The Sandman (10 page)

Viv sighed. Seemed as if she’d had enough of the interviews and deals, too. “I don’t know. He felt honest. Do you think there’s a problem?”

Maisie stood. Guy felt honest? Lots of people could figure out how to feel honest while being sketchy, though.

Jordan, send someone?
Maybe she’d connected with Rook or Sera in the waking world, and they had told her what was going on here. Maybe she hadn’t come herself because she was off with Sera rescuing Steve?

No. Even the most likely scenario didn’t play right. Jordan would
never
.

“Yeah, there’s a problem,” Maisie said. A bunch of problems, but number one was that she was scared, her heart in a clutch of worry, and the new guy would feel it in the waters. Much better to be pissed than afraid.

She took a deep breath. Centered herself. Lit a spark. “Dude comes to
my city
using
my sister’s
name?”

“Presumptuous, I agree.” Viv had gone iceberg cold.

“He could’ve done something to her.” The spark ignited something deeper.

“I pray not, but it’s a possibility.”

“I think I should introduce him to some nightmares.”

“It may be necessary. Shall I bring him inside?”

Oh, Jordan, what does this mean?

“No,” Maisie instructed. “I’ll come outside. More room to play.”

Maisie stepped around the table and chairs and approached Viv. “Thanks for everything, by the way. I can see why Rook trusts you.”

Viv smiled and inclined her head.

“You’re a fuckin’ dragon in pearls.” Maisie reached past her and opened the door.

The street outside was quiet, the sky silver with refracted light. Vince and Mirren had gone off to play with David for a while. They wanted to wake soon, too, and were glad to see this wrapping up. Eleanor had remained behind, as well, and she was chatting with the new guy, who’d come shirtless, like,
Behold my rippled muscles
. What a prick.

They noticed her walking toward them, and both turned, Eleanor with a beaming smile. “This is Noah,” she said, taking and squeezing Maisie’s arm with her excitement. “He says he’s seen Jordan, and she’s fine.”

A giddy chill was settling in Maisie’s chest, loosening her tension and cooling her anger. She felt herself smiling, genuinely smiling, which she only did on very special occasions. This was wrong wrong wrong. This guy was doing something to her.

“I’ve been so excited to meet you,” Noah said, extending his hand.

Nightmare eyes.
Just peachy.

As she reached back—couldn’t seem to help herself—she turned to Eleanor. Awesome lady, all mom, and Maisie really missed her mom. If she could save her, she would. “Wake up, right now.”

Eleanor’s happy expression fell, and she glanced longingly at Noah. “Oh, but I’d like to—”

“We hit it off,” Noah explained. “Her son works in the Agora, and I love the Agora.”

“Wake. Right. Fucking
.
Now!
” Maisie said, then turned to Viv, who, unlike Eleanor, didn’t have Vince’s Tandem Tech, a direct connection to the waking world. Viv was stuck until Mirren could take her across the Scrape. “I’m so sorry.”

Viv’s gimlet eyes belied the smile stretching her mouth. “Handsome devil, aren’t you?” Emphasis on
devil
. Made Maisie think she was resisting him, too. Good.

What had happened to Jordan?

“And you are?” Noah let go of Maisie and reached for Viv.

Jordan would’ve fought him.

As Viv answered Noah, Maisie turned back to Eleanor. Tried again. Begged. “If you love Harlen, you will wake right now. No more questions. He
needs
you.”

Eleanor looked at her like she’d said something unkind, but then shrugged and smiled apologetically at Noah. “Another time.” She wavered in the water, as if her body was dispersing, and then she disappeared.

So his voodoo wasn’t absolute. Or had he
let
Eleanor go?

Viv couldn’t seem to stop yammering about what they were all doing here.

“The black market fell?” Noah said to Viv, his eyebrows coming together. “That must’ve been very frightening.”

Before Viv could answer, his brow furrowed, as if thinking hard. “But you had a protector. Rook, is it?”

Maisie felt a flare of anger leap beyond her false calm. Viv would never give up Rook. This guy was a mind reader. And mind reading was a shitty thing to do, with the possible exception of sweethearts having sex. Then it could be damn handy. He’d probably picked Maze City out of Jordan’s head, just like he’d picked Rook out of Viv’s, and for that alone, he was going to pay.

