Chapter thirty-six

One dream, two dreamers

 

‘Who are you, pale giant?’ asked Viola, staring at the woman’s light-haloed face. She recognised it all too well – it was the witch in her dreams.

‘I am Lady Meringue of Frampton; heir to Castle Beebo’ said Celia. Her face creased with concentration, ‘no – that’s surely not right...’

She tried again

‘I am the Great Blondina – conjuror and prestidigitator; renowned from Murvale to Hinter – ideal for children’s parties; guaranteed no smut...’

She breathed in.

‘I am ... human, female, frail and pale... ’

She bowed, apparently satisfied

‘And who are you, little dark one?’

Viola knew exactly who she was; but she couldn’t seem to articulate it properly.

‘I am Princess Tarquina; leader of the minnow people, friend of all fishes, great enemy of the dry wastes’

She closed her mouth – where did those words come from? She resolved to say nothing more for a while...

‘I lied’ she blurted out, completely against her will, ‘I am Iona, gardener to the gods; I grow tentacles in a snake’s garden’

‘Really?’ said Celia, ‘that sounds a bit odd...’

Viola breathed in.

‘I am not quite as I appear...I hope that that’s becoming clear’

‘It is five steps beyond limpid, so clarified that...  ’ said Celia, ‘...I can see the your lady’s ashes through it’

Celia lowered the lamp for a second, coughing and mumbling.  Then she raised the lantern again. She put the index finger of her free hand to her lips.

‘Shush!’ she mouthed, shaking her head. Viola was happy to comply; talking didn’t seem to be getting them anywhere.

Celia retreated back down the corridor, waving her lantern to and fro. After a little while the light illuminated a door. Viola was plunged back into darkness for a second as Celia stepped between her and the dim light.

Celia opened the door. Viola could see inside the room that was now revealed. It was a brightly-lit drawing room with two comfortable-looking sofas. It looked inviting after the dark corridor. Celia ushered her in. The room had a huge bay-window through which she could see a forest glade. It made no pretence to be reality – it looked just like a painting. It was a reminder that this was just a dream.

Viola stood in the room for a moment while Celia pulled the door to. Then there was a long pause while the tall blonde woman seemed to be calculating something in her head. Finally, she seemed to have found a solution.

She uttered a word ‘Rwfsh’ very solemnly. Viola’s head cleared. It was like the end of a cold, when the bunged up feeling subsided. The woman stuck out her hand.

‘I’m Celia Franklin’

Viola waited for some nonsense to be added to this, but that was all she said.

‘And I’m Viola of Ortia’.

She took Celia’s hand and shook it experimentally. Their eyes met. Viola was looking for an explanation.

‘We have to be quick’ said Celia

‘What?’ was all that Viola could manage.

‘I made up a dream spell...’ Celia explained

Viola was baffled.

‘How can that work?’

‘I think this is our shared dream, so at some basic level we can control it; this was my way of claiming back the initiative...’

Celia frowned at Viola for a second, nodding her agreement despite the growing confusion that was spreading over the elf’s face.

‘I know that makes little sense! I don’t even know how we can be sharing a dream…’

‘But why can’t you just cast a dream spell that lasts forever’

Celia’s frown got even deeper.

‘Because I know that’s not how witchcraft works – it’s all grand fireworks that blink out rapidly… We don’t do long spells…’

Hope flickered at the edge of Celia’s lips.

‘Are you a mage?’

Viola shook her head. There was brief disappointment in Celia’s clear blue eyes, but then they lit up, quite unexpectedly.

‘You’re Laurence’s friend – Major Viola. You were with him in Melloreis…’

Viola grinned, despite the strangeness of their meeting.

‘And you are John’s friend – he says you have great powers’

Viola saw that the woman was about to deny this fact, but then stopped herself.

