Dreamweavers: Awakening

fit in just fine then, tin man,’ smiled Tristram. ‘Many of those you see here are newcomers like yourselves.’

  ‘Looks like a bunch of geeks all dressed up,’ scoffed Ryan.

  ‘I can assure you that you look no better,’ said Tristram sternly.

  Slowly they made their way up the terraces, the overhead walkway casting a broad shadow across them, which came as a welcome reprieve after so long spent in the sun. Ryan noticed that a lot of the people hanging around were looking skywards. He followed their gazes up the steep sides of the Spire to where eight transparent walkways led out to an octagonal observation ring.

  ‘That would make me feel sick,’ said Sophie, noticing what he was looking at.

  ‘I wouldn't come up there with me then,’ said Ryan. ‘I’d be jumping up and down on that floor.’

  ‘You’d better not,’ she replied.

  ‘Ryan! Ryan!’

  Daisy’s voice was unmistakable as she hurried through the crowd towards them. With all the time he had spent in Sophie's company Ryan had completely forgotten about her. His companion looked startled as Daisy appeared in front of them and she threw Ryan a quizzical glance.

  ‘Oh, hey Dizz,’ he said awkwardly. He hadn’t really toyed with the idea of being in the same place as both Sophie and Daisy and was having to think fast.

  ‘Oh my gosh you found a unicorn!’ said Daisy, clasping her hands together with joy.

  Sophie scowled as well as she could with her new face.

  ‘What’s she doing here?’ she asked.

  ‘She’s… err… like us,’ stuttered Ryan. He could see his hard-earned school reputation going quickly down the pan.

  ‘Oh Sophie, is that you?’ asked Daisy, recognising her voice.

  ‘Yes,’ said Sophie flatly. ‘You were right Ryan; this place is full of weirdos.’

  Daisy’s smile didn’t crack so much as a millimetre at her words.

  ‘It’s so funny that you are here too,’ she continued. ‘Guess who I bumped into just now?’

  If Sophie hadn’t been a quadruped she would have shrugged. Instead, she just stared back blankly. Suddenly she and Ryan noticed a creature slink its way out of the crowd behind Daisy. In actual fact they were looking straight through her, but it didn’t register with either of them. The creature was a young snow leopard, which padded round and sat down in front of them.

  ‘All right idiot?’ it said, addressing Sophie.

  Her jaw dropped, as did Ryan’s. The last thing either of them expected was to meet another person they knew.

  ‘Bambi? Is that you?’ asked Ryan.

  ‘It’s Billy. Or William to you,’ said Billy Richards. ‘And what are you supposed to be? The tin man’s ugly sister?’

  ‘And I was just starting to enjoy this place,’ said Sophie miserably.

  ‘Excuse me a second, can I interrupt?’

  It was Tristram, who had been watching their meeting with keen interest. The four of them turned to face him.

  ‘Who’s this?’ asked Billy, his teeth bared ever so slightly.

  ‘Tristram Ainsworth,’ said Tristram, offering his hand.

  Billy looked at it, then at his paw.

  ‘I’d not sure that’s really going to work, is it?’ he sneered.

  ‘Suit yourself,’ replied Tristram, brushing off Billy’s cold greeting. ‘Listen, I’m curious; do all four of you know one another?’

  ‘Of course!’ said Daisy gleefully. ‘We all go to school together.’

  The others exchanged dubious glances.

  ‘That’s my idiot brother,’ said Sophie, nodding at Billy.

  ‘And that’s my charming sister,’ replied Billy, licking one of his paws, before realising what he was doing and screwing up his face in disgust. ‘You’d never have thought we shared the same womb.’

  ‘Twins eh?’ said Tristram, raising his eyebrows.

  ‘In blood only,’ said Billy.

  Sophie snorted and glared at him.

  ‘And you’re all in the same year group?’ pressed Tristram.

  Ryan nodded.

  ‘Well, this is most unusual. You don’t know how fortunate you guys are. It is a rare thing for anyone to know another Dreamweaver in real life. For you all to be so well acquainted is unprecedented.

  ‘Unfortunate more like,’ said Sophie.

  ‘Will you shut it horse-face?’ said Billy. ‘Now, about this Dreamweaving lark. What’s it all about? It had better be worth it.’

  ‘Ah!’ said Tristram. ‘I think you’re about to find out.’