Maisie clenched her left hand to break the street where Noah stood but nothing happened. She glanced at the building to her right—a modern, glassy apartment building for snobs (the inside was cramped and old)—and tried again, but the glass would not burst.

Please don’t do that
, he said. In her head.
I like the city as it is.

A bad hybrid. Lambert had been bad, and now he was as good as dead. No reason Noah couldn’t join him.

Ah but Lambert was an idealist. I’m a selfist.

And she’d had Steve when Lambert had tried to take her city. No Steve here today.

Steve, huh?

Crap. She should wake. Get away from Noah. Get him out of her head and strand him in the Scrape at the same time. But that would dump Viv and the few others remaining behind, too.

Since Steve’s not here, how about you introduce me to…Mirren? Lambert’s daughter?

Mirren might be able to squash this asswipe. Might.

I’ll find her anyway.

Not in Maisie’s dreamscape.

So I walk this way
—he pointed down the street, looking pleasantly confused—
to go that way? Very clever, but I think I’ve got it. Nothing as it seems.

Maisie went still hotter, as if her veins were filled with lava. But she couldn’t fight him. Couldn’t fight at all. He was controlling her, which is why he was so confident.

She’d never been a good fighter, anyway.

No, don’t fight me. Waste of energy. And you’ll need your energy.

But she could build. Block him off.

I’d like to see that, actually.

Street first, so she’d have space to work. The pavement moved like a crackling conveyor belt, shifting Viv away as the road beneath her extended into a flowing black river, its currents at Maisie’s command. She and Noah remained in the same place. She made sure of it.

That’s just so cool
, Noah said.
I’ve never met anyone like you.

Maisie folded back a city block as if it were hinged onto the next, doubling the maze therein. The crash of its new connection shook her to the bone. On the widened street, from deep within the rumbling foundations, she shot iron spines, around which she poured concrete—ugly, spare, stark. She poured until a wall grew, extending the breadth of her city—she could see it in her mind—and on the gray wall, in vivid color, she scrawled graffiti in angry, obscene phrases, all of them warnings.

Building felt good. Building made her strong, and it gave her strength, too. For all her many hang-ups, this talent was true and pure, honed by her isolation and heartache for everything she got wrong in the waking world. In the world Darkside, she could build anything. She could create.

Whoa
, said Noah, head back, his gaze slowly lifting with the rise of the wall behind her.
Girl, you have a gift.
He didn’t seem scared.
When I saw this place in your sister’s mind, I thought she’d exaggerated it out of love for you. But, no, it’s…awesome. What you can do is mind-boggling. And I’ve been looking so long for a place to stay. My fans would
love
this.

“Fuck you.” She wasn’t about to speak to him telepathically. He’d get
nothing
from her.

The iron spines speared from the top of the wall, black with meanness, rough with Maisie’s haste. She split her city—one half free, the other contending with this foreign control. The wall separated her and Noah from Viv, Mirren, Vince, and the kid, David, too. Some of the leftover revelers from the black market—the last group before everyone would wake—were split between east and west. A blockade. War.

But I still have the architect
, he said, bemused at her effort.
The one who matters.

“You
have
to keep me alive, though. And my friends are safe—you can’t get through that wall.” But Mirren could. Scrape sand loved Mirren. When she was ready, when the rest of them had hatched a plan, they’d nail this SOB.

I came as a friend.

Maisie was still smiling at him, but now she put her heart into it so that her smile was a feral baring of teeth. “Bullshit.”

We will be friends. You’ll beg me for it.

“You don’t know me.”

I know your dream, and that’s just about as deep inside you as a man can be.

She shivered. Because
eww
.

I’ll make you bring down your wall.

“No one can make me do anything. And better people have tried.”

The corners of his eyes wrinkled with his smile.
I can make you run.

And with those words, the color of her anger changed, and anxiety, a weak, cowardly yellow, fluttered into the red flames.

Something was behind her. Something bad, though she didn’t dare turn her head to look.
The old pursuit dream. So unoriginal.

