20. Rayner
Rayner
I didn’t mean to come here.
Fell asleep on somebody’s floor with the others spread out around me, and somewhere in there the pull took over and put me through a door I never opened.
Hers. Again.
Some walkers come up out of a dream swinging. Not me. I land soft, stay where I land, and read the place. Inside a breath I know whether I’ve got work to do.
Tonight I don’t. The dream’s calm. No teeth in it, no weather coming. Just her, asleep in the middle of it, and a lot of quiet.
Her plant is here, and it’s the size of a tree. Good for him.
I was in that apartment all night. Watched her hold it together through a busted door and four strangers and a number that wouldn’t add up.
Watched her call it and march off to her room with her chin up like she’d won.
Then she lay down, and the whole day came off her at once, and this is where it landed.
Awake she’s all motion — deflection, quick exits, a joke out the door before the fear can catch her. None of that made it in here. She’s just out. Resting like it’s been a while.
How long has it been? Since she’s put it all down and been exhausted enough that she finally gets to stop.
I’ve been finding my way into her dreams for years. I never told anyone, because what do you even say? For a long time I figured I had built her out of the old stories to keep me company, and I didn’t question it, because questioning it might make it stop.
Last night she was there, like always. Then I woke up, crossed to another realm on orders directly from the Vestry and there she was.
Like I had made her real.
Real.
She knew my face at the door tonight. Half a second, there and gone, and then she packed it away and looked at me like a stranger. That’s fine. I know how to wait.
I’ll wait as long as it takes.
Longer if I have to.
All those years, I didn’t know there was a real woman on the other side of those dreams. Tonight I do, and a real woman gets a say.
I could go to her. In here, distance is just a thing you decide — I’d cross it without a sound and she’d never know. I’m two steps toward her before I catch myself and stop.
She didn’t ask me in and I’m not going to add to everything she’s been through today.
So I hold the edge of her dream, and I watch. Dreams don’t stay easy forever, and when one turns, there’s nobody up top who can come down and pull her out. The others can sit on her door all night. Leif can case the building twice. None of them can stand where I’m standing.
This is the one part of her nobody else can cover. So I cover it.
I know what dreams can cost. I paid once.
She rolls over, settles deeper. Off at the far end a light comes up, warm and low, and then the dark above her starts filling in with stars, a few at first, then hundreds, and I don’t know if she’s making them or I am.
Starlight.
That’s going to stick.
I’ve never been more right about anything.
She’s not supposed to exist. I’ve known that a long time, and it never bothered me. She’s right in front of me now and I’m never leaving her alone again.
I can’t believe I actually found you.
I take a seat, my back against the plant.
Nothing in here is getting near her tonight.
Good.
“Sleep, Starlight. I’ve got you in your dreams.”
I whisper it knowing she can’t hear me.
I’m not going anywhere.