Dreamweavers: Awakening

I woke up a short while later. We then bumped into one another on the way into school and soon realised it hadn’t just been a dream.’

  ‘Oh God,’ said Sophie. ‘So I really am stuck sharing this experience with my brother?’

  ‘I’m not exactly thrilled at the prospect myself, you know,’ growled Billy. ‘But I suppose there is some sense to it. We are twins after all.’

  ‘So, what then? We become part of this secret club and go around entering people’s minds and messing with their thoughts?’ asked Sophie. ‘Sounds rather creepy if you ask me.’

  ‘Didn’t you hear what Tristram and Mr Rockwell said?’ asked Daisy. ‘They need our help.’

  ‘And he did say we have a choice,’ put in the fairy.

  ‘That’s true,’ said Ryan. ‘And as messed up as this all seems, it does sound quite cool.’

  ‘Oh I bet you’d love to take your chance to become some sort of superhero,’ scoffed Billy.

  ‘Shut it Bambi,’ snarled Ryan. ‘You know, for a guy brought up on a council estate you’ve really got your head up your backside.’

  ‘And for a guy who has everything he wants, you’re a real loser,’ spat Billy.

  ‘Will you two stop it!’ cried Daisy. ‘Please? This is one of the best things that’s ever happened to me and I’m going to enjoy it no matter what. If you guys don’t want to share it with me that’s fine, but stop trying to bring one another down. It’s depressing.’

  Ryan and Billy glared at one another. Sophie appeared to be lost in a world of her own woes, while the remaining members of their group appeared perplexed and mildly amused by such a display of animosity.

  ‘I thought you guys were put together because you get along well,’ mused the eagle, preening its feathers.

  ‘We will, I mean, we do,’ said Ryan, still looking at Billy. ‘Well, most of us do. I guess we’re just getting used to the idea of this place.’

  ‘Well at least you’ve got friends to share it with,’ said the rock golem, stepping forwards. ‘I don’t know anybody here.’

  ‘Me neither,’ said the chameleonic boy nervously. His skin was changing hue faster than any of them could keep up with.

  ‘The number of people I know is precisely zero,’ declared the robotic goat boy.

  ‘So you see,’ said the eagle, spreading its wings and flapping up onto the railing. ‘You guys think you’ve got it tough, but try getting your head round this place on your own. Talk about feeling like an outcast.’

  Billy, Ryan and Sophie looked at one another, ashamed.

  ‘Oh all right, I’ll play along if I must,’ said Billy finally.

  The other two nodded their agreement.

  ‘Good,’ said the eagle. ‘Now, since we are all going to be working together we might as well get to know one another. My name is Moira Deane. I’m from Dublin. How about the rest of you?’

  She looked round the rest of the group.

  ‘Sophie Richards. Hemel Hempstead, England.’

  ‘Daisy Rose. Picklewick, near Hemel Hempstead.’

  ‘Billy Richards. I’m her brother,’ he nodded at Sophie.

  ‘I think we had that figured,’ remarked Moira.

  ‘Ryan Butler. I live next door to Dizz, I mean Daisy.’

  ‘Frédéric Marceaux. Lyon, France,’ said the goat boy.

  ‘Isabella D'Amato,’ said the fairy. ‘I’m from Italia.’

  ‘Earl Westwood,’ offered the cowboy. ‘Salt Lake City, Utah, though I now live with my folks in London, England.’

  ‘And I’m Katya Strauss from Dortmund,’ declared the golem.

  ‘What about you?’ Moira asked the chameleon boy, who was changing colour so quickly he was beginning to resemble a strobe light.

  ‘T… Teemu Varonen, F… Finland,’ he stammered.

  ‘Wow,’ said Daisy. ‘So we’re all from Europe, or at least living there.’

  ‘Makes sense doesn’t it?’ said Billy.

  The others looked at him blankly. He rolled his eyes.

  ‘Well, your compatriots across the pond won’t have gone to bed yet will they?’ he said, looking at Earl.

  ‘Oh I get it,’ said the cowboy, his slow drawl causing Billy to wince.

  ‘So depending on what time of day or, more correctly, night it is, this place will have more people from a particular continent in it at one time,’ the snow leopard continued.

  ‘Like game servers on the internet,’ added Ryan, cottoning on.

