I got it, he said gently. Going after Winter to kill him puts you in a sticky position, causes you to lose focus on what’s most important. Makes you divert attention from this impending confrontation with Century. I don’t need you to kill him for me. He strained, and I could almost see him in the back of my mind. I don’t want you to kill him for me.
“I’ll make sure he faces justice,” I said. “That’s within my power. If he shows himself, he’ll get taken down by us.”
You have bigger fish to fry.
I let myself fall back on my bed, curling up with a pillow in my arms. “Always. I always have something else I need to be doing nowadays. Always another thought for what we’re going to do next, how we’re going to gain advantage.”
You should spare a thought for yourself in there somewhere.
“I’ll think about that tomorrow,” I said then frowned. “Or the next day.” The fatigue was setting in, and I was weary. It was well after midnight, and I needed to be up by six. There was so much planning to do, things to consider and move into place, given what was coming our way. The soft bed against my face was a relief.
Like Zollers used to say, Zack went on, you can only do what you can do. After that, maybe it’s time to take a step back and let the rest handle itself?
It wasn’t terrible advice, but I was so tired. “Zollers ...” I murmured. Where was the good doctor, anyway?
I fell into a world of darkness and emerged in the waiting room of his office, the fishtank bubbling in the corner. The chair was hard underneath me, and I wondered for the thousandth time if he’d had any part in selecting them. Then I realized I wasn’t in his actual waiting room, I was in a dream, and everything had a fuzzy, surreal quality. It took me only a second after that to realize it wasn’t actually a dream.
“Ugh,” I said. “Dreamwalking.”
“Sienna Nealon,” came an echoing voice from beyond the door to his office, “Come on in.”
I appeared in the office, not bothering to walk through the door, and found myself on the sofa. Zollers was sitting in his usual chair, a pad of paper across his lap. He looked at me over his glasses, his hair grey around the temples.
“Well, well,” I said, “here we are, not really here.”
He shrugged expansively, and answered in his low, smooth voice, “So it would appear. You summoned me?”
“Not intentionally,” I said. I could feel tension, even in the dream. “I was talking about you before I fell asleep.”
He nodded, as though taking it all in. “So that’s how it works. Simple enough.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’m usually better about avoiding it, so ... sorry for the mix-up.”
“So you weren’t actually looking for me?”
I started to roll my eyes again but stopped. “I suppose I should be,” I said, a little reluctantly. “I mean, you do know more about the workings of Century than anyone else.”
“I do,” he agreed, wearing a little halfhearted smile. “And you’ve been in the business of putting a fight in place for them for the last six months. I’ll admit I’m a little ... disappointed you haven’t come to me for help.”
I gave him a cockeyed look. “You really want to come out of hiding for a hopeless fight?”
He shrugged. “Just being asked would mean something.”
I let a breath out through my teeth, making a low, hissing noise that wasn’t frustration so much as a reluctance to admit the truth. “I don’t like to dreamwalk. I hate it, actually.”
“Oh?” He looked at me over his glasses then pulled them off and held them up. “Do I really need these in a dream?”
“No,” I replied. “Or didn’t you catch my teleportation gimmick earlier? You only need them if I think you need them.” I waved a hand at him. “Now you don’t, anymore, so ... enjoy the benefits of clear vision.”
“Much appreciated, at least for as long as it lasts.” He put aside the glasses and stared at the pad on his lap. “Remarkable.”
“Yeah, I’m a real cornucopia of useless talents,” I said, folding my arms.
“I wouldn’t call them useless,” he said, looking back up at me with clear, unimpeded eyes. “But why don’t you like to dreamwalk?”
“God, this is surreal, even for a dream,” I said, looking at him with marked impatience. “Are you really counseling me in your office while I’m sleeping?”
“We fall back into familiar roles,” he said with a smile. “But as always, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”