches and chairs was a polite, if noncommittal nod.
Clayton’s face looked as though someone had thrown a rock through his car window in the face of Marshall’s lack of appreciation, but Adelle’s exclamation of pure joy when she threw herself on the closest couch distracted him from his dismay.
Adelle wriggled deep into the soft cushions with an expression of complete bliss, and she said, “Don’t mind him, Clayton. On our last job, he jammed himself in between two boulders and left his body in the forest for over a day. The man doesn’t appreciate the creature comforts of life.”
“Rice Krispies Treats!” On the far side of the room, Jack had taken a large, silver lid off a plate to discover a mountain of cakes and cookies. “Clayton, I could marry you,” he mumbled through a mouthful of food.
Mollified, Clayton joined him, excitedly pulling lids off other trays to showcase his offerings. “These trays have various cheeses, meats, vegetables, and crackers. And the carafes have several different kinds of gourmet coffee, hot water for tea, and a variety of different kinds of juice.”
Suddenly starving, Marshall hurried over before Jack ate everything. Between him and Marshall, they could pack away an alarming amount of food. Being a dreamwalker took a lot of energy, and all three members of the team always had their pockets loaded with snacks just to keep them going between meals, but with Marshall and Jack both topping out well over six feet, they had it worse than Adelle.
“Save some for me!” Adelle shouted from her position on the couch and was about to get up until she saw Clayton rush toward her with a loaded plate in his hands. “Thank you. You’re a doll.” She gave him a wink.
Clayton turned as red as his hair, backed up, and stumbled over a chair, falling into it awkwardly. Once he managed to extricate himself, his hair was a riot of curls and his clothes were rumpled. Valiantly, he tried to pat and tug himself into a more respectable shape while the whole team did their best to not react.
“Ahem,” Clayton pulled at his collar as though it were choking him. “Is there anything else you require before I go back to my tasks?”
“This will be plenty, thank you, Clayton,” Marshall assured him.
Clayton was out the door as soon as Marshall had finished speaking, and the team heard a shaky sigh as soon as it closed behind him.
“I think he’s cute,” Adelle said.
“Leave him alone,” Jack said. “The poor man would explode if you gave him any more attention, and then what good would he be? Think of Samantha. Or if not her, think of my snacks!” He shook a piece of Vermont cheddar at Adelle.
When Marshall realized he wasn’t breathing, he stopped shoveling food into his mouth and focused on getting enough air into his lungs. After all his time as a guardian, it continued to amaze him how hungry he could get during an investigation. It would be easier to plan for if he used the same amount of energy all the time, but it always varied. Until today, he hadn’t had to use his magic outside of the ’Scape in weeks, and he was paying for it now.
Marshall stuffed a pig in a blanket into his mouth and headed to the couch next to Adelle’s. Once he was relatively certain he could speak without choking, he said, “Once you guys are done eating, join me in my Dreamscape, and we’ll go from there.”
Jack nodded as he made his way through a pile of chocolate-covered pretzels. “What are we in for today? Lake again?”
“It isn’t always the lake,” Marshall grumbled as he plopped down and dropped his head on the arm of the couch.
“Definitely the lake,” Adelle agreed, settling herself into a more comfortable position on her couch.
“It’s nearly always the lake, Marshall,” Jack said around a mouthful of food. He stood between a loveseat and a fainting couch, trying to decide which one was more likely to fit his bulk. Eventually, he settled on the fainting couch and somehow managed to not look completely ridiculous on it.
Marshall closed his eyes and concentrated on his breath. Immediately his nose itched, and rather than scratching it, he focused on accepting the sensation. Before he could fully accept it, five new spots on his body began to itch, and he expanded his consciousness to accept those as well. As soon as he fully embraced the sensations, they subsided, and it was then that he began to notice the sound of his companions as they settled into their couches. He heard Adelle sigh and heard Jack struggle to find a comfortable position on his tiny couch. When the sounds came to him, he let them drift through him as though he were made of light rather than solid matter.
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.
