Boom-boom-boom.
The explosions were everywhere now, closing in around us.
Another fireball struck the tower, this one from far below, at its core. It rumbled upward, almost slowly. The ground shot up beneath my feet like a sinkhole in reverse. I pitched forward and slammed into the wall. The fissure spread and widened. The wall broke, huge chunks of stone falling over the edge. For a second I struggled to catch my balance, but then I lost it completely, helpless to stop my forward propulsion. Helpless to do anything as I plunged over the side.
The rush of wind ripped the scream from my throat. My body was beyond my control, my limbs locked in place by the momentum of the fall. Even still I twisted and turned through the air like a performance skydiver. I tried to pull back from the dream, but I was too afraid to concentrate. Far above me I saw Eli leap off the edge of the tower. He dove toward me, arms stretched forward. No fear showed in his face, only determination.
Several long, terrifying seconds later, his body struck mine with the force of a meteor. The dream world exploded around us. Pain tore through me, my entire existence seeming to shatter.
The next moment we were back in Eli’s dorm. I tumbled sideways off the sofa. My head cracked against the stone floor, Lance’s designer rug doing little to soften the impact. Starbursts covered my vision, and a sick feeling expanded in my stomach. I lay there, motionless, but I could still feel myself falling through the air, plummeting to my death from that tall, crumbling tower.
I kept my eyes open, afraid to shut them as I willed away the pain and terror. I’d never been afraid of heights before, but I had a feeling that might change after this.
Eli’s face filled my vision as he leaned over me. “Are you all right?” He reached for my arms.
I tried to nod, but the motion made my head pound even harder. Eli took hold of my wrists and pulled me upward. I let him, but only because I thought I would get sick if I opened my mouth to speak. When I was in a sitting position, he let go of my wrists. At once I began to fall backward, my equilibrium still screwed. He grabbed me, cursing beneath his breath as he dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around my shoulders.
I sagged into him, vaguely aware of the tears wetting my face.
“Shhhh.” He stroked my hair. “It’s okay. It was just a dream.”
But we both knew that wasn’t true. His dreams weren’t normal dreams. Not the ones we shared together. If I had fallen all the way, if I had struck the ground …
I shuddered, my body convulsing with another surge of terror. He held me tighter.
Slowly the fear began to pass, and I forced my sluggish brain to start working again. How had we ended up in my dream? How could it be so powerful to make me lose control like that? I tried to remember all the things I knew about dream-walking. Some Nightmares were powerful enough to infiltrate dreams from afar. Was it possible someone was interfering with both my dreams and Eli’s? I couldn’t imagine what else besides magic could affect me like that. My compulsion to read those letters went far beyond the level of normal dreaming. Even now my head buzzed with the desire.
I heard Eli draw a breath, and I braced for the inevitable questions, but none came. He seemed to understand that I wasn’t ready to talk. He just held me instead, his arms a strong, comforting force around me, his hand gentle as he stroked my hair.
I don’t know how it happened, but sometime later, my body shifted toward his, and I felt his warm breath on my face, a slow in and out. Inch by inch, I turned my face toward that warmth. His lips grazed my cheek. And then he was kissing me, his mouth full on mine, hot, wet, and demanding, as if he’d longed for it as much as I had. His hands slid up my neck beneath my hair until he cupped the back of my head between his palms, locking me in place. Tingles coursed through my body, explosions of pleasure erupting over my skin.
It ended much faster than it began. One second he was kneeling on the floor, kissing me, the next he stood and backed away, leaving me suddenly cold and struggling to hold myself up.
“Sorry,” he said.
I blinked once, twice, my head swimming with sensation and emotional overload. He was sorry? What for? He was acting like there was something wrong with kissing me. Or maybe the kiss had been bad.
I stopped that train of thought before it could continue any further down the tracks. I was already straddling the crazy line as it was. The last thing I needed was that kind of self-doubt. I’d kissed boys before him, and no one had ever complained.
But none of them were Eli.
Shut up.
I started to push myself up, nearly slipped, but then felt Eli’s hand on my arm, steadying me.
“Are you okay?” he said.
I pulled away from him, refusing to look in his eyes, afraid of what I might find there. I turned and sat down on the sofa, dropping my head into my hands. Now that the thrill of the kiss was gone, the pounding had returned full force, made even worse by my embarrassment.
“Why are you sorry?”
Eli shook his head. “It was wrong. I shouldn’t have done it. You’re hurt … and…”
“Oh, okay,” I said, still embarrassed and wanting the subject over.
He sat down beside me, keeping a careful distance between us. “So what happened?”
“I … I don’t know.” I ran both hands through my hair, relishing the pain in my skull as my fingers caught on snags. “But that place with the tower and the plinth … I’ve seen it before.”
“Where?”
I turned my head toward him, risking a glance. But he didn’t seem embarrassed or flustered at all. The kiss might never have happened. His expression registered only concern and interest.
“In my dreams,” I said. “Last night and a couple of times before, I think.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Huh.” He leaned back against the sofa, his hands falling into his lap. “That’s pretty crazy.”
“Yeah, tell me about it.” I crossed my arms and leaned back, too, hating the distance between us and yet wishing it was bigger. I wanted to be worried only about the dream, but that kiss and his reaction to it kept trying to press its way to the forefront of my mind. Was he really sorry simply because I was hurt and he thought it bad timing?
“Have you told Lady Elaine about the dreams?” Eli said.
“No, of course not.” An odd possessive feeling came over me at the idea, one I didn’t understand but couldn’t deny. They were my dreams and nobody’s business but my own. The word on that plinth was meant for me; I could sense it. A tinge of resentment went through me at the knowledge that Eli had seen it. I wished I could take it back. Never mind that he was forced to share his dreams with me time and time again. That dream was different. I knew it, and I could tell by Eli’s tense silence that he knew it, too.
“Well,” he said, stretching out his hand to pat my knee, “we’ll have better luck next time.”
“Sure.” I tried not to tense at his touch. It was hard. My lips still felt wet and swollen from our kiss. Sorry, he had said. Sorry.
So was I.
10
Mind Games
Paul Kirkwood returned to Arkwell the very next day. I spotted him walking down the cafeteria hallway before breakfast. At first I didn’t recognize the tall boy with the short-cropped blond hair and lean, serious face. Then it struck me, and I pictured a ponytail and flyaway hairs on the boy’s head. Of course they would’ve shaved his head in jail. In some matters, magickind liked to emulate the ways of the ordinary world.