Avalon 1.3 The Way of Dreams part 3 of 3

August 27, 2025July 27, 2025M G Kizzia Leave a comment

In the wee hours of the morning, Lockhart woke up in the nursing home, still sitting in his wheelchair. The nurses had not even bothered to put him to bed. He wiped the bit of drool that fell from his mouth and looked out the window at the night sky. It looked the same as it looked in his dream. He let out one small laugh before he felt like crying. Being young again and adventuring in time was a nice dream, but only a dream.

Lockhart tried to push himself closer to the window, but his old arms were too spindly and frail. He did cry a little because he felt so alone. He lived in Virginia and his children were all in Michigan. They never came to see him in any case. His ex-wife saw to that. She lived in a retirement community in Florida where she spent the last of his money. Even the people from the office never came by, not even Boston. He was alone. He wanted to die.

~~~*~~~

“I didn’t ask to be young again,” Lincoln yelled and did that annoying thing of raising his hands like he was oh, so innocent. “I was happy like we were.”

“I wasn’t,” Alexis responded with that inevitable curl of her lip.

“Okay. I got that impression. But I was comfortable.”

“God knows I wouldn’t want to shake you out of your comfort zone.”

“Alexis.” Lincoln reached out but Alexis pulled away.

“Don’t touch me,” she said. “Right now, I hate you.” She never pulled her punches and never said she was sorry.

“I despise you.” He always had to one-up her.

~~~*~~~

Boston closed the door to the conference room. She got to the heart of the building, but there was no way out for her. The alien virus had gotten loose. It affected the minds of every male on duty and Boston felt scared senseless. She feared they would find her. She heard the door.

“Boston.” The call sounded sweet and sickly.

Boston scooted under the table and heard the men come in. They were all men, she knew, young and old.

“Boston.

She tried to make herself small.

“Here.” One of the young ones got behind her and leaned over to look under the table. She got caught. She tried to run, but they stopped her. They tore her clothes off. She was going to be gang raped. The infected men laughed about it, but she screamed.

~~~*~~~

Captain Decker’s hands were tied behind his back. His ankles were tied together, and he found himself suspended upside-down from one of the towers of the Brooklyn Bridge. Lieutenant Harper slowly started cutting the man’s rope.

“What are you doing?” The panic filled in Decker’s voice. He was not the best with heights, though he went through parachute training when he qualified for Special Forces.

“I can’t help it,” Harper called down to him. “I have no control over my hands.” Her voice sounded just as fearful. She saw him suspended from the edge of a cliff. Every time she cut a strand he dropped a little. She was going to murder the man and she couldn’t stop herself. “Help me, please.” She cried out, but she had no control. Everything ran out of her control except her tears.

Decker screamed at her. “Let me up. I’m going to kill you. Let me up.” He looked down and had to hold onto his stomach and his bladder.

~~~*~~~

Doctor Procter came awake, but he felt groggy. Something tugged at his mind, and for a change, it was not the darkness. He imagined all sorts of frightening scenarios, but they all paled when compared to the darkness so they could find no foothold in his dreams. He squinted.

Mingus and his son sat side by side, staring off into the wilderness. Doctor Procter could not tell from his angle, but he guessed they were frozen in place, seeing nothing. A figure stood beside them. It appeared human shaped, but the Doctor guessed it was not human because it looked dark from head to foot, despite standing squarely in the firelight.

He heard noises behind. Doctor Procter sat up a little and turned his head to look. The humans wailed, cried, shouted nonsense at each other and appeared to be in pain. He checked. He did not care about that. He did not hate the humans, but somehow, he could not bring himself to care about them either. He blamed the darkness. He knew. Soon it would overtake him completely.

He turned again to observe the person hiding in the night. He guessed it was the bogyman. He heard they hid in closets and under beds to work their terrible work. They hid because they had to be solid to work and feed on the trauma. That, of course, made them vulnerable, but as long as the sleepers remained unaware of their presence, they could feast.

