Choking back tears was never easy. I did the best I could as I rummaged through drawers and filing cabinets, looking for any other clues to the whereabouts of my godson.
Nothing.
It all looked so frustratingly normal.
I dropped to the floor and leaned against one of the too-sterile walls. Kull stood at the desk, leafing through a stack of papers.
“It’s useless,” I said.
“A warrior never admits defeat.”
“Guess you haven’t noticed that I’m no warrior.”
He raised one of his bleach-blond eyebrows. “You are, Olive. You’ve only got to realize it.”
I pressed a hand to my forehead. So much time lost. Every time we got close to finding Jeremiah, we took three steps back. And now it wasn’t just my godson or Geth’s children, but other children from Earth as well. How many children had they taken?
Kull gave up the search and collapsed beside me. “Nothing,” he said. “Whoever they are, they cover their tracks well.”
I racked my brain, trying to come up with a way to make sense of my situation.
“The dream catcher,” I finally said. “It’s the only clue we have left. I’ll cast the spell in the morning, and then we find the Dreamthief.”
“Are you sure it will work?”
I wasn’t. “Dark magic is dangerous, to put it lightly. It’s unpredictable. And I don’t know much about it. But if I find out who created the dream catcher, we’ll be one step closer to finding Jeremiah’s captors.”
“And when do we go after the dragon’s skeleton?”
I eyed him. Really? After all this?
“Kull—”
“You made a promise.”
“I know.”
“You must keep your half of the bargain, no matter how unpleasant. This is the Wults’ way.”
Should I remind him that I wasn’t a Wult? Would he care?
“This isn’t a matter of keeping a bargain. It’s a matter of life and death. If I use my time stealing that skeleton, my godson could die.”
He locked his jaw and didn’t answer, as if thinking up a rebuttal. I knew Kull. He’d never let it go. Honor meant more to him than life.
He rubbed his cheek. Dark blood pooled from a scratch and dripped down his neck.
“I can heal you if you’d like.”
He shrugged. “It is of little consequence.”
I pulled out a napkin and wiped his cheek. Blisters surrounded the shallow gash. “You’ll scar.”
“It will match the rest.”
I wiped off the blood as best as I could. The ticking of a clock filled the silence. I thought of Jeremiah. He would die unless I convinced Kull to give up this stupid mission. But how could I convince him?
“You care very much about your godson.”
I nodded.
“How can this be? He is not your own flesh and blood.”
“He doesn’t have to be.”
I’d spent years training people to deal with loss, yet when the time came, I couldn’t take my own advice. I couldn’t let go. I couldn’t let him die.
“Then I will relent,” Kull said quietly. “My dinosaur trophy can wait.”
I was speechless. He’d really just give it up?
“Life rarely takes the path we wish. I understand.”
He caught my hand as I dabbed the sticky blood off his neck. I didn’t push him away. After all I’d been through—all we’d been through—I needed some comfort.
His piercing blue eyes caught me off guard. My heart did its usual flip-flop, and my skin flushed with heat. Twelve-year-old girl—that was me. I couldn’t handle a crush. I needed to grow up.
Kull was not my boyfriend. He was a friend. And would never be anything else.
I stood before Kull could notice my reddening cheeks.
We walked out of the office. Defeat seemed to follow us like a palpable entity. But I refused to let it weigh me down. That was a road I’d traveled too many times.
I would find my godson.
The city had darkened while we’d been in the office. Sunlight no longer illuminated the stained-glass windows. Lit by city lights, the colored glass now shone with a dim luster.
I stopped in front of the window. A thought struck me.
Although the sun had set, light remained.
Even in darkness, there was light, and there was hope.
The simple reassurance calmed my frantic thoughts.
I let the realization buoy me up as we left the chapel.
Hold on, Jeremiah. We’re almost there.
I trudged up to my apartment and unlocked the door. I’d left Kull at the Ramada. He’d been okay with it. It had been a long day, and although I would deny it if he asked, he knew how I felt about him. Best if we stayed apart.
My phone rang, and I pulled it out of my pocket before opening the door. “Hello?”
“Hello, Olive.” It was Dr. Hill. The universe was granting small favors.
“Dr. Hill? I’ve been trying to reach you—”
“Olive, listen,” he cut me off. “I don’t have much time. I’m in Boston. I’ve been doing some research on my patients—specifically, on the children with the comatose behaviors.”
“The others like Jeremiah?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you call me sooner?”
“No time, Olive.”
“Right, so what did you find out?”
“It isn’t good.”
“Why? What is it?”
“I’ve run a number of tests, specifically on the hormone that controls dreams, and also on the hormones released due to fear. Or due to nightmares, in this case.”
“Let me guess—they’re all having nightmares?” That wasn’t anything new.
“Yes, but unlike any nightmares I’ve ever seen. Their levels of corticotropin are almost triple what most people can tolerate.”
“What are you saying?”
“Children can’t handle fear as well as adults. Their nervous systems eventually shut down. Breathing and lung capacity are compromised. And soon after, the brain follows suit.”
“And that’s why they’ve gone into a coma?”
He didn’t answer. I knew he was trying to tell me something but couldn’t come up with a good way to do it.
“Dr. Hill, what are you doing in Boston?”
“I found one other child who contracted the nightmare disease before Jeremiah. A girl. Her name was Savannah.”
“Was?” I felt a cold chill creep up my spine.
“She died three hours ago.”
Stay calm. Control your breathing, Albert said.
“Are you there?” Dr. Hill asked.
“Yes, I’m here. How much longer does Jeremiah have?”
“I have no way of saying. But not long.
