He reached into his bag and pulled out a small stack of books. My eyebrows rose. He flashed an unrepentant grin.
“I paid a visit to the library before meeting you.” He arranged the books in a teetering stack on the edge of the table.
I picked up the first one and read the title written in glistening silver cursive, Basic Charms and Spells. “Isn’t this a beginner’s book?”
“Every dream relies on the basics,” he said. “You’d be surprised by how much your dreams improve with a mastery of even the most rudimentary skills. The more you understand the basics, the better you can use them.”
I so desperately wanted to learn more advanced magic, but I was still a stranger to this world, unfamiliar with the magic I’d been born with but which I still didn’t understand. What I’d seen of Darius’s own skills left me no doubt of his talent.
I took a deep breath and nodded. “Alright,” I whispered. “I trust you.”
His responding smile lit up his eyes. He took the book from the top of the stack and eased it open, but before he could begin, our food arrived, forcing us to delay our studies.
Darius had ordered a delicious spread of evergreen salad comprised of foreign juicy berries, cups of petal tea whose buttercup-scented steam tickled my nose with each sip, and a plate of pastries filled with dreamberry—a lilac fruit I’d never tasted before, but which I found to be sweet, tantalizing, and delicious; it oozed all over my fingers with each sticky bite.
I nibbled at the end of another frosted pastry, watching in awe as the cream and sugar added itself to the tea. Darius observed me with a soft look. “It’s such a pleasure seeing you discover your world.”
“I still feel as if I’m living a dream. I never could have imagined such a wondrous place existed.”
“It’s hard to imagine how a magical being such as yourself ended up on Earth.”
Despite the innocence of his observation, I instinctively stiffened. Does he suspect my connection to Mother? There was still so much I didn’t know about her, but if my suspicions were correct and she was the missing Weaver…I didn’t want anyone to know, least of all Darius.
Concern lined his brow. “Is something wrong?”
I forced a smile. “I’m fine.”
He seemed to sense I was uncomfortable, so he hastily changed the subject. “What’s been your favorite part about the Dream World?”
I stirred my tea thoughtfully. “Everything is so vibrant, as if I’m living within a painting. Not to mention it’s a relief not to have to hide who I am.” The fear I’d only just suppressed returned full force. “What if I’m not good enough to remain?”
“You are,” he said earnestly.
I wanted to believe him. But while the Dream World was wonderful and no other place had ever felt like home the way it did, I still felt out of place, the belonging I’d spent my entire life seeking still missing. Strangely, the longer I sat with Darius, the more I felt it…especially with the tender way he was looking at me.
I blushed and seized another pastry from the plate, desperate for a distraction. “What’s the Nightmare Realm like?” Everyone had been so secretive about it, but I found myself rather curious.
He became thoughtful. “It’s entirely different from the Dream Realm, lacking the color and vibrancy you love. I don’t think you’d like it.” He frowned, as if this thought disappointed him, before his expression cleared. “But I find it interesting and mysterious, with its own beauty that one can find if they look hard enough.”
We continued to converse, spending our time talking and laughing rather than studying. The bubble of warmth I often felt when around Darius grew as his words washed over me, but my pleasure came from more than his stories—it was the warmth filling his voice, the animated way he spoke with his hands, the softness in his eyes and the way his expression lit up as he spoke.
At first I was entirely aware of all the curious and disapproving glances cast our way from the other occupants of the café, but the longer I spent in Darius’s presence, the less I cared. At first I thought him oblivious to the whispers and stares, but after a while he paused to look over my shoulder.
He lowered his voice. “Is it bothering you?”
I hesitated. “Not at the moment.”
By the worried way he studied my expression, I could tell he remained unconvinced. “I’d hate to make you uncomfortable.” He broke his last pastry into pieces with his fingers, raining crumbs onto his plate.
I glanced over my shoulder to find many people in the café still casting glances our way, not even bothering to remain subtle in their bafflement. My chest tightened. The fact that they were still watching us, even after Darius and I had been here for a while… “Is this unusual, what we’re doing?”
His smile was wry. “Yes, especially since I’m undoubtedly not putting on a convincing enough performance that I’m here for anything other than the pleasure of your company. Dreamers and Nightmares don’t interact. It’s inevitable while attending the Academy and during Weavings, but otherwise both worlds keep to themselves.”
I scrunched my brow. “I don’t understand. Is our magic really so different?”
“It’s not a difference between our magic, but how we choose to use it—especially that Nightmares acquire more through instilling fear. Though I prefer how those from my world use their talents, I acknowledge the need for Dreamers. Both light and darkness need to exist; it’s all about balance.”
I considered that. “I suppose that makes sense. I’ve seen evidence of that very notion while living on Earth. Rain is an opportunity to look for rainbows, while the night grants the