Doctor Procter thought about that. He lived, no stranger to fear, but he never felt attracted to it before. He used to fear things like bogies. Now, he felt he understood a little. Fear, hate, and anguish were very powerful emotions and very nourishing in a way. “No.” He whispered that out loud through cracked lips and with a gravelly voice. The bogy ignored him. Things were coming to a head.

Doctor Procter turned his head again to watch. He saw Captain Decker and Lieutenant Harper grab their rifles. Lockhart also grabbed his shotgun. Boston screamed, “Kill me, kill me!” Lincoln and Alexis had each other by the throat. The humans were all going to kill each other, and something of the Doctor rose-up.

“No!” The Doctor shouted. He tore off his glove and extended his blackened hand out toward the bogy. The bogy lost all concentration, and a sound of fear escaped its own lips.

Doctor Procter reached out with his hand. His feet would not move, but the darkness began to move from his hand all on its own. Doctor Procter knew it would not leave him, but the darkness would gladly absorb another if given the chance. He looked at his own arm. The darkness had swallowed his hand and climbed all the way passed his elbow to disappear beneath his sleeve. Doctor Procter did not want to look closer.

The bogyman’s eyes appeared in the dark. They were wide and full of a fear far greater than even the fear it instilled in some humans that drove those humans insane. It might have escaped if it returned to its insubstantial, spiritual nature, but for the moment, it stood frozen by its fear. That was all the time Lockhart needed.

The shotgun blast hit the bogy dead center, and the marines were not far behind. They each shot several bullets into the figure. The man in the dark collapsed while Doctor Procter quickly stuffed his hand back into his glove. Roland shook himself awake at that point and with hardly a thought, he pulled his sword and chopped the bogy head off. Curiously, there was no blood, just the stump of a neck where the head had once been. The head rolled into the rocks. Roland began to hack the limbs apart and Mingus joined him in tossing those limbs out into the bushes below as far apart from each other as possible.

“A bogy can heal and reconstitute,” Mingus said. Lockhart and Captain Decker stepped up to help but Mingus waved them off. “Don’t touch. Bogys are powerful spirits. Being spiritual creatures ourselves offers us some protection. For you humans, though, I’m afraid even a touch might give you nightmares for the rest of your lives.” Given the nightmares already experienced that night, Lockhart and Decker needed no more inducement to back away.

After the deed was done, Mingus and Roland washed themselves with water and dirt in a ritual washing. Then they sat down and while Mingus built up the fire, the others gathered around. No surprise that no one felt like sleeping.

“You see,” Mingus continued his thought. “The bogy man is now broken to pieces and scattered more than far enough away to prevent a rebuilding of the body before sunrise. Once the sun is up, the light will burn away the body remains. Otherwise, if the bogy rebuilt itself, we would have to fight this battle all over again tomorrow night.”

“I see,” Lieutenant Harper said, and once she said that no one felt like talking for a long time. Boston stayed in tears or sniffled most of that time, and she would not let anyone hold her to comfort her. She did not want anyone to touch her. Captain Decker and Lieutenant Harper simply looked at each other and looked away again and again. Lockhart got lost in his own thoughts, and while Lincoln and Alexis sat beside each other, they did not touch or comfort each other or even hold hands, as was their norm. Only Doctor Procter seemed unconcerned with it all, and he began to snore.

When the sun started to rise, the words finally came. It is remarkable how a little sunlight and talking about it can make the shadows of the worst nightmares fade, and these were the worst. They were the kind that clung to the mind even after waking up. Still, it did not take long for everyone to start feeling better, and even Boston cracked a smile. Then they heard the scream, the kind some call blood curdling.

It took a minute to find the head of the bogy. It got trapped between two rocks on the edge of the ledge and the sunlight touched it. The head steamed and screamed, and the eyes opened and looked around. Fortunately, it did not last long as it caught on fire and soon became little more than steam, ash, and dust to be blown away on the wind.

Alexis covered her eyes. She did not want to look. Boston got right up to the edge and stared straight into that face until the end. Then Alexis spoke.

“We have to find a better way of dealing with these things other than shooting them full of holes.”

“You realize, now that you said that, in the next time zone we will probably need the guns more than ever,” Lockhart teased.

