Page 70 of Fallen Stars
Ariete’s hands ran up to her hair, threading through the red silken strands as he sucked on her lower lip.
“There,” he said raggedly, finally pulling away. “You may make your wish.”
“I wish—” Merissa started before leaning into Ariete’s ear. Elara didn’t hear the rest and frowned, wondering what Merissa could possibly be saying that needed to be whispered.
Elara’s eyes narrowed as Merissa finished, sitting up straighter. Ariete’s chuckle was cut short. Just like that, his body had gone limp, his head lolling back in his seat. Merissa peered at him.
“Out cold,” she whispered, not daring to move. Elara whipped the illusion off herself, striding behind Ariete.
“You okay?” she asked, stroking Merissa’s hair. The demi-Star nodded, the hand she brought to her lip trembling slightly.
“Fine,” she replied. “It really wasn’t that bad, not at all.”
“Keep watch over us both and stay where you are. Eli is on the other side of the door. Throw a thought out to him if you notice Ariete beginning to stir before I wake.”
Merissa nodded, still straddling the unconscious Ariete. Elara raised two hands elegantly, holding them out to either side of Ariete’s head. She breathed in and out deeply, allowing the hypnom to enter her and guide her softly into a sleeping state.
“Just like walking through any other dream, Elara,” she muttered to herself, controlling her breathing. And with a last breath out, she secured her tether, finding its black chords anchored to the earth, and with a second inhale, she found the drop.
She rose from her body, seeing the top of Merissa’s glamoured red head, Ariete’s burgundy and black striped one, and the pulsing, angry starlight bursting from the dreamscape floating above his head.
She took a step towards it, then another, every instinct in her screaming and begging her to turn back.
But Enzo’s salvation lay beyond the cloud, and with a last thought to him, an ‘I love you’ sent with such force that she was sure it would reach him in the dreamlands, Elara entered Ariete’s dreams.
Chapter Twenty-Three
As Elara thudded onto dead, yellowed grass, accordion music floated to her. She was up in an instant, Eli’s training at the front of her mind. Ariete would try launching an attack the moment she entered. But as she looked around warily, she saw instead a stretching field of worn grass, and squinting, a large looming…tent in the distance?
She raised an arm, summoning shadows and stopped, frowning at her hands. Netted fingerless gloves coated them, and as her eyes peered further down, she saw that a deep red gown graced her, ruffles bulking out the skirt. She was suddenly aware of a weight on her head, and feeling gingerly above, made out the form of a small top hat, seemingly tilted sideways on coiled hair.
“Oh Stars,” she muttered to herself, picking her skirt up gingerly between a thumb and forefinger. Even in a dream state, Ariete had found a way to paint her into some kind of morbid twin of his. A red satin ballgown ruffled to the ground, interspersed with layers of black taffeta, the bodice whalebone tight to her waist.
“Fitting,” she added, rolling her eyes. And impractical. She hitched up the skirts as she began to stride purposefully towards the ominous shapes ahead, making out as she approached a large archway.
As she arrived to it, she squinted, realising there were words painted on it in a curling script.
‘The Stars won’t save you here’
She turned her head, heart pounding as she expected Ariete to be waiting behind her. But she was alone, only the lilting music her company. As she looked through the haze, she realised that beyond the arches was a fairground. The blurred shapes of the tents were clearer here, huge and circular, striped with red and black too. The air held a slight chill in it, wind whistling. Elara looked once more to the warning written above her, and with a determined set of her jaw, stepped through the arch.
“Ticket, madam?”
Elara jumped, an arm raised in defence as she beheld a young, handsome man, his head shaved revealing a swirl of tattoos over his scalp. His upswept almond eyes were completely black, and Elara took a step back.
“Ticket, madam?” the man repeated, a vacant smile on his face. Elara subtly weaved an illusion between her fingers, holding a metallic red ticket up to the steward. A first test.
The steward peered at it as Elara held her breath.
“Wonderful. Welcome to Lord Ariete’s Circus of Dreams. We hope you enjoy the show!”
Elara gave a small smile, nodding, but the steward looked vacantly past her, those black eyes dimmed as though he had simply stopped animating. Elara hurried on, the music louder now that she was past the archway.
She smelled buttered popped corn and cinnamon on the breeze, and she had to pause for a moment and get her bearings. This was strange. Far too strange. She had entered his dreams with almost no resistance, allowed to walk through with barely a defence save for the admissions booth. And now that she was in, where the hell did she begin to search for Ariete? She knew the tether was with him, that it was he she would need to seek.
She looked around to the circus tents, unsure which one to venture into. But before she could decide, a hand gripped her wrist.
She jumped, instantly pulling away as the man from the ticket booth smiled placidly, hand still gripping her wrist.