Alyson Noël - Shimmer

Grabbing a number from the dispenser and taking my place in what turned out to be a pretty long line, lying to myself yet again when I vowed I’d just take a quick peek, check in on my sister and maybe a few old friends, and then be on my way.

I waited my turn, checking out all the blue hairs, many of whom I recognized from my last illicit visit, and I couldn’t help but wonder why it was okay for them to look in on the earth plane, but not me.

Was it because they all claimed to be merely checking in on their grandkids, as opposed to salaciously watching the goings-on as though it were some kind of live-action soap opera like I did?

Or was there some kind of Here & Now double standard that allowed only the geriatrics to get all nostalgic, while the young ones were urged to forget?

The line grew as I inched my way closer to the front. Determined to keep to myself, to mind my own business, when I heard some old guy behind me say, “She still worries about me. After all this time, she just won’t stop grieving. No matter how many times I visit her in her dreams, no matter how many times I take her hand and say, ‘Helen, listen to me, I promise you, I am A-OK. Now please—get back to living!’ as soon as she wakes up, she convinces herself it wasn’t really me, and the grief starts again. And sometimes…” He paused, as I took a moment to surreptitiously check out the shiny black dress shoes and matching black socks he wore with his plaid Bermuda shorts. “I tell ya, Mort, sometimes I can’t help but wonder if I’m not making it worse.”

I turned. I couldn’t help it. I turned and blatantly stared right at him.

I’d never heard of such a thing.

Didn’t know it was even possible to visit another person’s dreams.

And before I could ask to hear more, he looked at me and said, “Can I help you?”

Though the words may seem kind on the surface, believe me, that was hardly their intent, not in the least. The tone in his voice informed me loud and clear that he wasn’t the least bit charmed by the sight of me, and was clearly annoyed by my eavesdropping.

“Um, sorry,” I said, my eyes darting between him and his friend. “But I couldn’t help but overhear, did you just say something about entering someone’s dream ?”

He narrowed his crinkly lids and looked me over carefully, as his friend, the one in the bright purple-and-orange Hawaiian shirt, the one he’d called Mort, decided to answer for him. “A dream visitation, that’s right.” He studied me carefully.

My mind swirled, spinning with all the major possibilities of such a thing, before saying, “And, um, could you maybe tell me how someone might go about doing something like that?” I pressed my lips together and prayed that didn’t sound nearly as desperate to their ears as it had to mine.

They peered, scrutinized, practically dissected me in a way that made it clear they were veering way closer toward not helping me, and I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe my glow was at fault.

My pale green, barely there glow that, according to Bodhi anyway, clearly marked me as a member of the level 1.5 team—a virtual newbie as far as they were concerned.

Even though I hadn’t had a chance to check it, to see if it’d been in any way affected by everything I’d accomplished back in St. John, one look at the way they both glowed this soft, serene shade of yellow, well, I figured they probably thought that sort of information was way too advanced for someone as lowly as me.

I’d started to turn away, telling myself to just let it go since they were obviously reluctant to help, when Mort looked right at me, rubbed his chin with a set of surprisingly shiny, manicured nails, and said, “Well, first you gotta go to the place where all the dreams take place.”

I swallowed and squinted, but otherwise did my best to remain still. Not wanting them to know that up until that moment, I’d had no idea there even was such a place.

Still, it was pretty clear by the look he exchanged with his friend that they both saw right through me.

Which is why I was so surprised when he ignored his friend’s elbow nudging hard in his side as he said, “It’s easy enough to find, all you have to do is—”

I leaned forward, eager to hear every last detail, only to have his words interrupted by someone shouting, “Next!”

I turned, seeing my number flash on the screen.

“Looks like it’s your turn.” Mort shrugged, along with his friend.

I was torn. Torn between wanting to check in on the earth plane, check in on my sister and friends, and my sudden but desperate need to learn more about the place where all the dreams happen.

I’d just started to broach it again when Mort’s friend, the one who started all this, said, “Listen, you gonna take your turn or not?”

I glanced between the two of them, and it was clear by the way they both looked at me that neither one of them had any plans to tell me anything more than they already had.

But while the moment may have passed, the seed had been planted.

And as far as I was concerned, it was good enough for a start.

I thrust my ticket into Mort’s hand and made a quick exit, hoping to find some kind of library or research center, some lofty place that might offer some answers, only to find Buttercup waiting right where I’d left him, with Bodhi, chomping hard on his straw, standing right alongside him.

“It’s not what you think!” I screeched, regretting the words the instant they were out. I mean, seriously . It’s not like I didn’t know better. I was pretty well-versed in how that sort of denial never works.

“We’ve been summoned,” Bodhi said, choosing to ignore my ridiculously transparent statement. “Which means you might want to take a quick moment to spruce yourself up. Oh, and you might also want to take a moment to hope and pray that no one finds out that the very first thing you did upon your return was come here .”

I screwed up my face, annoyed by his words, but still, I did what he said. Ridding myself of what had become a pretty filthy swimsuit and cover-up, before manifesting a cool pair of jeans, some ballet flats, and a super cute T-shirt in its place.

“Better?” I lifted my brow and tilted my chin.

But Bodhi just grunted and rushed ahead, calling over his shoulder to say, “Whatever you do, just follow my lead, okay? Please . Just do yourself a favor and—”

He paused long enough for me to catch up.

“Do yourself a favor and let me handle everything.”

He rounded a corner, and then another, then he led us up a whole lot of stairs to the same smoky-glass building where my life review had taken place.

And to be honest, if I’d had a stomach, that’s pretty much the exact moment it would’ve begun to spin and curl and somersault its way all the way down to my knees.

They were inside.

Aurora, Claude, Samson, Celia, and Royce—the entire Council assembled together, waiting to hear my side of things.

There was no way to avoid it.

I had no choice but to face it.

I’d acted willfully, rashly, stubbornly insisting on flaunting my free will despite being warned not to.

No matter how well it may have turned out in the end, the fact was, it wasn’t an assignment. If anything, it was the opposite. My guide had strictly forbidden it.

I squared my shoulders, checked my posture, and promised myself that whatever happened next, whatever happened on the other side of that door, I’d do everything I could to follow Bodhi’s instructions and not make things any worse than they already were.

He looked at me and I nodded sagely in return, acting as though I was ready, even though I was pretty darn sure that I wasn’t.