  He pointed to an old woman who had just come out of the main entrance to the Spire. She was dressed in green robes and appeared to have a mass of leaves sticking out of her scraggly hair. It was only when she raised her hands for silence that they realised she was a good deal more tree-like than it first appeared. Her long, spindly fingers had small buds growing on them and her skin had a silvery sheen that was broken in places by black lines and knots.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ she said, her voice creaking but carrying well across the silent crowd. ‘My name is Rubina Birchwood and I would like to welcome you all to the Dreaming Spire. It appears that Vice-Chancellor Rockwell may be a while longer, so we had best go inside and get started. Those of you that are newcomers, follow me. As for the rest of you; I’m sure, have places you need to be.’

  Nearly fifty of the gathered avatars exchanged nervous glances before following her inside. The remainder lingered, watching them go.

  ‘Off you go then,’ said Tristram chirpily. ‘Madame Birchwood will help you get settled in. I’ll catch up with you all later.’

  Ryan leaned over to Daisy.

  ‘I think we’d best keep these two apart,’ he whispered.

  ‘Okay,’ she smiled, and drifted up the terraces towards Billy, who had already started heading for the glass doors.

  ‘They make a good pair those two,’ said Sophie, glaring after them.

  ‘Yeah,’ chuckled Ryan nervously. ‘Pair of morons.’

  They climbed up the last couple of steps and went inside.

  The ground floor of the Spire was encircled by a broad walkway with a high ceiling, with glass walls on the outside and doors leading to the outer terraces at intervals. Like all of the Spire they had seen thus far, there were no curved edges, rather the design followed the octagonal theme they had observed earlier. They turned the first corner as they headed clockwise round the tower, then followed the group up a flight of stairs and arrived on another airy corridor.

  On this first floor there were doors on the inside wall, as opposed to the bare stone that prevailed on the level below. There was colour too, with each octant themed with a different shade; from red, through orange and yellow to green, then on into blues and finally magenta.

  In the yellow octant they headed up another flight of glass stairs, which brought them level with the balcony that led, via the series of walkways they had seen, to the outer wall. They went up one more level and then were ushered through a doorway, into the heart of the Spire.

  They entered a cavernous room shaped like an old Greek amphitheatre, with rows of seats of all shapes and sizes leading down to a stage at the bottom, upon which a lectern had been placed. The seats appeared to have been shaped out of the same rock that prevailed throughout the island. In the dark ceiling sweeping bands of lights were set, illuminating each seat individually. Ryan tried to find one without a light on it, but failed; clearly this was no place to be falling asleep in class. He found a space next to a low, carved piece of rock, which proved ideal for Sophie to sit back on her haunches and get comfortable.

  Across the lecture theatre it seemed that everyone, no matter what species, had managed to find a spot that just suited them. The room was barely a tenth full and everyone was spread out, so Madame Birchwood had to cast her gaze around to address them all from behind the lectern.

  ‘Once again, I would like to welcome you all to the Dreaming Spire. No doubt you are all brimming with questions, but res
t assured that everything will soon become clear. Each of you possesses a gift that has allowed you to find this place, so I want you to know that you are among equals here and have an exciting time ahead of you.’

  Ryan felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He turned to his right to see a boy slightly younger than him who, instead of arms, had four long tentacles protruding from each shoulder. He had no legs either, and appeared to hover gently a foot or so above the ground, as if suspended on invisible strings.

  The boy offered him a tentacle, which Ryan shook gingerly before subconsciously wiping his hand on his metal leg.

  ‘Micky Wallace,’ whispered the boy in a thick Scouse accent.

  ‘Ryan Butler,’ said Ryan, looking back down at Madame Birchwood, who was still rambling through her introduction.

  ‘Cool avatar,’ said Micky.

  ‘Err… thanks,’ replied Ryan, thinking that if he had been stuck as a hovering human-octopus crossbreed he would have thought the same.

  ‘I’m still getting used to mine,’ Micky continued. ‘I was a bit disappointed at first, but then I discovered I could do this.’

  He reached out in both directions and simultaneously tapped the shoulders of four people in front of them. They looked at one another bemusedly while Micky pretended nothing had happened.

  ‘Cool eh?’ he whispered, giving Ryan a sly wink.

  At that moment, the door to the lecture theatre opened and in strode Ulysses Rockwell, closely followed by a rather frightened-looking gazelle.

  ‘Ah, Vice-Chancellor, perfect timing as always,’ said Madame Birchwood, the bark on her face creasing into a smile.

  ‘My apologies for being late,’ replied Rockwell. ‘It took a