The Boy In Her Dreams by Laekan Zea Kemp

Author:Laekan Zea Kemp [Kemp, Laekan Zea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Laekan Zea Kemp

* * *

We stood in the Seilbahn tunnel waiting for the last cable car before they closed for the evening. Roman hadn’t even let go of my hand as he’d fumbled for his wallet to pay for the tickets. He knelt down and stepped into the tiny car before leading me in next to him. Then they closed the door and we started to rise toward the opening that faced a fancy hotel. The night lights rippled against the empty pool, people out on their balconies and staring up at us.

For a long time we both just faced the window, the quiet filling the space until it was hard and pressed against us. As if that small walk from the park to the tunnel had snuffed out whatever dreams we’d conjured there. I knew what we were both thinking, that it was time to face more than just our scars. It was time to face the truth about what was happening to both of us.

As soon as Roman inhaled I braced myself for what was next. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

All I could do was nod.

“When I saw the shadow at the scene of the accident…it looked like…like—”

“What?”

He grew still. “Me. Its face…” He clenched his jaw. “And then I felt it inside me, this wild dead thing. I could feel it trying to rip me apart from the inside but then something in me fought back.”

“Wait, it attacked you? And you fought it?”

“I don’t know how. I don’t even really know what happened. The shadow was somehow inside me and then I just felt this rage like a fire had been lit beneath my skin. Then it was gone.”

I thought of Vogle’s hands, the fire inside him that had resolved the shadow to dust. He’d destroyed it, and somehow in the dream-state Roman had destroyed one too. I examined his hands again, his eyes, my own roaming over his skin. But the flesh was dark.

And then I remembered the two of us sitting in front of that campfire in my memories. Roman had asked me what it felt like to be sick and I’d told him that it felt like drowning. Something permanent had been forged between us that night, something powerful, and the proof had been in his touch, his skin alive and glowing like the flames in front of us. I waited for that spark to ignite again, wondering if my closeness had somehow drawn it out, if it could again. But his body stayed silent.

Roman reached for me again. “I thought I was protecting you, Bryn. I thought it was the only one.”

My throat was tight as I forced out the words. “It’s not.”

“I know.” His eyes narrowed as he stared at something in the distance. “I don’t know why but lately when I fall asleep I find myself back at the farmhouse. I look for you but you’re never there.”

He told me about the owl and the swarm and our names carved into the trunk of one of the trees.

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