Kat Bastion - Forged in Dreams and Magick

Still suspended high above the Earth in frothy fairy dust, I searched in vain for a way down. Irritated, I charged through the glittering fog in a direction only identifiable as forward until a clear path presented itself, the mist falling away. A dark area opened ahead, and I rushed toward the only discernible gateway out of the total whiteout.

No light entered the black hole of a passage. The void completely shrouded whatever existed beyond, yet something drew me forward, and I held no fear of its unknown.

I stepped through the threshold, unsure of what awaited me on the other side. A low pop sounded as a membrane gave way, catapulting me through. I stumbled forward from the sudden release, landing with my hands sprawled across . . .

Iain’s map desk.

In his study.

My fingertips rustled through vellum maps lying under those obsidian, faceted paperweights. I drank in the richness of carved woods and neatly rolled parchments. The wall’s brilliant spotlights illuminated the room. Cold stones beneath my feet radiated a chill into my skin, while the familiar scent of dusty surfaces and leather tomes filtered deep into my lungs, sealing the deal for my rapidly processing mind.

Very real.

I whirled around. Iain’s wall had spit me out from the other side, the molten stone surface and laser-point light show still vibrating in full force and effect.

In panic, I panted, quick bursts forcing air out through puffed cheeks. Information overload threatened my sanity once again. With forced concentration, I slowed my spinning thoughts enough to focus on comprehension rather than apprehension.

I peeked down. I remained very naked. Unwilling to make unconfirmed assumptions, I marched right back through the wall. Glittering mist enveloped me immediately. I spun around, seeing the darkness of the wall from the other side, apparently.

Memories of the places I’d visited on my otherworldly tour increased the density of the vapor, concealing the doorway. I concentrated on the castle, and the dark gateway reappeared, the haze dissipating.

Orion.

Skorpius.

As if the power of my mind conjured them, I saw their distant black-and-white winged forms through the mist as they walked away, their faint conversation drifting into my ears.

“. . . she bought it?” Orion asked.

“I’m betting all-in she didn’t,” Sunshine replied, sounding less gruff and more astute.

“Good. We wouldn’t want her to back down now.” Orion stopped, turning slightly.

Sunshine also stopped, cocking his head. “Funny, I’d thought for millennia The Traveler would’ve been bigger and . . . male.”

The midnight wings spread their full span in an instant. Black velvet brushed onto a shimmering canvas of white became the only thing visible.

I blinked, and they vanished. Undisturbed mist remained in their place. Orion’s fading voice whispered into my ears. “Have faith, Ms. MacInnes. All is exactly as it seems.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but not one thought filled my head to form any kind of response. My time on the not-a-dream-after-all plane had apparently concluded.

With nowhere else to go but back, I turned, bracing myself to avoid a collision with furniture, and stepped through the gateway. Both feet landed squarely on solid stone.

My gaze traveled slowly up from the floor as the sum total of revelations filled me with awe. Everything came to vibrant life around me—from the wall’s sparking energy to the silent maps hiding a fortune of information—as a clear epiphany broke my calm surface.

The box had been the first bread crumb, the wall another. Both led to a riled discussion with the yin–yang angel brothers who’d stacked my deck with more questions than answers.

Markers in my journey, every guidepost had simply showed me the way. I went down the path, choosing right or left at forks in the road, but the doorways did not define me. My actions every step of the way determined my course, revealing the person that existed inside.

Before I fully embraced who I’d become, the one I continued to discover daily within myself, I needed answers about the factors that had influenced my journey.

I needed the information Iain still withheld from me. I needed to know everything.

The wall hummed behind me with residual energy, powering down while my mind charged up. Sometime after my exhaustion-induced, post-reunion nap with Iain, I’d somehow made it down to Iain’s map room and entered into another plane . . . by pure intention. Or had I?

Although I couldn’t remember opening the wall for my angel meet-and-greet, the moment I wanted to return from the other side, mere thought had manifested a dark gateway inside the sparkling wonderland. Orion had said I’d left the portal wide open—he’d meant the wall.

I stood in the empty study, considering my stark nakedness, wondering how I’d arrived there in the middle of the day without attracting attention. Hell, maybe I hadn’t. Midday in the castle tended to be like Grand Central Station.

In spite of any potential scandal I might have already unknowingly caused, I closed my eyes, wishing my body back to the warmth of our bed with every ounce of mental intention my mind could muster. I cracked an eyelid open. Yeah. Nothing.

Streaking had to be the farthest thing from ladylike behavior, but since I couldn’t conjure up clothing, or a study-to-bedroom gateway, I had no viable alternative. I took a deep breath, preparing for round two of “Castle: Wild and Scandalous.”

With my peripheral vision blocked into an ignorance-is-bliss mode, I burst through the door, strode down the dark hall, and raced up the great hall steps two at a time. If anyone happened to notice what I’m sure would pop open even the sleepiest eye, not peep had been wisely made.

Our bedchamber door, the second one on the right, stood open a few inches. Iain would never have done such a thing, lending weight to the whole you-bared-while-unaware theory. I pushed the heavy door open far enough for me to squeeze through the space, a loud creak alarming out from the dry hinge. How I’d not tripped the medieval security system the first time, I had no idea.

Iain shot upright, jumping out of bed, eyes zeroing in on me. A gravelly voice croaked from his throat. “What’s goin’ on? Where’ve you been?”

I laughed. “Apparently, I walk in my sleep. Into. Other. Dimensions. ”

Iain scowled, gears sticking in his sleep-blurred mind. “What?”

He tugged me into his warm embrace, pulling me under the cool sheets of our bed. His mumbled, incoherent words that followed had something to do with my lack of clothing again, my not listening, and his handling of some random village issue. I shrugged, nestling against him, turning on my side. He wrapped his body in every way possible around me as I gave the best explanation I could offer.

“I woke up in the mist surrounding the castle . . . above the castle .” I pointed to the ceiling. “That’s not all. I talked with two men. With wings. They looked like warriors, but I think . . .”

Even with all the unbelievable magick Iain accepted as everyday reality, I hesitated. The list of fantastical kept growing. The limits of reason continued to be tested. Iain gently rubbed my forearm, so I forged ahead, sharing with the only other person I could.

“They seemed like angels. Only one had black wings and seemed not at all heavenly. His twin brother had wings of pure white. They showed me things—astonishing eras where they’d gifted the box to other cultures. I’ve seen the dark angel twice in the past, with the Picts.”