Page 84 of Avalon Tower
“No, see?” I point at the coat of arms. “It’s the same antlers. And that same threadbare rug. We keep walking back and forth.”
Raphael’s fingers tighten on my waist. “We’re disoriented somehow. Have we been drugged? All we need to do is get outside.”
“Well, we came from the left passage,” I say. “So we should probably take the right.”
I start walking, but everything seems to be moving slowly, much too slowly. I’m walking as fast as I can, but I can hardly budge. I look down and realize that my feet are stuck in the threadbare rug, and with each step, I’m getting pulled back. The rug has become a strange, muddy goo.
“I’m sinking in the rug!” I shout in alarm.
“Don’t shout,” Raphael says. “Hang on. Where’s Viviane?”
It’s just the two of us now, and I’m knee-deep in the rug and sinking faster.
“We must have been drugged.” Raphael’s grip around my waist is solid, but somehow, I’m sinking and he’s not.
“No.” My stomach swoops. “The Castle of Dreams has become the castle of nightmares. This is the Dream Stalker’s work.”
It’s obvious now. Prince Talan must have realized his map is missing, and now, he’s trapped us.
“No way,” Raphael says. “He doesn’t even know who we are.”
“He doesn’t need to.” I’ve visited a dozen minds, minds belonging to the prince’s confidants, enough to learn things about him. “He can sense people’s subconscious when they’re nearby. We’re trying to get out, and we’re scared of being caught. That makes us different from everyone else in this place. He’s honed in on our minds and wrapped us up in this dream.”
Raphael’s grip tightens around my waist. “And he knows where we are?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. Not yet. But if we don’t get out, they’ll find us eventually.” I’m up to my thighs now in the liquidized rug. “Raphael, I’m drowning in this.”
“It’s in our minds,” Raphael says slowly. “Nia, even dreams can be controlled if you know it’s a dream.”
“I can’t get out of this!” I panic as his grip on my waist slips, and I sink deeper.
Raphael shifts his hold on me, taking my arm in a vise-like grip. “Don’t move.” His muscles flex, and he slowly pulls me free. The viscous rug gives way with a disturbing sucking sound.
I tumble into Raphael and cling to his steely chest, breathing hard. “We have to get out of here. Now.”
“Hang on.” He shuts his eyes, and his black eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks. “Concentrate. This is in our mind, right? So try to picture us finding the way out. Picture us finding Viviane and Freya on the way.”
I do as he says, closing my eyes. It’s hard to concentrate, but I do my best to imagine us reunited with Viviane and Freya, grabbing them by the hands and fleeing the castle.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Come on.”
He’s holding my hand as we walk, and there, at the far end of the hall, is the door that leads to the stairs and the sea. I can even see the glittering waves through the window.
“It’s working,” I say softly.
Raphael nods.
We rush for the door and hear a shout for help. Turning, we see Viviane and Freya running toward us, a wall of flames roaring down the hall behind them. Smoke billows, stinging my lungs and eyes. A fit of coughing racks my body, and though I know it’s just a dream, I can’t make the flames go away. The heat sears my skin. We’re going to burn.
Someone grabs me by the wrist, and I’m running, my eyes streaming from the smoke. Is the door gone again? We’re trapped in a waking nightmare. Over my coughing, I hear Raphael shouting instructions to Viviane and Freya, telling them it’s not real, that they have to imagine us getting out.
We’re lost again. We can’t find the door. Soon, I fear, we’ll be back at the beginning, back to the threadbare rug and the coat of arms. The Dream Stalker is toying with us. We’re his puppets, and he is pulling the strings.
“No, not there,” Raphael says. “Over here!”
Gripping my wrist, he pulls me to a random kitchen door. He yanks it open—