Silver Blood (Series of Blood Book 1) by Emma Hamm (bill gates book recommendations .TXT) 📕

disgust. He was growing so weak from the lack of food and water that he was forced to linger close to his physical form. No one was going to be found this close to him. The punishment wasn’t helping anyone, but it was an adequate torture for the Dream Walker.

The smoke like form that was Jiminy shuddered for a moment before moving forward once more. A few more dreams and he would be able to call it quits. There was no one like Wren in the dreaming world that he had found in these long days.

A bubble that pulsed with power made him pause as the ripples brushed against his conscious. It wasn’t often that people dreamed so vividly. Most dreams were either entirely black and white or only had small pops of color. The human mind was filing bits of information to remember. The mind didn’t create during the dreaming state. Yet this dream was so vivid that splashes of its colors were leaping into other dreams.

That was odd.

Funneling himself into the dream, he shifted into the form of a bird for a few moments to gain his bearings. There wasn’t much in this dream. Sparse grass covered the ground that seemed dry and barren. Tiny pricks of light danced among the glowing leaves. Fireflies, he imagined, lit up the grooves and shadows. Dead leaves drifted by him as a hot wind stirred them into movement. Though the colors from this dream had splashed towards other dreams, there were very little colors to see here.

In fact, the only color he could see was a faint tinge of red that laced everything around him. Like glowing veins, the color threaded from the ground, the dead trees, even the leaves. Everything seemed to point towards the edge of a cliff that was hung over the amber glow of a city.

Then he saw her.

She was such an odd creature among all of this ruined land. Light purple hair swirled at the top of her head like wispy strands of cotton candy. Frayed jean shorts revealed long, pale legs that were covered by ripped black tights. A leather jacket was shrugged halfway down her shoulders. The moonlight glinted off the studs that were imbedded in it.

Even in dreams, she made an effort to look different. But to him, she was beautiful. A foolish, beautiful creature sitting at the edge of a cliff with her legs dangling off of it.

Jiminy shifted from bird to man in the blink of an eye. The breeze made the hairs on his arms stand up even though it was not cold. This place had a darkness to it that he did not like. Yet it appeared to be entirely harmless. He wondered what had brought her to this place.

Her eyes were closed when he moved closer to her. She was rocking slightly forward and back. She was kicking her feet, he realized. He could see her black shitkickers raising in opposite rhythm to each other.

“Wren.”

She didn’t seem to hear him.

“Wren.” He tried again.

She heard it that time. He had startled her so much that she nearly jumped off the edge of the cliff. Only his panicked lurch forward managed to stop her as his hand latched onto her shoulder. Wide eyes stared at him as she tried to catch her breath.

“Jiminy?” she murmured.

“Yeah, what are you doing here?”

“How did you get here?”

“What do you mean?” He was confused. She wasn’t looking directly at him or at least the way that she should. Instead, she seemed to be looking through him. The same way any dreamer would.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter.” She smiled at him, and he was nearly blinded by the joy in her gaze. “Did you not notice them?”

“Them?”

Wren raised a hand to point over his shoulder. He turned to see the glowing lights of fireflies and nothing more. He sighed in relief. For a moment, he had thought he was going to turn around to see that there was someone else in her dream.

“The fireflies?”

“Not fireflies,” she whispered as one danced towards them. Her hands raised to cup the tiny light inside of it. The cracks between her fingers glowed yellow and red. “Memories.”

“Yours?”

“Of course not.” A few more of the lights danced towards her. Up and down they bobbed, landing on her hair and shoulders.

“You look like a fairy.” He smiled as the soft words crossed his lips.

“Used to be one,” she whispered. “Or one of them did.”

“Wren.” He leaned forward to brush off one of the lights. “You know this is a dream.”

“It can’t be,” she whispered. “I would know if this were a dream.”

Her response made little sense to him. She had always controlled her dreams with ease. Or she had when he had first met her. Perhaps she was too startled to recognize the dream that had been her own making. He didn’t understand why E wasn’t stepping in.

“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t a dream,” he said.

“You might be.” Her hand opened to allow the light freedom. It was caught on the wind and pushed towards his face. He stepped backwards, but it continued to hover just before him. Inside its depths, he could see another dream.

This was weird even for Jiminy.

He had never been a fan of heights, and they were easily hundreds of feet off of the ground. His stomach lurched as he took a deep breath and settled down onto the edge with her. His feet hanging over the edge was enough to send his nerves spiraling.

Thankfully this wasn’t his own dream. This would have been a nightmare for him.

“I usually know when I’m in a dream,” Wren muttered.

“Yes, you usually do.”

Her big grey eyes stared at him for a few moments before she let out a long breath. Her feet stopped moving as she realized that this was, indeed, a dream. She was so easy to read for him. Her thoughts played across her face like an open book.

“Okay. So this is a dream.” She frowned