Alexis wrinkled her nose in disapproval of Lockhart’s words. She looked at Lincoln, but he seemed busy getting their things together. She felt a brief stab in her heart as she remembered the nightmare once more. Things were not right between them, yet.

************************

Monday

Back to our normal 2 weeks per episode. Avalon 1.4 Sticks and Stones will see trouble fall from the sky, and some bones will be broken. Until then, Happy Reading.

Elect II—1 Summer Fun, part 1 of 3

October 3, 2016September 30, 2016M G Kizzia Leave a comment

The phone rang.

Emily’s younger brother, Tyler was hiding in the basement. Dad was outside cutting the grass because Tyler was hiding in the basement. Mom was outside talking to the neighbor to avoid any serious work in the garden. All was right with the world, Emily thought. She could get a short nap if the phone would just stop ringing. She had not been sleeping well. Too many nightmares about Pierce.

The phone rang.

She loved Pierce, as much as she ever loved anyone. She did not care if he was a genetically engineered super soldier, or what. She loved him and he loved her, and that was enough. Life was good, but then he got activated. He was ordered to kill every student at New Jersey State University. She died when she killed him. It felt like stabbing a knife into her own heart.

The phone rang.

Emily did not want to be one of the elect anymore. She did not want to be one in a million. She did not want to be the woman warrior, empowered to defend home and community. Whoever came up with that idea could stuff it. Lisa said she was as strong as any man with an uncanny ability to fight with or without weapons. She was hard to injure, quick to heal, coordinated, agile, graceful… Emily just wanted to be Emily, not some freakish superhero.

The phone rang.

Okay, back at New Jersey State in Trenton, Detective Lisa and Latasha, a high school sophomore, were also elect. That made three women warriors in one little city. The odds against that were astronomical, but at least for Emily it was nice not being the only one in town. At that moment, what felt more important was she would not feel too guilty about abandoning the city if she decided not to go back to school.

The phone rang.

How could she go back? She would see Pierce everywhere she looked. That was what her dreams were telling her. That was what her nightmares were vividly pointing out. Stay home. There are good nursing schools in Ohio. But, “Damn it!” She promised Pierce she would go back and finish at New Jersey State. She promised that right before she killed him.

The phone rang and someone had the nerve to pick it up.

“Emily!” It was Mom. Emily tumbled off the couch and walked grumpily to the kitchen. “I think it is one of your friends from college.” Mom smiled and held out the phone.

Emily nodded. “Hello?”

“Emily! Are you all right? I have been worried sick about you.” It was Amina, her own personal Sybil.

“You’re the seer,” Emily had no patience at the moment. “You’re the one who sees things no one else can see. You tell me.”

“The dreams. You have been having terrible nightmares.”

Emily sighed. She had not told anyone about her dreams. The girl could truly see things. Amina was a bit of a freak herself. “Yes, I’ve been having dreams, but I think it is just my subconscious trying to talk some sense into me.”

“No, you must not listen. It isn’t you dreaming.”

Emily paused before she asked, “What do you mean?”

“You are being attacked. I have discussed it with Mindy. She is looking for possible causes, what it might be that is attacking you.”

Emily swallowed. “Attacked?” If that was true, her attacker knew just where she was weak and vulnerable. It was preying on her guilt and broken heart over Pierce and telling her not to go back to school in Trenton.

“We are coming. We will all be there on Saturday. Melissa is finishing her summer classes and working on a spell of protection. Jessica is anxious to find what it is and is harping on poor Mindy to identify it. Maria will meet them at Newark airport. She says she has been researching in her pharmacology books and may have something to help you sleep without remembering your dreams.

“And you?”

“Mindy will come up from Colombia, and I will come down from Chicago.”

“Your father is letting you go? I thought he was going to keep you under lock and key until you were twenty-one and married.” Amina was born in Chicago, but her family was from Morocco and strict beyond reason.

There was a pause this time on the other end before Amina spoke. “My family knows I have the gift. I told them it was a matter of life and death.”

“And is it? A matter of life and death, I mean.”

