First World(28)
“It’s only laven juice. It won’t harm you. In fact, you’ll have a restful, healing sleep,” he said as he exited the room.
Well, at least we weren’t dying – a faint shimmer of relief before I drifted off.
The dreams hit me fast. I was standing in the throne room of a castle. People were collapsing all around me, crying, begging and clinging to one another. I walked through the white marble hall unnoticed, seeing nothing to cause such chaos. I made my way up to the large chairs and stopped at the centre pedestal. Resting on top was a purple pillow cushioning a pair of intertwined stones. One was my blue stone with a smaller red one sitting perfectly in its large side indent.
The royal pair.
The room disappeared. I found myself standing at the base of a black mountain. It took me a few minutes to figure out why everything looked so dark. It was all dead. Withered black plant tendrils curled around my boots. I shuddered; even in the dream, an oily darkness coated the air. My instincts were telling me to run, to leave, and never return. The world started to move in fast-forward, swirling before me. Backing up, I tried to escape, moving and falling ...
At that moment, I regained control of my consciousness. As I sat up, my eyes flew open. A low light threaded the room.
Lucy was still asleep, or passed out.
But I knew, instinctively, we needed to escape from here now.
Reaching over, I shook Lucy a few times, with the same result as the night before: there was no movement, just deep breathing.
I looked left and right. A large opaque jug sat on top of a small nightstand. Reaching over, I grabbed the vessel. Water splashed over the side, onto my hand. Feeling a little desperate, I flicked some drops at Lucy. She didn’t stir. Looking down at the jug, I sighed, before dumping the lot over her head.
“What ... where ... what the hell?” she muttered, sitting up quickly.
Her eyes were wide, but with the haze of sleep. She wrinkled her nose before sneezing loudly, and then she fell straight back into the pillows.
Oh, for the love of ... “Get up, Lucy. We need to get out of here before Mr. ‘Drug-pimp’ hands us over to the guards.”
One eye squinted as she shook her head a few times, water droplets flying off in all directions. Pulling herself up to sit, she eventually opened both eyes. It took a moment before she turned to me calmly.
“Abby ... there’d better be an outrageously good reason for why I’m wet?”
I shrugged, trying to nudge the jug off the bed. “I have no idea why; you were like that when I woke.”
Lucy closed her eyes. “Do not kill Abby ... she’s your only friend.”
I laughed in a loud rasp, almost choking on that unexpected comment.
She opened her eyes. Her answering smile was not nice.
“So, speaking of killing ... Deralick ... I’m going to kill him when he comes back to the room.” I decided reminding her of our common enemy was a good distraction.
“I’ll help you hide the body.” Lucy attempted to run her hands through her wet, ragged curls.
I laughed again.
One of her hands was completely entangled. It took many attempts and a few torn chunks of blond strands before it was freed.
I snorted at her second attempt to tame the mane. “My recommendation – shave your head.”
“I probably wouldn’t give ‘recommendations’ until you check your own reflection,” she said smugly.
Her hair was so tousled now it stuck completely out on the right side.
“So, quick question – did you have some whacked-out dreams last night?” Her eyes widened in horror. “I was locked in this freaky old-fashioned cell. There were people everywhere – some dead – dying. It was grisly.”
I shook my head. “That’s comforting; bet you can’t wait to sleep tonight.” Jumping off the bed, I stretched my limbs. Despite the drugging, I felt great. I had no aches or pains from yesterday. “I did have some pretty vivid dreams, but nothing like that.”
I pushed the black mountains from my thoughts. They were wrong and it would take many therapy sessions to delve into that one.
Lucy shuddered. “It barely felt like dreaming. I was there; the emotions were real and raw. I could smell the sweat and that salty tang of blood.”
I gagged at her graphic words.
She shook it off, her pixie features relaxing back into their usual cheeky grin. “Never mind, it was just a dream.” She hopped off the bed. “So what’s the plan? I’m not waiting around to be handed over like common criminals. Firstly, I’m anything but common. And, secondly, I need to brush my teeth. Urgently.”
I ran my tongue around my mouth. Deralick’s drug had left a powdery residue like a skin over my teeth.