Dreamer (The Dream World Chronicles Book 1) by Camille Peters (thriller books to read .txt) 📕

“This fruit creates a unique illusion with each bite,” she told the enthralled spectators as she plucked one. “Would someone like to try?”

I ducked down a row of newly created crossbreeds: a bamboo and cattail mixture, an ivy and holly hybrid that grew acorns, and pinecones bursting from honeysuckle wreaths that tinkled like wind chimes. One shelf was devoted to plants exclusive to the dream festival—such as popcorn flowers and fluffy cotton candy bushes—while another displayed unique hybrids that had been grown in the Cultivating Fields, too unusual to use in dreams: sweet-tasting rain, the tickle of purple, and the smell of discovery.

The Dreamer supervising the display fiddled with the butterflies in her hair. “Incredible, aren’t they? Some Cultivators are trying to petition for their use in dreams, but the Council is convinced using untested details not found in the Mortal world could cause havoc.”

Stardust interrupted with a tug at my sleeve. “Look over there.”

Blaze and Trinity huddled in a corner with three other Nightmares, whispering.

“What do you think they’re up to?” I murmured.

Stardust had already changed into a spyglass, which she used to study them suspiciously. “It’s hard to tell.”

“Can you get a closer look?”

“I’m on it.” Stardust morphed into a ladybug and fluttered over to investigate. I hovered beside a berry tree and pretended to be admiring it as I watched through its floral petal leaves.

“No luck,” Stardust suddenly murmured from somewhere beside me. I searched for her before finding her ladybug form resting lazily on a dancing plant.

I leaned closer. “You didn’t find out anything?”

The ladybug Stardust flittered off the plant and morphed back into her usual chubby form, nearly knocking over the row of pots and causing a nearby Cultivator to glower.

“Nothing,” Stardust said. “They were only arranging a time they could meet before the flying colors show, and then Blaze slipped something to the Nightmare oozing mold, but they pocketed it before I could see what it was. I tried to sneak inside his pocket, but it was too tight of a squeeze.” Her eyes widened. “They’re leaving. Quick, let’s follow them.”

My heart pounded in trepidation. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. I wouldn’t want them to catch me.”

But Stardust was already darting through the crowds towards the door and I was forced to follow. The Nightmares were immediately swallowed up by the swarming crowd, but I should have known Stardust was too determined to allow her suspects to slip away so easily. She scanned the throng carefully before darting forward. I did my best to keep up with her rapid movements, but she was quickly lost in the crowd.

I paused with a sigh as I awaited my cloud’s return. I hadn’t been waiting long when I suddenly felt the familiar lure midst the crowds that always accompanied Darius’s presence. I stiffened and frantically searched for him before spotting him several yards away, browsing the clump of nearby stalls.

A rush of warmth filled me at seeing him…followed by the icy reminder of what he’d done. I both yearned to confront him and wanted nothing more than to hide before he spotted me. Fear won, urging me to slip into the apothecary. I peered through the slit in the curtains to watch Darius, who was staring at the door with a look like he meant to follow. I tensed. Had he seen me?

He frowned for a moment before giving his head a little shake and returning his attention to the souvenirs. I released a whooshing breath, but even my acute relief wasn’t strong enough to completely mask the disappointment I felt at not having a chance to speak to Darius. How could I experience both at once?

I remained in the apothecary, both to wait until Darius had left and for Stardust to find me. Unlike Mortal herb shops that were damp and dusky, the apothecary was flooded with dancing sunlight. Scents tickled my nose, pungent and sweet. Herbs hung drying in the windowsill, lucky shamrocks grew from pots lining the floor, and in the corner a Dreamer ground a blue and tangy powder with a mortar and pestle.

After rummaging through bowls of gemstones and miniature moon rocks, I explored the brews used for magical healing and the array of bottled senses, lingering at the sounds—the roar of a dragon, music box tunes from centuries past, lullabies in extinct languages, and the beat of pixie wings. It was midst these explorations that Stardust finally found me.

“There you are,” she said grumpily. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Why did you feel the need to hide from me?”

“I spotted Darius.”

Her bad mood immediately vanished as she accepted this reason readily, as I knew she would. “Those other slippery Nightmares got away from me, which means I’ve lost my chance to investigate what they’re up to.”

“Perhaps you’ll find another opportunity before the festival ends.” But I hoped she wouldn’t; I didn’t think I could bear another encounter with either Blaze or Trinity, and especially not Darius.

The memory of his betrayal tainted the enchantment of the remainder of the festival, no matter which wonders we visited. I felt as if a dark cloud followed me as we explored an art show highlighting the past year’s greatest sunrises and sunsets and wandered to the Weaving Museum, made up of marble columns carved with patterns of constellations. I didn’t linger there long, not with the huge displays of prize-winning dream blueprints, weaving threads I could never afford, and newly invented weaving stitches beyond any skill level I could ever hope to achieve.

Being surrounded by such weaving excellence served as a smothering reminder of my own mediocrity, and for a brief moment I felt nothing but hatred for the craft. Was Trinity right? Did the answer to my potential lay not in weaving, but in my ability to see—and possibly explore—dreams?

I hurried into the lobby to escape these tempting thoughts. Near the exit hung midnight-blue curtains stretching from marble floor to ceiling, where constellations were embroidered