I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I got a whiff of the roasted peppers. “They make breakfast burritos here?” I took a bite of the spicy awesomeness.
“Come on,” Brooks said. “You can eat and walk.”
“You already know the way to the library?”
“I flew around, mapped it,” she said casually. “In case we need an emergency exit.”
We made our way across several bridges, passing a dozen or so darkened tree houses, until we reached a rope ladder that led us down into a thicket of silvery-green trees that were so ancient-looking it seemed like they had sprouted from some dead artist’s canvas.
“Pretty awesome, isn’t it?” Brooks said as we headed down a narrow path of shadows. “Did you know the temperature here is always a perfect seventy-three degrees? Oxygen levels are optimal, too. Oh, and it’s all-you-can-eat—of anything you want! Well, mostly. Which is how I got the burritos. We can go to the café later so you can check it out.”
I popped the last bite of breakfast into my mouth. So, the gods had made a paradise for us. That was super nice and all, but it did nothing to douse the fire that had been pulsing in my bones since the dream. Sometimes I wished the fire would just talk to me. You know, with direct messages like Turn here, Don’t go into that dark room, etc.
“Hey.” Brooks snapped her fingers in front of my face. “I know that look. What’s the deal?”
It was weird. We’d been apart for three months, and it felt like it had only been three hours. All that worry about Brooks ghosting me or things being weird between us vanished. We were still friends, even though she’d read all those things I’d written about her in my book and I had, you know, maybe almost kissed her that night on the beach—emphasis on almost. I thought about what Hondo had said: It’s complicated falling in love the first time. Is that what I felt for Brooks? Love? Or complicated? Or both?
I told Brooks every detail of the Red Queen’s dream visit. Brooks stopped and faced me. “Centipede? Jungle? Earth spirit?” She sighed. “Does she ever give you, like, solid details?”
“Nope.”
We walked a few more paces, and I thought Brooks was puzzling out the Red Queen’s message, but she switched topics. “And did Hondo tell you how he managed to survive the sludge?”
I scratched my cheek, wishing she wasn’t staring at me like that. “Just got lucky, I guess.” I knew the lie was worse than pathetic the second I spilled it.
“Lucky. Uh-huh.” Brooks stopped and stuck a hand on her hip. Uh-oh. She studied me hard, her eyes flashing copper. I was going to combust any second. Then she waved a whatever hand through the air and said, “Did you say that Ixkik’ was your teacher?”
“Not my teacher. She was using him to write that message, Are your eyes wide open?”
“That doesn’t sound good.” She looked up at the sky, then back to me. “Maybe it was just a really bad nightmare.”
“Nah,” I said. “She was there for sure.” Which made me never want to fall asleep again.
“And Adrik was there, too? Like there there, or like you just dreamed about him?”
I gave it half a thought and was shaking my head before the words came out. “He was there. Like, in the flesh.” Adrik had looked different than the glassy-eyed students and Mr. H—they were more like paper cutouts, two-dimensional. He was fully there, in all three dimensions.
“Huh” was all Brooks said.
“Huh? Huh what?”
“Maybe his gift”—her eyes drifted to mine—“has to do with dream walking.”
“Dream walking?” I remembered how my neighbor, Ms. Cab, had shown up in my dreams all those months ago, but I’d thought that was because I carried one of her magic eyeballs, making it possible for her to communicate with me.
“Dreams are sacred,” Brooks said, continuing down the path. “They were once a way of communicating with ancestors. And I’m no expert, but Quinn has told me how, a long time ago, spies used dreams to send secret messages.”
Brooks hooked a left down an even narrower, darker path littered with rocks and fallen leaves. Thick, knotted tree branches twisted in a creepy shadow web. I could feel the weight of the miniature monkey eyes on me even though I couldn’t see the rascals. I braced myself for a toilet paper pounding.
“Then what happened?” I asked.
“The gods happened,” Brooks said with a hint of sadness. “They banned the whole practice, because they didn’t want anyone else to be able to communicate in secret. They’re so mean.”
“Well, if Adrik is a dream walker, then he should hang out in someone else’s head. It was creepy, like being watched when you don’t know you’re being watched.”
We came to a crossroads. Brooks looked left, then right, hesitating.
“Are you lost?”