21. Tix
Desperation gave me strength as I held Fleth’s jaw open, trying to force the liquid down his throat.
He wasn’t going to submit that easily.
He began thrashing, the power in his arms evident as he tried to resist.
He was waking up!
The gargling noises he made were almost comical under different circumstances, but right now, it was deadly serious.
“Tix!” Grace’s frantic whisper came from behind me. “We need to leave!”
I nodded, but Fleth had gotten his wits about him enough to be a problem.
I did the only thing I could think of in the spur of the moment — I delivered a swift kick into his balls.
His eyes widened in shock, his grip slackening for just a moment, and I took advantage of his surprise, pouring the rest of the champagne down.
Fleth coughed and sputtered, his mind clouding over from the drugged champagne.
As he crumpled to the ground, I hoped the combination of the drug and the sheer shock would keep him out for a while.
Grabbing Grace’s hand, I didn’t even wait to see if Fleth was still conscious.
Her fingers were cold, trembling slightly in my grip.
We ran together, the hallways of the prison a blur as we raced past.
Grace noticed my limp but didn’t say a word.
The dread, the fear, and the thrill of the moment heightened our senses.
Every sound, every shadow, and every light in the hallway made us flinch, expecting to be caught.
As the familiar click of my cell door sounded behind us, the weight of the night’s events came crashing down on me.
The air was thick with tension, and every instinct in me screamed danger.
“We have to go back into Uhah’s nightmare,” I said. “This might be our last chance.”
I couldn’t keep the tinge of regret and fear from seeping into my voice.
She stared at me, her blue eyes widening. “What do you mean, Tix?”
I hesitated for a moment, swallowing hard before continuing. “Fleth’s species… they have a peculiar sense of honor. Mess with them once, and they’ll get their revenge. But do it twice…”
I trailed off, not wanting to put into words what I already knew.
Grace’s voice trembled. “And we’ve done it to him twice…”
Nodding solemnly, I stepped closer, holding out my hand. “Come with me,” I whispered, feeling the warm energy coursing between our fingers as we connected.
Together, we closed our eyes and let the dreamworld take us.
Here, the pain of my broken leg was fuzzy with distance.
Dreams had a funny way of dislocating reality from our imaginings.
“Uhah isn’t in his cell,” I informed Grace. “He’s in the hospital.”
Grace’s eyes searched mine. “The hospital? Why is he there?”
“He doesn’t have much time left.”
Her brow furrowed in confusion. “But how? When?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. But he’s old. It could be anything. His age and living at Ikmal so many years has taken its toll.”
Grace looked stricken. “We need to go to him. Now.”
Nodding, I focused on the infirmary, allowing it to pull us through the dream fabric.
Within moments, we were standing in the sterile environment of the prison hospital.
Antiseptics filled the air, and the constant beeping of machines served as a grim reminder of Uhah’s condition.
We spotted him lying on a bed, surrounded by various life-support systems.
His frail form looked even more delicate in the dim light, his skin almost translucent.
The realness of it all hit Grace hard.
She didn’t know him — neither did I, for that matter — but when you had talked in their mind, seen their dreams and nightmares, you developed a connection with someone.
I pulled her into an embrace, providing what little comfort I could. “We’ll help him, Grace. We’ll pull him out of this nightmare.”
She nodded, wiping away her tears.
We both knew that in the dreamworld, emotions, and memories had the power to manifest as nightmares.
And given Uhah’s current state, it was highly likely he was trapped in a particularly dark one.
Together, we stepped into his dream, and the world around us shifted.
Darkness enveloped us, punctuated by flashes of vivid, violent memories.
Screams echoed around us, and the sensation of being trapped, bound, and suffocated was almost overwhelming.