‘No time for that now,’ said Celia, ‘we need to work out what’s going on…’

Viola realised that Celia had forgotten that her spell was meant to have run out. She would have to proceed cautiously or they would be plunged into gobbledygook again. She spoke as calmly as she was able.

‘I’m asleep in a wood in northern Paror, just south of Plenum’ she explained, ‘I’m on my way to Kinspit to tell John and Laurence what I discovered in Klethropolis’

‘And I am in Hyperborea in the Far North, escaping from dwarves… I am trying to get back to our headquarters in Eth’

‘You saved me’ said Viola, astonished, ‘you saved me when Bea attacked me’

Celia looked puzzled for a second, but it was clear that she wasn’t the sort to be baffled for too long.

‘Yes… we have shared a dream before. You were in a box and I broke it and then I sent Boo in after you. I had assumed that both of you were dead’

‘Is Boo the little creature with the big ears?’

Celia nodded. A look passed between them that acknowledged their mutual admiration for the tupaia.

‘She’s with me again now…’ said Celia, ‘she’s fine’

‘She absorbed Bea’s spell…’

Celia smiled, ‘as I’d hoped – she’s done that before…’

Viola realised that they were getting distracted.

‘What’s happening here?’ she asked

Celia shrugged, but Viola could see the concentration on her face.  She stood up and murmured ‘adail.’ Her voice dropped to a tremor and she began chanting. They were words that Viola could hear quite clearly, as she could sense almost any volume of sound, but she could not understand them at all. She knew what the language was, however, this was Enchanter’s Rhylic, but mixed in with it were Archaic Elven words. The whole thing was ugly and contorted. She could see the tension of it in Celia’s face; it seemed to develop lines and furrows as if she were suddenly aged a decade or so.  Her eyes had begun closed but now she opened them.

‘You need to listen’ she said, ‘I need you to remember what I say…’

Viola nodded vigorously.

There was an agonising wait for Celia to say anything more. When she did speak it came out in dribs and drabs.

‘There’s a struggle…’ she said, ‘between two groups of dream-shapers – I don’t know who they are…’

Viola wished that she had something to write this all down with, but then realised that even if she had, how could she carry the notes back to the conscious world?

‘There is one dream-shaper stronger than the others, and that being is trying to stop us talking….’

She paused and by now sweat was glistening on her forehead. This seemed so very real to Viola – as if this were the real world and the real world were a phantasm.

‘…The other Shapers want us to meet; we both have a secret that we need to share with each other. But…’

Celia stopped. She sat down on the sofa and raised her hands up to indicate that Viola should not come near. She took a few deep breaths and then carried on chanting. Viola waited.

‘…the secrets are only known to us in our unconscious minds… so the shapers who are helping have modified our dreams to engineer this meeting… because together we may be able to get round the blocking energy… if we give each other what we each lack…’

‘What secrets?’ blurted out Viola.

Celia looked up from the sofa.

‘I have no idea’ she said, ‘but yours is in a book… in a history book…’

Viola wondered what this meant… In what book? One she owned? One she had read? How could anything useful about her be in a history book; all she could possibly be was a footnote.

 ‘And yours?’ Viola asked, hoping that that would help.

Celia chanted again, but this time her voice was louder and harsher. She was struggling, so it seemed to Viola, against the twin foes of the information and, even more so, the spell itself.

‘…it’s something geographical… a map, perhaps?’ she groaned…’but this is so hard’

Viola felt the pain of her struggle keenly. She reached forward to touch her shoulder, but Celia shook her head violently. Rebuffed, all she could do was murmur, ‘you can do this – it’s a very powerful spell…’

Celia shuddered,

‘No, no, I can’t cast spells’ she declared, looking down at her wrist, ‘my magic powers have been…’

There was a short pause while the dream rearranged itself around the fading virtual spell.

‘…a boon to all the rats in Central Shrewborough; now a ginger cat serenades them with his cosmic lute’

Celia’s jaw dropped. Viola’s heart sank. They were back at square one.