Callie
Callie watched her mother sleep. Only the lights from the monitors flickered in the darkness. With her hands clasped in front of her, she bowed her head. The woman in the hospital bed was still, the machines doing the body’s work for her. “Mom, I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t know what—”
“Of course, you did,” that old haunting voice raged.
She stiffened. A breeze from nowhere lifted the closed curtains. Pinpricks of light filtered through, the light a vise grip in her head. She sat down in the upholstered chair. The wool scratched her skin. Unable to get comfortable, she moved and contorted into a variety of positions until she gave up and laid by her mother’s side.
Callie laid her hands over her mother’s, surprised to find they were still warm. She felt the life blood flowing through her mother and laid her ear to her mother’s heart. The slow, steady heartbeat of sleep. Just as she began to find comfort in holding her mother close, the soft whirring of the hospital machines grew louder. As they hit their crescendo, they were no longer machines but the deep bellow of church bells that beckoned the dead. Callie tightened her grip on her mother. “She’s not going anywhere. You can’t have her.”
Her words met only shadows, and in the stillness of the hospital room, she was transported back to the nightmare that had created her reality.
****
Voices. Loud, angry voices sounded in her ears and rang through her head. “Dade! Step back, you’re too close,” a woman said.
Colors swirled obscuring Callie’s vision, then shifted to create images. Bodies, fire, death, heat. The air crackled with rage and passion. She was overwhelmed and held fast in her place against the wall.
A man whirled on them.
“I am not too close! I have them in my sights.” Dade spun away from Callie and her mother, toward a shadow that tried to step into the light. He loosed fire in the shadow’s direction and missed.
“You don’t understand. It’s not—.” A young man’s voice, as strong and confident as Dade’s, broke through the chaos. “Dad, stop,” he cried and pulled back the impassioned man, whose hands were aflame.
Fire lit the corner of the room in shadow as the young man wrapped his hands around his father’s and tamped out the flames, “Look!” he commanded. Callie heard a sharp intake of breath. A form slumped, and another seeped back into the embrace of the shadows. “No! Oh god, no.” He fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around the blackened body.
“Sir.” A Dreamscape warrior stepped forward and put a hand on his master’s arm. Dade shook it off.
“Get back,” he said, his voice so low Callie almost didn’t hear him. “If anyone comes near me….” He held the charred body of his wife tighter to his chest and bowed his head over her. The only sound in the room was the sizzle of dying embers. When at last Dade lifted his head, he laid his wife in front of him. He rose, his face a mask of shadow and flame. His dark eyes turned obsidian in the firelight, and he pinned Callie with his gaze.
“You!” He continued to open and close his mouth but no sound came out. Dade shook his head and found his voice. “This would never have happened, if”—his gaze moved from his dead wife to Callie—“if she hadn’t interfered. You are no Dreamscape Priestess.” He sneered. “You’re no more than a child in this world and have no control. Look what you’ve done.” He held up his wife’s body. “Look what you have wrought.”
“I didn’t—” Callie waved her hands and took a few steps back. This wasn’t the way she’d meant for things to go. Her mother’s voice sang in her ear as she stepped forward. Sarah’s mantle was pulled tight around her body, and the sword in her hand weaved its truth in the air.
“She did no such thing. For once in your life, Dade Duncan, take responsibility for your actions.”
Callie jumped, then remembered what she was, and why she was in this dream. “I’ve got this, mom. What are you doing here?”
“Callie, you are not ready for him. Your training is not yet complete.”
“But you said—”
“Yes, child. I know what I said. But no one in half a century has been able to fight this man and survive.” She sighed. “Dade should never have had the ability. It was a gift he couldn’t and cannot bear. There is too much fire in him which for his love and wife, Brigid, was passion. They say love is blind for a reason,” Sarah had added under her breath. Callie had nearly missed it as her mother continued, “For anyone in his way, it’s war. And when passions collide, it’s chaos.” Sarah Alexander looked at the singed body.
“Dade, you didn’t.” Her tone dripped with disappointment as if admonishing a small boy, and he answered in the same manner.
“I—I didn’t mean to. She just—” He dropped his head. “She was standing where she”—he pointed a long accusatory finger at Callie, his face red— “standing where she had been. She moved so fast.”
Callie shook her head, backing away from him. She’d looked at her mother. “Mom, I didn’t move. I don’t know what he’s talking about.”
