I held up my hand, and as neatly as if tugged by a string, the bone dagger flew into my palm. The hilt slapped my hand, and a bit of the blade as well; it parted my skin as easily as butter and I flinched, nearly dropping the knife. But I couldn't afford to drop it, so I didn't. I gripped it, a thin trail of blood dripping down the ivory surface, and I raised it toward the Hunter.
My voice shook. "Go back to her and tell her I want my friend back. And I want Luke."
The Hunter's eyes were fixed on me as if they would will the knife from my hand. "I will not leave my quarry."
"You will," I said, holding the knife steady with sheer force of will. "Go tell her what I said." I held out my other hand, the palm toward him, and imagined it was a huge giant's hand pressing into the Hunter's chest, gripping the strange surface of his clothing. And I shoved the giant's hand as hard as I could, pulling what force I could find in the darkness-that-was-not-yet-darkness.
The Hunter stumbled backward, pressed down the hill. I shoved some more.
"Go, or I'll crush you," I lied. I barely had the strength to hold the dagger, much less to threaten him. It took all that was in me to squeeze the giant hand on his chest a bit, to hopefully convince him I had the strength to do what I said.
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He gave me a long look and then he lifted a hand. "Hounds, come."
They streamed after him, coats glittering in the long evening light. I waited, my hand outstretched and shaking, until they had been gone two long minutes.
"Is he gone?" I finally whispered.
Thomas nodded, disbelieving. "Yes."
"Good," I said, and collapsed.
***
In my dream, I lay on a hill in a ring of mushrooms that glowed dusky white in the light of a million stars. There was no place in the world closer to the night sky than was that hill where I lay, the darkness pressing all around me, holding me to it. Every breath I took, the night filled me.
In this dream, I lay on my back, staring at the multitude of stars above me and at the chalk-white surface of the moon. I knew I was dreaming because as I looked at the moon, I could see curled birds trembling on its surface, white wings folded over one another in an impossible puzzle.
There was something so beautiful and vast about their presence that I wanted to cry. Had they always quivered there in the light of the moon, only I'd never seen them until now?
It took me longer than I would have thought to realize I wasn't alone. It wasn't until I heard him sigh. I turned my head to look into his face. "I thought you were dead."
Luke looked tired; there was dried blood on his face and an odd longing in his voice. "I'm afraid not."
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I swallowed tears; they got stuck in my throat. "I wish you were really here."
Sitting next to me, he cradled my cold bare feet in his warm hands; the flight from the hounds had left them filthy. "Oh, me too, lovely. But I'm glad enough for a dream; it was clever of you to think of it."
I didn't remember thinking of anything before I dreamt. I only remembered falling into the grass and wishing that the darkness had come sooner.
I pushed myself up, sitting closer to him, taking comfort in the memory of his smell. He wrapped his arms around me and spoke in my ear. "Don't let Them take my secret from you. It's all I have to give you."
He sounded miserable, his head resting on my shoulder, so I said earnestly, "All I want from you is you."
Luke's breath escaped in a long sigh. "Oh, Dee, I never wanted to be free as badly as I do now. I didn't think it would hurt like this."
"I'm coming to save you," I said.
He pushed back from me, holding me by my shoulders, staring into my face. "No matter what I say later, remember that I'll never hurt you. I could never hurt you." I didn't know if he was promising me or convincing himself.
"Tell me what to do," I pleaded.
Luke frowned, and I thought he would say that he didn't know what I should do. But he took my chin in his hand. "Trust yourself."
It wasn't what I wanted to hear. I couldn't trust myself; every time I did, I swapped memories with someone, made
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a car run continuously, or fell down in a useless faint. I didn't know what I was doing. I was a little kid waving a gun, playing with a toy of unimaginable power. I stared away from him at those milling white birds on the surface of the moon, thinking how they represented just how much I didn't know.
"Stop," he said. "I know what you're doing. You're a smart girl, Dee. The smartest I've ever met."
"Smart doesn't have anything to do with it," I snapped, jerking my chin away. "I can teach myself stuff from books or from watching someone else do it. How am I supposed to learn anything about this? There aren't any books on being a freak, as far as I know."
"I'm always pissing you off." Luke shook his head. "Even in your dreams, I'm managing to piss you off."
I looked back at him, at his tired, pale face watching me with his pale blue eyes reflecting the light of the moon-birds. He looked so vulnerable and human in this darkness. I shuddered. "I'm afraid I'll screw up and lose both of you."
"You have to trust yourself. You don't need someone else to tell you what to do."
Maybe I did. Maybe I wasn't ready for the independence I'd wanted so badly. I buried my face in my
