She stood up at once and pointed at my mother. “You. What are you doing here?”

Moira gave her a little wave, almost like a salute. “Hello, Beth. Long time no see.”

“Get out,” Bethany sneered. Then she charged us, which would’ve been scary enough in the real world given her resemblance to a gorilla—she was thick and stout, with black bushy eyebrows—but she was twice as scary in her own dream. The black-and-white world around me began to melt as Bethany’s mind neared consciousness. Any moment now and I would be kicked out. I closed my eyes, bracing for the inevitable pain.

Bang!

I opened them again to see Bethany lying on the ground a few feet away, moaning. What the—?

“Never do learn, do you, Beth?” Moira said. She took hold of my arm and hauled me toward the two huge doors at the hall’s entrance.

“What did you do to her?” I said to my mother.

“Glass wall.” Moira pushed open one of the doors and stepped through. I followed her into the middle of a shopping mall. It wasn’t unusual for the scenery in a dream to change without warning, but I knew at once this was different. For one, the scene was solid again, all the melting and slippage now gone. For another, I was pretty sure this was the Macy’s department store in New York City, one of my mom’s favorite places in the whole world. Every summer she took me on a five-day shopping spree in New York as part of her annual attempt to buy my affection. I found it pretty unlikely Bethany would be dreaming about Macy’s of all places. From the looks of her, she hadn’t bought new clothes since 1989.

“Did you do this?” I asked.

Mom grinned, her bright eyes flashing as she faced the door we’d just come through. It was now normal sized and labeled JANITOR. She waved her hand over the doorknob, and the lock clicked into place.

From the other side of the door Bethany screamed, “Stop manipulating my dream, you bitch!”

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I just stared. “How are you doing it?”

Moira grabbed my hand and pulled me down the aisle at a run. “Any Nightmare can change the content of a dream. If you’ve got enough power, that is.” She stopped and ducked behind a shoe rack display, yanking me beside her. She whispered, “That’s one of the reasons why the Magi only want you to feed every other week. A fully charged Nightmare can do whatever they want inside a dream. Here, we’re like gods.”

A chill went through me at her words. It all sounded a bit too much like A Nightmare on Elm Street for my tastes. I understood the danger of that much power, having experienced enough bad dreams in my lifetime to know how scary and real they could be.

Moira continued. “Now that you’re allowed to feed more often, you can do this, too.”

“But why would I want to manipulate someone like that?”

“Lots of reasons. A dream-seer is two people, Destiny, not one. As the Nightmare, you read the dream’s content, but Eli is the channel for the contents. It flows through him. If you’re not getting anywhere, you can always help the flow by setting the scene.”

“You mean I could re-create what he saw about Rosemary?”

“Maybe. At the very least you can simulate the locale.”

I shook my head, but before I could ask any questions, Bethany burst through the door and came running down the aisle toward us. Moira stood up and faced her.

She glanced at me, and said. “You can also do this.” Moira raised her hands, and this time I saw the glass appear in front of Bethany, boxing her in.

Bethany slid to a stop and pounded on the glass with both fists. “Let me out. This is my dream.”

“All in good time, sweetheart.” Mom faced me. “Now I want you to create something. It should be small, inanimate, and familiar.”

“Don’t teach her that!” Bethany shouted.

Moira waved her hand again, and this time all the noise Bethany was making vanished. Mom turned back to me. “Go on.”

I hesitated, glancing at Bethany’s rage-twisted face. “Are you sure about this?”

“Quite. Beth’s just being paranoid. There’s nothing to worry about. Now go ahead. Try and create something you know well.”

Silly, I know, but the first thing to come to mind was a Milky Way Midnight bar. It was my favorite candy, and I was starved from skipping lunch. Plus, I’d always liked the wrapping with its purple-and-black galaxy background. No sooner had I pictured the thing than it appeared on the display table in front of me.

Moira spotted it at once and beamed. “Good job.”

I wasn’t used to her complimenting me, and I flushed as I picked it up. The candy was solid in my hand, and when I peeled off the wrapping, the smell of the dark chocolate made my mouth water.

I glanced at my mother. “I don’t know how I did it.”

She waved off my doubt. “Just try again.”

I did, but this time nothing happened.

Moira said, “Changing a dream works like mind-magic, but instead of using your mind, you use your imagination.”

“What’s the difference?”

“More than you’ll ever know. Now try again.”

I closed my eyes and did as she asked. Instead of visualizing the candy bar, I sort of day-dreamed about it. It took a long time, but I eventually managed to create a second Milky Way. The effort left me feeling like I’d run a marathon.

Mom patted me on the back. “Don’t worry. It’ll get easier the more you practice and the more you feed.”




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