“I know, Callie. Only Brigid could move so fast. Not quite the speed of light, but her powers were always stronger than his. “Get behind me. Now.”
****
Callie woke in the hospital bed and leaned over to whisper in her mother’s ear. “I wish I’d been stronger. I’m sorry I disappointed you. It’s my fault you’re here.” She pushed back stray strands of hair from her mother’s and gently kissed her her temple. “I’m here,” Callie said as she sat up and stretched. “I don’t know how yet, but I’ll make it right. I’ll figure out how to get you out of … wherever you are.” She thought of how her mom had raced into the nightmare to save not just Callie, but the family of the man who’d threatened to destroy her bloodline. Dade had been too filled with rage, blinded by it. His version of justice had destroyed his family at great cost. No one there would be the same again. That event had changed them, irrevocably.
Penny would be there soon, and Callie didn’t want there to be any chance she would give something away. She couldn’t tell Penny about that darkest night in the dreamscape and what it was leading them to; it would destroy her. Callie leaned once more toward her mother to whisper, “Dade was right. I’m no Priestess.”
She put her head in her hands and waited for the tears to flow. When they didn’t, she thought of The Council. “This is my punishment, isn’t it? My pride and my emotions got me into this mess.” She looked back at her mother. “Okay,” she conceded. “Got her into my mess, but can’t I cry for her?”
“And pity yourself? No, that’s not the way. There is a different path for you, Callie.” Her gaze roved the room, checking its corners for the source of the voice. Shadows darkened the room briefly, making the bright hospital lights that much brighter when they were gone. They were gone from her sight, but not her mind.
Even the echoes of shadows haunted her.
“Callie?” Penny said. It sounded like she was at the far end of a tunnel.
“Dade. Fire. Danger. Death. Dùsgadh. Dreamscape. Priestess. Mom. Lu—.”
“Callie, wake up. You’re not making any sense. Come out of it, girl.”
Callie heard Penny calling to her, but was awake. Wasn’t she? The air around her was thick, and she moved as if walking in sand. Heavy, long footsteps that would wear her down. She felt someone shaking her with force.
“Come out of the dreamscape, Callie. It’s not safe for you. You’re getting sucked in or something.”
“In between is death. Stuck. Can’t move. Footsteps and shadows. Gotta hide.”
Callie felt Penny rocking her like a baby or a young child. “Hey,” Penny said. “Maybe you should go home. Get some rest. I’ll call Annie and ask her to make you her special tea.” Callie shook her head. Penny smiled. “Would you like that? Some nice hot tea and to see Annie?”
Callie nodded, then shook her head violently, and said, “No Annie. No tea. Must remember. Never forget.”
“Did you have that dream again?”
“Not dream. Nightmare. Don’t want to sleep. Ever. Too dangerous.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Sleep is good for you.”
“No.” Callie pouted. “Remind me sometime to tell you.” She clapped a hand over her mouth and shook her head.
“Relax. You don’t have to tell me anything.”
“He killed her, you know,” Callie said. “In the battle. I was there.”
“What are you talking about?” Penny turned toward Sarah.
“Not her. The other one.”
“The other one? You’ve lost me.”
“It was my fault. All my fault. Shadow’s fault…”
“Hey, I know you’re having a rough go of it, Callie. But it’s not your fault the doctors don’t know what’s wrong with her.”
“You don’t get it. Dreamscape. Death. My fault,” Callie said. “And his,” she added softly so Penny wouldn’t hear her. But maybe, just maybe, the shadows that followed her would hear, and lead her to the one who commanded them.
©Lisa Rogers. This story has been written from my head by my hand for more years than I care to count. Completed December 2024. All Rights Reserved.
Welcome, new readers and subscribers! If you’re just catching up, I’ve posted the links to the first nine chapters below.
Chapter 1 - The Silver Feather
Chapter 2 - Lucien’s Visit
Chapter 3 - Callie
Chapter 4 - Oscar
Chapter 5 - Shades of Crimson and White
Chapter 6 - Dreamweaver Training Begins
Chapter 7 - The Mark of Callie
Chapter 8 - Dreams for Sale.
Chapter 9 - Dragons and Dreams
Chapter 10 - What the Warriors Knew
I have gone back-and-forth ad nauseum about whether or not to serialize this book and have decided to rip off the Band-Aid(tm) or plaster, if you prefer.
Disclaimer: it’s not going to be perfect, but it has been story coached, developmental, and line-edited, any typos or similar issues are mine and mine alone.
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