“Not at all,” Fable said. “But it’s driving me crazy.”

“I am afraid if I tell you why, you’d snap at me,” he remembered the Dreamhunter’s Diary mentioning that whoever walked through the purple light could end up insane.

“I know what you’re thinking, Axel,” Fable said. “You think it’s just something that happened because I am exhausted. You don’t believe that I have actually peeked into the dream.”

“That’s exactly what I am thinking,” Axel said. “It’s all psychology, believe me. I read about it.”

“Yeah, how so?”

“You’ve been thinking about the spell to get into Loki’s body since we woke up,” Axel folded his arms. “It’s been on your mind all day. But you wouldn’t do it because it is dangerous. Therefore, your mind played tricks on you, making you think you saw into the Dreamworld. How else can you explain how you only saw Loki and not Shew?”

“I really have nothing to say to your stupid theories,” Fable rubbed her arms as if it were cold all of a sudden. “You just think you know it all.”

“Trust me, I know what I am talking about,” Axel said. “You wanted to do anything to go save Loki, but like you said, you had to know his real name to use the spell. And when you didn’t, you went into some kind of denial and your mind created an alternative reality for you. I told you I read a lot about the subject.”

“What are you talking about?” Fable still rubbed her arms, slightly shivering. “I know what Loki’s real name is now. Loki Van Helsing. Actually, it’s Loki Abraham Van Helsing. You told me that.”

“Oh,” Axel’s eyes widened. “I did. Just forgot. There is too much information in my head today.”

“And I had even more reasons to use the spell and enter Loki’s body when you told me that the only way to break the locked dream was for one to kill the other,” Fable said.

“So my psychoanalysis didn’t work?” Axel rubbed his chin then pulled his phone out to surf the internet. He needed to look up where his analysis went wrong.

“But the thing is,” Fable said as Axel was scrolling. “I didn’t need to wait until you told me about how the dream can be broken.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be with you in a minute,” Axel scrolled through the phone.

“Please pay attention, Axel,” Fable’s jaw started to shiver. “Can’t you understand what I am telling you? Look at me.”

Slowly, Axel raised his head. He watched his sister who looked even worse than before, and his mind began replaying the day’s events again. He thought about everything that had happened since they had followed Loki to the Schloss.

Everything came together now. He knew why Fable was shivering, and what she was trying to tell him. For the first time, he  believed she had crossed to the Dreamworld. She did really meet Loki as a Huntsman.

But how could she? He gazed at her, disappointed and worried.

“How could you, Fable?” he said softly. “And when did you do it?”

“While you were consumed by reading  J.G.’s diary,” Fable said. “I recited the spell to myself. It wasn’t that hard, and it worked.”

“You are connected to Loki in the Dreamworld now?” Axel had no intention of yelling at her. He pitied her. She was suffering already, looking ill from using the spell.

“Yes,” Fable nodded. “But it’s like an ‘on and off’ thing. I can only see him when he shows up in Shew’s dream. When he doesn’t, my vision is blank, and I can’t see anything.”

“I’m so disappointed with you. What have you done?” Axel said. “Look at you. You look like you’re going insane.”

“It’s messing with my mind, Axel,” Fable spit uncontrollably. “The problem is that I’m not even in Loki’s body. I can only see him.”

“Forget about Loki, now,” Axel said. “Tell me what I can do. Is there a spell that could save you?”

“I don’t know,” Fable said. “I need to cross the purple light into the Dream Temple.”

“No, you won’t,” Axel blocked her, his back to the light. “What you have done to yourself is enough. I’m going to take you to a hospital now.”

“Hospitals have no cure for magic spells, Axel,” Fable said, trying to peek over his shoulder at the purple light. “If I went that far, let me into the Dream Temple. I will posses Loki’s body and break his connection with Carmilla. Maybe then, one won’t have to kill the other.”

“I said no,” Axel pulled her away from the light. Fable was weak enough. She didn’t resist him. “Look what’s happened to you from using the spell, and you haven’t entered Loki’s body yet. Who knows what happens then? I have no interest in Loki and Shew coming back if you’re dead.”

Fable insisted one more time. Axel slapped her hard enough she fell back in his arms, helpless and unable to move.

“I’m sorry, sis,” Axel said, holding her tight. “I can’t let you inside the Dream Temple.”

33

A Breath of Life

Shew wasn’t sure at first because she thought she was numb, but apparently someone had been touching her lips for some time.

A breath of air tickled her lungs. The air was warm. Shew felt it fill her veins as her hearing and vision slowly came back.

This must be it, she thought. The kiss of life again. Could it be Loki?

Whoever touched her lips didn’t taste of Loki’s. Was it the prince she’d bitten when she was younger?

Now that her soul returned to her body, she knew that whatever touched her lips tasted of metal. She was sure it wasn’t a kiss. The magic wasn’t in the metal on her lips, but in the breath filling her soul.

She opened her eyes, eager to see who resurrected her. Who else would it have been, but Cerené?

“Hurry up, Joy,” Cerené urged. “They’re preparing the bathhouse for the Queen’s ceremony so she can consume your heart. We’re still in the chamber. They all left and I sneaked in through the fireplace,” she pulled off her muzzle.

“You saved me,” she hugged her, unable to express her gratitude enough. “I think you’re my Chanta or something.”

“I’m your Chanta, really? What’s a Chanta?”

“I understand now,” Shew said. “I’m not alone.  I have a mentor, except it’s not an old man with a stick and white beard. It’s you.”

“You’re talking too much, Shew,” Cerené said. Shew remembered Death and Loki before telling her the same thing. “You have to escape the castle now. Here is your sword,” she gave her the glass sword she’d designed for her. “I named it Joyuka Snotari. You know like all those legendary names of swords sent to the huntsmen from the Far East?”

Shew took the sword, and the first image that hit her was the blood of her enemies on it.

“I have your favorite unicorn tied up outside the window. You can escape on it,” Cerené said.

“I won’t escape,” Shew said. “I will fight.”

“Don’t be impulsive. You still need to learn a lot. You still need to find your own Art,” Cerené said. “There is a cottage in the forest that I know of.”

“What cottage?” Shew wondered, already heading for the window. “Is it safe?”

“I found it once and hid in it when running from my stepsisters,” Cerené explained. “It’s my secret place from the darkness in Sorrow. I don’t know if it’ that safe, but its secret is that you can only get if someone guide you to it. It’s like Candy House; it changes places. I met a kind old man there once who told me I could go hide in the cottage anytime I like.”

“What old man?” Shew turned around.

“When you get there, you’ll see there are other people using it. I haven’t met them, but don’t fear them. They look lost like you and me.”

They look LOST like you and me.

The words rang in Shew’s head. This must be them, The Lost Seven.

“You didn’t answer, Cerené. What old man?”

“His name is Charmwill. Love his name, but I don’t think you’ll see him again. I just met him once. Just go now,” Cerené pushed her. “I’ll find you.”

“How?” Shew asked. “How am I even supposed to find the cottage?”