Chapter 13 Dreams

“I do wish the rest of you would leave the talking to Digtry and me,” said Windglow.

“What’s your problem? I didn’t say nothing but the truth,” said Berch, defensively. “Don’t tell me our righteous Tishaaran advises lying to his own friends and allies!”

“Of course not, but some things can be said more delicately.”

“Well, if we offended them they got over it fast,” said Roland, hopefully. “I mean, they invited us to stay on as their guests. That’s a good thing, right?” He could just see that one awkward moment, thanks to Mr. Sunshine Berch, ruining what had promised to be the first carefree day he had experienced since arriving in the realms. “Any chance we could check on the bath situation?” he said, smiling at Delaney, who did not respond.

“Get your bath today, if you can find one,” whispered Digtry, rising from the table and gazing with regret at the piles of untouched food being whisked from the tables. “And your rest. We leave before morning.”

“You mean in the morning,” corrected Roland. Digtry’s unchanging expression told him he did not.

Alone and ignored on her side of the bench, Delaney whispered back, “Would someone tell me what’s going on?”

“I’m with her,” said Roland. “They just fed us the best meal I’ve had since I don’t know when, and you act like your allies are going to kill us in our sleep. What's up?"

“You can go as you please, short man,” Berch said to Digtry, unconsciously adopting the Lumberjacks’ brusque manner. “I’m staying. Shoot, with food like this, I may

never leave. Sign on as a night janitor or something. I ain’t too proud to work for my keep. Just sit here and do my job and ignore their stupid jokes until the heat blows over. Beats playing foxes and geese with the Rickshaws.”

“But-” Windglow started.

“But nothing,” snapped Berch. “I haven’t heard one sensible plan for getting out of these 'realms' of yours, and I’ve had just about enough of running around the country with a bunch of hired goons on my tail, chasing us for no reason anyone can figure. This place will do just fine.”

The reasoning made sense to Roland, although he swallowed hard at the implications of what Berch suggested. He was not prepared to abandon so readily the hope of returning to the world of his barely-remembered past.

Digtry said nothing.He just looked them, unblinking.

Delaney licked her lips nervously, and glanced over her shoulder toward the kitchen to make sure there were no Lumberjacks present. “You said these Lumberjacks were your friends, right?”

“Pardon me, but we have been over this several times,” said Windglow. “They are traditionally friendly to Tishaara, yes.”

“And they are the strongest people in all the realms?” broke in Berch.

“As far as brute strength, yes. Certainly in the lower realms,” confirmed Windglow. “As you can see, they could break us in half without any effort at all.”

“And if I understand all this realm blather,” said Berch, “when any higher realm types come across your border, they lose their powers, right? So there’s no one even from the big league realms who can take these guys. That makes this the safest place in the world for folks like us with a price on their head.”

Roland liked the idea that they all had a price on their heads--not just him. As much as he disliked Berch, he kept finding himself nudged into an alliance with him and Delaney against the two realmlanders. If this was, in fact, the safest place in all the realms, they would be crazy to leave it.

“Tishaara is quite impenetrable,” Windglow countered, defensively.

“So you say. But the number of things you’ve been wrong about on this trip is approaching infinity,” said Berch. “I’m staying.”

Roland and Delaney agreed. They were tired of being hunted by killers and roughing it in the woods with little or no food. They would stay in Big Timber as long as the Lumberjacks let them, and that was that. Roland felt almost smug at the way the three of them had finally asserted their independence over their guardians.

Digtry walked to the door. Leaning outside, he bent low and blew his nostrils clear.

“You going to stop us?” challenged Berch.

“You can do as you please,” sniffled Digtry. “Not that I’ll take pleasure in your untimely demise.”

“Speak for yourself,” snapped Puddles.

“What are you trying to say?” demanded Berch.

“I admit I’m curious about you two,” said Digtry, pointing at Delaney and Berch. “Your arrival ties into the mystery of that island somehow. But I’m not going to get any more information from you. So if you want to stay and take your chances with the Lumberjacks, be my guest. I’d be happy to notify your next of kin. Although given your circumstances, that could be problematic.”

Digtry’s certainty about her fate, and his apparent indifference, shook Delaney’s resolve. But the last thing in the world she wanted was to plunge back into wilderness with Raxxars and who knew what else lurking about. “Windglow, if we somehow insulted the Lumberjacks or said something dumb, can’t we simply explain and apologize?”

“Yeah,” snapped Puddles. “Windglow’s good at apologizing. The advantage of being stupid is you get lots of practice at that sort of thing.”

Digtry sighed. “Let’s get settled into our guests quarters. If we’re to speak of this, best we not do it in a public place.

