Dreamworms Book 1: The Advent of Dreamtech by Isaac Petrov (drm ebook reader TXT) 📕

Ximena feels Edda’s thoughts gathering in harmony, like a crashed glass coming together in reverse motion. She stops dead in her tracks and turns slowly to face Rew. “Fuck,” she says, and grins apologetically. “I slipped.”

“That was… less than impressive, Redeemed van Dolah. My attack was the lightest I am able to muster.”

“Sorry,” she says. “You caught me by surprise.” She walks to her bed and takes the blanket in her hands, feeling the doughy texture of the cloth. Grounding herself.

“Do engage your dream senses with more discipline. Deploy your will if you must. We do only have two practice sessions before the trial.”

“Oh,” Edda says, and Ximena feels the chill creeping up Edda’s spine. “Not much, yeah?”

“Not indeed. Furthermore, Overseer Yog did insist in personally designing the arena for the second trial. Be assured she will not be as… lenient as I am.”

“Oh,” Edda says. She wets her lips. “Fuck.”

Seventeen

Plants and Ashes

“The trial of the second step is about to begin,” Professor Miyagi says, gesturing at the dreamsenso scene floating across the auditorium. It is the empty, black-skied landscape of the staging permascape, where the twenty-four human apprentices have gathered in scattered groups. “For those of you unacquainted with the history of the Three Trials of Worth and Soul, watch carefully, because today’s session doesn’t end quite like Edda expected.”

The dreamsenso camera zooms in slowly towards what seems like an arbitrary part of the flat landscape, where a group of people dressed in their usual tunics and gowns stand around an instructor, avidly extracting the last drops of wisdom before the second trial. The same is happening within the other groups not far away. The difference with this particular group, Ximena realizes when details become apparent, is that the instructor is human. Oh, there is a mare as well, of course, but she stands aside, and watches the interaction with usual mare impassiveness.

“Now, pinch your noses, and shut your mouths, like this.” Edda blocks her mouth and nose with a hand, and then, seemingly impossibly, takes a deep breath—Ximena can feel Edda’s lungs filling with the dry air of the permascape. Edda removes the hand and laughs. “Try it!”

Aline exchanges an amused glance with Pieter, and both repeat Edda’s feat. Janson—Pieter’s younger brother—stares at them and, with visible hesitation, imitates them.

“I can breathe!” Aline laughs, hand still covering her mouth.

“And speak!” Pieter says. “Pure evil.” He grins. “These damn dreams are so real, they can’t shut you up, love.”

Aline laughs and slaps his broad chest.

Janson is drawing slow, controlled breaths behind his own hand. He is unusually large for a fourteen-year-old, almost as much as his sixteen-year-old brother. Now that Ximena sees them side by side, she is struck by how many similarities they share. Yes, he has brown hair, where Pieter’s is lighter. Janson’s eyes are green, Pieter’s blue. But other than that… Same muscular body frame, same protruding jaws. They must be genetically related! Ximena realizes. Such an unusual family. First, two siblings of the same gender. And now this!

Janson turns to Edda, wide-eyed at his capacity to breathe behind a hand. “How did you discover this… magic?”

“Ah,” she changes her weight to the other foot. “I was with Elder Rew, you know, in one of her lessons, like yours with Elder Qoh.” She gestures at the watching mare next to them. “At one point we were under water, and I could breathe. So then when back on land, I experimented, and…” She shrugs.

“Yours is a family of teachers, dowry sister,” Gotthard says. He just walked in. His group is nearby, training with their mare. “But you have the heart of a scientist.”

“Nobody is perfect,” Edda says, grinning at him. She gestures at Gotthard’s group. “You bored already of the alien’s teaching and looking for something more… stimulating? Oh,” she turns to Qoh. “Sorry, didn’t mean to—”

“We are marai, Redeemed van Dolah,” Qoh says. “Not aliens.”

“Sorry.” Edda smiles. “We appreciate your support, Elder Qoh. And that you allowed me to join you when Elder Rew went to,” she waves a hand in the air, “whatever.”

“To complete the preparations for the second trial,” Qoh says.

“Right.” She claps loudly. “Come on, mensas. Who’s next? Oh, hello.” Edda smiles and stretches out a hand at an older man, already in his early twenties, who has just approached the group. “I’m Redeemed Edda van Dolah, a Juf in Lunteren. And you are?”

The man, short and stocky—and quite ugly, Ximena thinks—shakes Edda’s hand without the shade of a smile. “Elder Luuk Smook. A humble farmer in Oosterbeek. Hope you don’t mind me looking at how you specialists prepare for the trial.” His voice is deep and coarse.

“We’re not specialists,” Pieter says, throwing a finger at his brother. “Much better. We’re fishermen!” He laughs, like it was a joke.

“You sure are, Ledeboer,” Gotthard says with a smug smile. “Your smell gives it away—even in dreams.”

“Shut up, Gotthard,” Edda says, and then smiles widely at the stocky man. “You’re welcome to stay, Elder Smook. You made number two in the first trial, yeah?”

“Yes.” His eyes pierce Edda’s. “And you, number one.” He says it like it is not praise, but sin.

Edda shrugs and laughs modestly. “Lucky, I guess.”

Luuk Smook doesn’t reply. He just stares at her in silence, like an iceberg at a passing ship.

Edda clears her throat. “All right, let’s…” she turns towards her friends. “Who was…? Ah, Piet. Come.” She takes Pieter’s muscular arm and pulls him away from the rest, onto an empty spot. “And you, Elder Qoh,” Edda walks to where the mare is standing, puts her hands on her white, leathery skin, and pushes firmly, “over here, please.” With Edda leaning on Qoh, her elongated body slides until Edda stops her right in front of Pieter. “There. Now, Elder Qoh, please attack.”

“With which intensity this time, Redeemed van Dolah?”

“Medium, Goah’s Mercy! Please stop asking. If I say nothing, it’s always medium intensity, yeah?”

“Acknowledged.” Qoh raises an arm at Pieter, who