  ‘Exactly!’ came Tristram’s voice.

  His sudden reappearance startled all but Ryan, who was used to it by now.

  ‘Everything okay?’ Daisy asked.

  ‘Yes, yes, nothing to worry about,’ Tristram replied, although his expression read otherwise. ‘Anyway, it looks like you’re all getting to know one another which is a great start. Each of you will have your own strengths and weaknesses, and you will be able to learn from your colleagues as you go. Now, are you all happy enough for us to move forward and proceed with your training?’

  There were a few slow nods, but then Daisy stepped forward and declared, ‘Yes we are Tristram. We think it is most exciting and can’t wait to get started.’

  Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan saw Billy open his mouth to say something and then shut it again.

  Why did you have to be here? he thought. Dizz too, for that matter. Think how many points I’d have over Jack by now if it was just me and Soph.

  More importantly than that, Ryan was starting to harbour real doubts over whether school would ever be the same again. Yet his mind had brought him unbidden to this place and he seemed powerless to resist its draw. He would just have to deal with what the waking world had in store for him when he returned.

  Tristram led them back inside the Spire and into a small room on the same level. It was shaped like a wedge of cheese, squared off at what would have been the pointed end, and it had a roof that got progressively lower the further towards the centre of the Spire it went. They were directly beneath the lecture theatre they had been sitting in a short while earlier.

  There was little in the way of furniture, with only a couple of low benches to either side of the main feature of the room, which was a trapezoidal pool in its centre. It was quite shallow and there were a number of indistinct images circling around slowly within its waters. It was fed by a channel running from the innermost wall of the room, which was fitted with a sluice to control the flow of water. There was a similar device at the other end to let water out, but where it went from there they could not tell. In one corner of the room, leant up against the wall, was what looked like a load of old gym mats.

  The group perched themselves on the benches as best as they could, with only Sophie having any real difficulty. Tristram closed the door behind them and flicked a switch on the wall, which dimmed the main lights and illuminated another set that were built into the sides of the pool. Immediately the images in the water sprang into focus. He picked up a long cane from the floor and joined them.

  ‘So then,’ he said, looking round the group. ‘What do you see here?’

  ‘Dreams!’ exclaimed Daisy excitedly.

  ‘That’s right. This is what we call a stock pool. It allows us to isolate dreams from the main flow and hold them for an indefinite amount of time. It was originally built to allow people to study dreams and further their understanding in a controlled environment. There is one of these for each of the eight sources issuing from the Spire. Most are now used for teaching purposes, although there is some ongoing research that is still done when people have a chance. I imagine the other tutors took their groups straight into one of these rooms, but I thought it best to give you a bit of background before we literally jump in feet first.’

  The group were transfixed by the images floating by. There were about half a dozen all depicting benign environments such as fields of ripened corn, country villages lined with quaint, thatched cottages and grand, sweeping vistas of glacier-carved valleys.

  ‘They look pretty qui
et,’ said Ryan, expecting at any moment to see something truly outrageous happen in one of them.

  ‘That’s because at this time there is no-one there to occupy them and start the story off,’ said Tristram. ‘This tower prevents normal people from entering these dreams. They are like a blank canvas waiting to be painted on and it’s only when they get beyond the outer wall that they become accessible. This makes them perfect for teaching people about Dreamweaving, for as there is no story playing out it makes returning to this room a breeze. As you all know, the way to get to the Dream Isle when you are in a dream is to finish the story. People without the gift never make it that far because they are susceptible to outside influences such as the presence of others, alarm clocks and so on. They also react badly when it comes to stressful and emotional situations. Isabella, do you remember how you first came to be here?’

  The fairy looked at him sadly.

  ‘My cat, Rico. A car had hit him. I found him lying in the middle of the road.’

  ‘I remember,’ said Tristram gravely. ‘For most people that would have been too much. The sadness would have caused them to wake up. Then, I imagine, their first instinct would have been to find the cat and make sure it was all right. But that didn’t happen to you, did it?’

  Isabella shook her head.

  ‘I was kneeling beside him, praying, wishing that he was alive again and suddenly I felt his warm fur nuzzle against me.’

  ‘And that was your doing,’ smiled Tristram. ‘A short while later, Isabella ended up here. Her part in the tale had come to its conclusion. Now, Ryan here did something extra