The thick coating of sawdust and pollen on the window sills and bunk beds (the only furniture in the room) told how seldom the place had been used. Despite the renown of their breakfasts, the Lumberjacks’ intimidating nature and haphazard hospitality tended to discourage visitors. Even their own Jills appeared so seldom at the camp that there were no separate quarters available to them, and the Jacks were not inclined to keep tidy.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Immediately upon entering the room, Roland began to throw open one of the windows to air out the place. But Digtry stopped him. “Privacy,” he reminded him. After herding them all to edge of the bed furthest from either window, he studied each of them in turn as if weighing their character and trustworthiness.

“Nice owl imitation,” said Puddles. “Can you do a lizard?”

Digtry ignored him. “I didn’t want to tell you this; the less you know, the better off you are if captured. But you leave me with no choice." He paused, reluctant to reveal his thoughts. Finally, he said, "We're dealing with a Fifth Realmer. That’s who’s after us.”

He let the pronouncement hang in the air. Roland sensed there was something significant, maybe even critical about it, but he was still not well-versed enough on realm lore to catch the implications. Whether or not Devil-throat was a Fifth Realmer made him no more or less hideous than he already was in Roland’s mind. The fact that the news stunned Windglow into fearful, open-mouthed silence might have meaning or it might not, given his tendency to overreact to any and all stimuli.

Berch, on the other hand, sat unmoved on his bed. “Thanks for sharing, but what does that have to do with the Lumberjacks?”

“We’ll get to that. First, the facts. The one directing this manhunt for Roland enlisted the Raxxars in the effort. How? Raxxars neither speak nor understand speech. They hate everyone. They certainly no one’s commands. So who could recruit them?”

“I confess that I am stumped,” said Windglow.

“Fifth Realm.”

As comments and questions flew at him, Digtry held up a hand for silence. “Speech is not part of the spirit world, for they communicate without it. Telepathic communication

occurs only in the Fourth and Fifth Realms. How then would a spirit communicate in the lower realms?”

Again, no one could even venture a guess.

“Put it this way,” continued Digtry. “Where do we in the lower realms have access to a world that does not physically exist?”

Again they struggled to come up with anything until Windglow finally said, “Perhaps in worship?”

“Some kind of meditation?” said Delaney. She seemed to be tracking more closely with Digtry on this than with any other subject they had encountered in the realms. Roland wondered if she was even aware of how hard she was swinging her feet that dangled off the upper bunk.

“If the contact were initiated by a lower realmer, either method could work. But remember we are talking about the Raxxars.”

“They would sooner bite off their own heads than worship anything,” Windglow agreed. “And they could not sit still to meditate if you tied them to a tree post and hit them over the head with a shovel.”

“So we ask again, what access does the spirit world have to us in the lower realms? How could a spirit touch our thoughts?”

“You mean like inspiration?” tried Roland.

“Depends on how you define inspiration. In this realm, Fifth Realmers have no more ability to inspire than you or I.” Digtry sighed with growing impatience. “Where do we have access, initiated from outside ourselves, to the spirit world?”

“Dreams?” asked Delaney.

“Exactly. The only place where Fifth Realmers can initiate communication with us is in dreams. Raxxars dream as well as we do. So do wild dogs, apparently. A Fifth Realmer could contact them and direct them through dreams.”

“But that is not possible,” insisted Windglow, his face knotted in bewilderment as he tried to follow Digtry’s line of reasoning. “By doing so they would be exercise a power greater than that which exists here. None of us in this realm has the power to influence through dreams. How could they do so?”

“But we do have the power to influence through dreams,” said Digtry.

“Hypnosis,” said Delaney.

Digtry’s eyebrows arched high. “Very good. Yes, hypnosis is achievable in this realm. The Ordunese, for example, have some skill at it.”

Windglow clutched his head in his hands. “This is terrible! Here, I have been taught from the time I could walk that we were safe from the Fifth Realm, that the bonds protect us. And now you are telling me that they can walk into our dreams whenever they wish and force us to do their will?”

“No. Such power does not exist in the lower realms. Fifth Realmer or not, they can force nothing. All they can do is communicate. That is, they can suggest.”

Delaney broke in eagerly. “That’s right. Hypnosis is only the power of suggestion. When you hypnotize people you can’t make them do stuff they don’t really want to do.

In fact, some people can’t be hypnotized at all. They just aren’t susceptible to that.”

Windglow gaped at her. “Excuse me, Delaney, but you never told us that you were a wizardess.”

Delaney waved him off. “I’m not, but I saw a tv show that explained all this.”