She’d stand her ground, brave whatever he had in store.

Except the anxiety was crawling up her throat and squeezing her lungs. She had to run. Couldn’t help it. Run or wake, and the latter wasn’t an option. Her tenuous control slipped out of her grasp, and she lurched into a sprint.

She wanted to stop. Wanted to turn around. She wasn’t scared of nightmares, not when Steve was a half-breed.

Steve’s like me? You
are
full of surprises.

She pelted down the street, heart pounding, breath coming fast. Where to go? She couldn’t think. The terror was too real. Glancing over her shoulder, Noah followed at a leisurely stroll.

“And a great flood covered the Earth!” His voice echoed off the buildings. “And all the wicked fell not into death, but into the dark waters of sleep.”

Stairs. Third door on the right. Leap through the window. Run!

“Thank you, Maisie,” he said behind her. “Thank you for building this city. I needed an ark.”

***

Jordan paced the length of her cell. Six steps. Somewhere between the beach house and the Chimera detention center, she’d lost her hair elastic and now the strands kept hanging in her eyes, driving her crazy. Her head pounded with a stress migraine.

She halted to gnaw on her thumbnail. Sera had lost an awful lot of blood. The memory was enough to bring the rich, tangy smell back. So much blood. It was a mercy—a small one—that the senator had let Gary go with Sera to the hospital. At least Sera wasn’t alone.

The outer door to the observation post swung open, and the senator strode inside. She’d removed the suit jacket that matched her skirt, and even though she’d rolled up the sleeves of her silk blouse, red spots were still clearly visible.

“The warrant for your memory has been issued,” the senator said.

Jordan folded her arms and set her jaw.

“If you fight it, you’re more likely to damage yourself.”

She hoped she
could
damage herself, and thereby make a garble of anything they retrieved. Coming to terms with it had been surprisingly easy. She loved her sister.

“You said you’d cooperate.” As if the senator needed to remind her.

Jordan closed her eyes and took a deep breath. There was one thing she could do before her memory was compromised. “The lead singer of the band Revel—”

“Yes, yes,” the senator cut in, irritated. “We’ve heard all that.”

“Well, have you done anything? The Agora is in danger. Your fixation on your dead daughter is going to get a lot of people killed.”

“Listen, young lady. I understand better than you what kind of danger the Agora is in.”

“Noah—”

“The Revelations concert is over. Pending an investigation, Chimera has put a hold on Noah and his bandmates should they attempt to return to the Agora.”

Jordan’s relief unlocked most of her bound muscles. “Thank you.”

“I don’t need your thanks. I have always fought for the safety of revelers Darkside. What I need from you is information, specifically the waking world location of Vincent Blackman and Mirren Lambert.”

“I can’t give you that.”

“Then I’ll have to take it from you,” she said.

Senator Fleight stepped back and motioned to someone through the small, square window at the top of the door to the observation post. Uniformed Chimera officers entered. One lifted a tablet and he read, “Jordan Elizabeth Lane, a warrant has been issued for the retrieval of your memory regarding Vincent Blackman and Mirren Lambert, as it pertains to the death of Agatha Fleight on the sixteenth of April and their current whereabouts for the goal of capture. The memory is to be extracted by Chimera agents according to the processes set out in Section 10.3.5 of the International Pact on Shared Dreaming. Every effort will be made by Chimera to assure the soundness of your memory during the procedure. Resisting increases the chances for memory disruption, brain damage, and even death. Do you understand?”

“Sounds like fun,” Jordan said. Her throat had gone dry, her voice a little froggy, but she was resolute.
Maisie.
Jordan liked to think she’d do the same for Vince and Mirren. Hoped she would.

The Chimera officers each took her by an arm. Her heart raced. She just couldn’t help it.

The senator frowned at Jordan. Regret maybe? “It doesn’t have to be like this. Blackman and Lambert are criminals.”

“So was Agatha.”

Senator Fleight’s mouth pinched, and she turned and strode out ahead of the officers, who propelled Jordan in their boss’s wake. They proceeded down a long white hallway, making two turns. An oversized door, like the kind leading to a surgery suite, opened to the punch of a large square button. Again, like in a hospital.