DREAMERS

Dreamers is Copyright © 2016 by Dell Sweet. All rights reserved foreign and domestic.

Cover Art © Copyright 2016 Wendell Sweet

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LEGAL

This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places or incidents depicted are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual living persons places, situations or events is purely coincidental.

Parts of this novel are Copyright © 2010, 2015 Wendell Sweet and his assignees. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means, electronic, print, scanner or any other means and, or distributed without the author’s permission.

Permission is granted to use short sections of text in reviews or critiques in standard or electronic print.

In the moonlight:

Laura

Joe sat nearby on the wall and she watched him as he watched her, sitting in a tall oak that shaded the wall from the moonlight. Morning was coming soon.

Last night they had found the note in the van. They had both been convinced it was a setup at first, there were as many bad spirits here as they were good. As many neutral dreamers as there were those who were searching out the path. Why should one contact them?

I had answered my own question. It could be as simple as it was. It reminded me of when I realized that Joe was one of those searching for the answers, trying to find the path. I hadn’t given it much thought at all, I had simply etched my name and number into the wall. This seemed to be the same thing

The note was simple: “Will find you tomorrow night. I have some of your answers.”

The night had come. Joe watching me. Me watching Joe, and now the night was about to pass and no one had come to either of us.

The new dawn began to color the horizon when a sparrow settled on the limb of the tall pine tree directly across from me and began to save her song. I listened as her song told the story: “When sparrow spirit went to the stars to live with the ancestors she lapsed into a dream state. Her body was kept from the ravages of death as the creator had given her life, but she was unable to function without her soul. Without what made her, her.

“Her mother, Birdsong, left not long after to be with her ancestors and stayed in the world of the dead. The Thief took her soul to the city of the dead and built her prison there.

“He built an island and surrounded it with water from the Rivers of the dead. The blood Rivers. He made that the home of water demons. He surrounded the island with a tall iron fence, topped with steel spires. Inside of that her steel cage sat on a raised stone platform. Inside the steel cage sat a small, ordinary looking stone, and inside that stone, he locked Sparrow Spirit’s soul away.

“Nearly 10,000 years has passed. Sparrow Spirit waits for the one who dreams. The dreamer, who was foretold by the creator, to Sparrow Spirit herself in her dreams. The dreamer who would free her from the stone.

“In those dreams she is called a sparrow herself. She is a woman of blood. A woman who walks the red path. There is only one gifted in all of creation that is that powerful. Only one that can save her from her prison.” The sparrow fixed her black eyes on Laura’s own. “She sent me to tell you she prays you well.”

The sparrow’s eyes stayed on my own.

“How can I find the past to her? How will I know how to fight? Who will tell me,” I asked?

“Seek those answers, believe in who you are, and they will come to you,” the sparrow said. “Will you come?”

“Are you going back to tell her,” I asked?

“Yes.”

“I will find my way,” I said after a few seconds.

The sparrow said nothing more about Sparrow Spirit, but began to sing the sparrow sunrise prayer. I sang with her as the sun began to color the horizon with pinks and golds. Then she lifted into the air and flew away. I lifted from my own branch and flew to the wall, landing as myself, arms locked around my knees as I crouched on the wall, feathers floating on the sunlit air. “We know,” was all I said.

A few seconds later I was falling into the black void…

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