“A what?” asked Windglow.

“Never mind.”

“Delaney is right,” said Digtry. “Two facts pertain to Fifth Realmers in the lower realms. First, they can communicate only by coming upon a person in sleep and presenting a vision. The dreamer may respond to it or not. May remember it or not. But he or she will act upon the vision only if he predisposed to do so. Raxxars enjoy violence so the

suggestion to hunt prey in the August Mountains would find dry tinder to inflame their souls.”

Windglow mopped beads of nervous sweat off his brow. “Are you saying that Fifth Realmers could be anywhere, working on our minds? Trying to influence us? Why do they not just work on us instead of through Raxxars? Persuade us to give up? There are certainly moments when I am half inclined to do so.”

“Or why not try to persuade us just to turn in Roland?” said Berch.

“They cannot do it from afar. Not in the lower realms. They have to be in contact with a subject in order to communicate with it. Which explains why Fifth Realmers normally don’t even try to communicate or influence us.”

“Of course, because they do not dare come to our realms,” said Windglow, collapsing in relief on the bed next to Digtry. “There is no immortality in the lower realms; they would not dare open themselves to the risk of death.”

“Exactly. Yet in this case, a Fifth Realmer has chosen to take that risk. It has surrendered its shield of immortality. It stalks us here, in our realm."

“How do you know this?” asked Windglow.

“Because one of us saw it.” His eyes rested on Roland.

Roland had been taking in the entire conversation, trying hard to follow what Digtry was saying. He thought he had been doing well until the moment Digtry focused on him. The shock left him speechless. Where did I see a Fifth Realmer? Who was it?

“You mean Devil-throat is a Fifth Realmer?” he asked.

Digtry shook his head. “Who was the first person you saw when you landed on the island?”

For a moment, Roland completely blanked, until his scattered memories gradually began to crystalize. “Um, I guess it was those two Brooking guys. The ones who-”

“Before that.”

“There wasn’t any-”

“Do you understand the concept of sequence?” demanded Digtry. “As in, "that which comes before the other." What was the first image you saw?”

Roland felt as though he were drowning in a sea of hazy memories. “Let’s see, let’s see. I guess the first image I saw it was me. I thought I was looking at a vision of myself. Like in a mirror except we weren’t in synch. Is that what you mean?”

“You saw an image of yourself. That brings us to the second thing I know about Fifth Realm beings. They have no physical form. Persons cannot exist in our world without a physical form. Therefore a Fifth Realmer entering a lower realm must assume a form that already exists in that realm. Since it has no physical form of its own to assume, it assumes the form of whatever is looking at it. It would look like a mirror image of yourself.”

Roland blanched. “That was a Fifth Realmer? I was that close to one of those . . .”

“You saw a Fifth Realmer?!” interrupted Windglow. “You actually saw one?! You know there are many people who doubt they even exist. Did you speak to it?”

“No. He didn’t see me, I don’t think.”

“I suppose that was lucky for you,” said Windglow.

“Unlucky for the rest of us,” said Puddles.

“I saw myself walking around,” said Roland. “I just thought it was a hallucination--some side efffect of my transport to this place.”

“It was a Fifth Realmer,” insisted Digtry. “The suspicion that you may have seen it is very likely the reason why you, and now all of us, are in danger. A Fifth Realmer does not belong on a restricted island in the Second Realm. And it does not want the world to know it’s there.”

“Wait a minute!” cried Berch. “Whatever voodoo gobbledygook you’re talking about is beyond me. What I want to know is, what has this got to do with the Lumberjacks? Just tell me that! If this Fifth Realm thing is after us, what’s that got to do with them and why are we in danger here?”

“Ever since we entered the Third Realm, our Fifth Realmer has been two steps ahead of us. That gives reason to suspect it’s been here. In Big Timber.”

“But what can it accomplish here? Lumberjacks are our allies,” insisted Windglow. “Temperamental, to be sure. But surely they would not turn against us merely because through a dream.”

“Then explain what happened in that hall,” said Digtry.

“It may have been just Lumberjacks being Lumberjacks,” said Windglow. “You know how they can get.”

“You want to take that chance, go ahead.”

“Can't you just, like, talk to them?” asked Delaney, pleading with her eyes.

Digtry shook his head.

“I must agree with Digtry,” said Windglow, with a long face. “A Lumberjack’s short fuse and (please do not repeat this) thick head, are an exasperating combination in the best of times. I hardly need remind you, these are far from the best of times.”

“You all do what you want,” said Digtry. “Except for Roland. You’re coming with me and we’re leaving tonight. I’d leave now if I thought we could get away.”