The Night Curse (Book one)
Chapter 36 The Dreamwalker

Clemmy clutches my waist as we gallop ahead of Austin and Frederick’s stallions.

After hours of riding, I’ve stopped glancing behind us, searching for anyone following.

Bulbous clouds cover the stars from view, keeping us cloaked in shadow, like the heavens are trying to help us escape.

At the end of the road, Ebony Woods opens up, choking out the little moonlight.

In the dark, the place has a very different feel from when I last visited. The trees loom overhead with gnarled branches that remind me of limbs or teeth, ready to tear us to shreds. It’s so black that we are reduced to a snail’s pace. The breeze is an ice bath on my skin. “I can’t feel my hands.”

“I can’t see,” Clemmy manages through chattering teeth.

“Trust the horses, they will replace a route,” Frederick murmurs.

The moon breaks through the lattice of leaves and pine, revealing a fog that rolls like breath, snaking around our horses’ hooves. The undergrowth cracks with every stride. Something snarls and grunts…too close.

Clemmy leans into the shell of my ear. “You came here on your own?”

“I left before dark. It felt safe in the light.”

“How are we to replace the witch when we can’t see our own hand in front of our face?”

Frederick shushes us. “Listen.”

I strain to hear. Then I catch it. The quiet and distant roar of falling water.

“The waterfall,” Austin says. “This way.”

We follow the sound of running water as it grows louder until the sound is almost deafening and wet droplets shower my flesh.

Frederick dismounts his horse with a dull thump. “We’re close. Let’s go the rest of the way on foot.”

We each follow Frederick’s instruction and secure our horses to nearby tree trunks.

The clouds lessen, lifting the veil of darkness from the land so that I can get my bearings. “The cave is this way.”

As we venture further into the thicket, a familiar clanking pulses in my ears. “There!” I point to the opening of the cave, adorned in flailing ribbons and beads.

Just as I remembered, The Crone emerges from the depths of the dwelling as if risen from the rock itself.

“You bring friends,” she croaks and locks eyes with Clemmy. “And family.”

I step forward, clasping my hands to my chest. “We need your help.”

“Then you better come inside, before you catch a cold.”

Clemmy lets out an audible exhale as if she’s been holding her breath since laying eyes on the witch. “Do you trust her,” she asks.

“What other option do we have?”

All four of us tread into the cave-dwelling. The darkness is fleeting. Candlelight soon envelopes my senses. Everything looks like it had since I’d last been except for the chairs. Instead of two facing opposite one another, separated by a table, there are now five wooden chairs facing a blazing hearth.

“You are a See-er,” Frederick ascertains.

“What is a See-er?” I ask while taking the seat in the middle, directly adjacent to the fire.

“Fortune-teller, Oracle, Clairvoyant, Crystallum Orbis. I have many names.”

“And your real name?” Clemmy asks forcefully.

The witch turns to her with eyes drained of colour. “Your sister likes to think of me as The Crone.” She smirks. “But my name is Liadan.”

“Liadan,” I echo. “What does it mean?”

“Grey lady.” Her smile widens until I can see more gum than teeth. “As if written in the stars.” Laidan lowers herself onto the only remaining chair and loses herself in the dancing flames. “But that’s not what you’ve come to discuss.”

“No,” I start. “I told Harlow what he is, and he awoke his powers. He managed to use them to escape from prison, but now he’s in danger. Can you help us replace him?”

Liadan cranes her neck and the bones within crack like the shell of a chestnut. “The Dreamwalker is in danger, but not the type of danger that you speak of.”

“What do you mean?” Austin mumbles. His expression taut with worry.

“Your son is cursed,” Liadan directs to Frederick. “This you know. Harlow is the descendant of Morpheus, and he has inherited Morpheus’ destiny.”

Liadan readdresses the prophecy in all its details for Austin. He absorbs every word with an open mouth.

“I am not the only one that knows of Harlow’s powers. Dreamwalkers have been waiting a long time for the Saviour of the Oneironautics. See-ers have long foretold of his coming.”

Clemmy shivers despite the burning wood. “Where is he?”

“His body remains on this plane, but his mind has been taken to Erebos, the Land of Eternal Darkness beyond the gates of the Rising Sun. His body is useless without its conscience.”

“By whom?” Austin screams.

“The Liberum Viatorem, a group of Dreamwalker reformists,” Liadan responds.

The witch blows dust onto the fire and the orange flames turn cobalt blue. As the colour subsides, a vision develops. I see Harlow through the flames, locked in a crypt, asleep.

I stand from my chair. “Why have they taken him?”

The witch rubs her three-moon pendant longingly, taking her time. “They wish to use him. To unleash his powers and use them to get back at the humans for the persecution that they have inflicted on your kind.”

“So I will sleep and replace him and rescue him.”

Liadan shakes her fragile head side-to-side. “There is a reason that hasn’t worked so far, girl. Your powers can’t reach Harlow now he is in Erebos.”

“Then what can we do?” Frederick cries.

“Travel to Erebos. There lies the Land of Dreams, past the streams of Oceanus, close to Asphodel Meadows, where the spirits of the dead reside. Destroy the Gate of Ivory, where deceitful dreams are born, and a version of Harlow will awake back in this world.”

I clasp my throat. “What version?”

“Even as a See-er, I cannot foresee. The implications of destroying the gate are unknown to me. It could strip Dreamwalkers of their abilities altogether, or at the very least reduce them significantly. No more could they alter or change a person.”

Austin takes his father’s hand. “But Harlow would be freed?”

Liadan nods.

“How do we reach Erebos?”

A new image emerges in the soaring flames. An archway filled with a swirling mist as violet as my eyes.

“Porta Somnia. The Portal of Dreams.”

Clemmy rises to her feet. “And where do we replace this portal?”

“It will be treacherous,” the witch advises. “You’ll need to work together to survive the crossing.”

I glance around the room, to my sister, and Harlow’s father and brother, taking stock of the lengths they have taken to save him, and I know that I would give my life to save any one of them. “Then we shall work together.”