This time the pause stretched out into an uncomfortable silence and Emily felt the chills of that silence in the back of her neck. “I told my father I am going to go on a date this year,” Amina said. “Meanwhile, we will all be there Saturday. Please tell your mother not to make a fuss.”

“That will be like telling water not to be wet.”

“Try to rest, only don’t listen to your dreams, my queen.”

Amina hung up, and Emily griped. Being elect made her some kind of Amazon queen to these women. That was why at times they referred to Amina as the Sybil—the seer—and Amina referred to Emily as her queen. Emily shook her head. Despite the terribly prejudiced point of view, Emily’s picture of an Amazon was some big, weight-lifting, man hating woman with a moustache. She could not help thinking that way, and that was so not her. She went back to her couch.

“Oh, honey. Don’t you have to go to work today?” Emily’s mother began to dust around her.

“No,” Emily said. “A day without French fries is like a day with sunshine. By the way, Jessica, Melissa, Maria, Mindy and Amina are all coming here for a visit. They will be here Saturday, and Amina said don’t make a fuss.”

Emily’s mother quickly calculated and looked at the clock on the mantle. “I just have time to get some new bedding.” She whipped off her gardening hat as she walked briskly to the basement door. She shouted down the stairs. “Tyler, as long as you are down there, pull out the bed from the convertible.”

Emily heard Tyler shout back. “Is Aunt Matilda and the freak parade coming?” Mother shut the door without answering. She picked up her purse, paused by the mirror in the front hall and left. Emily lay back on the couch and thought, at last! Now she could get that nap, only now she could not get her eyes to close. The dreams were bad enough when she thought they were her own, but the idea that someone or something was getting into her head and attacking her in her sleep made the chill return to the back of her neck. The worst part of it was, given all she had seen and been through last year—her freshman year at New Jersey State, she did not doubt for one second that such a thing was possible. Heck, if Amina said it, it was a virtual certainty, in which case she imagined she might never sleep again.

###

Dad had to go into work Saturday morning. The overtime was good, but that meant he could not pick up the girls. Mom was too busy making beds, putting out flowers and checking the cookie supply to drive. Emily was going to have to do it herself, but even as she got in the car, her manager called.

“I know you need the week off for police work. You know me, cooperating with the police is my first choice, but I need you. Can you come in for the morning shift? Paul and Debbie both called out, but Alesandra will be in at two. Please?”

What could Emily do? As tired as she was, she needed the money. Besides, she was not too sure about navigating the airport traffic lanes in her current condition. Flipping burgers or running a register designed for idiots should not be a problem. She called officer Marion. The woman was instrumental in setting up department seven in the Columbus police force to help her stop an outbreak of vampires last Christmas. At times, she felt like Emily’s own shadow, and Emily thought it was only fair to give the woman something to do.

###

Jessica was the first one off the plane from Newark, and not surprised to find a police officer waiting for them. The woman looked about Detective Lisa’s age, around thirty-five or so.

“Where is Emily?” Maria asked. They had a half-hour wait for Amina to arrive from Chicago.

“Called in to work,” Mindy answered. She had gotten there an hour earlier and spent most of that time sipping her latte, going in and out of the bathroom, fiddling with her long red hair and not talking. She heard about the vampires, but offered little in return.

“Gee, Detective Lisa never offered us a ride in a police van,” Jessica said.

“I talked to your detective friend,” Marion said. “She seemed to think if you are all gathering here, there must be something going on.”

“She is a detective.” Jessica shrugged it off. “Naturally suspicious.”

“So am I.” Marion treated them to coffee and tea and then made them sit in a quiet corner. “As I explained to Mindy, Captain Parker set up department seven last Christmas to help Emily and Anna Lee with the vampires.”

“Anna Lee?” Melissa looked at her friends.

“Elect from New York City,” Maria explained quietly and Melissa nodded.

“Now, whenever Emily is in town, my job is to keep an eye on her.” Marion hardly took a breath. “I heard some of what you did at school last year. I am sure you can still probably surprise me about things that a year ago I would have said are not real and you are mad, but I need to know what is going on or I won’t be of any use. Besides, Lieutenant Anthony does not like surprises, so talk.” The women looked at each other, but said nothing.

“Which one of you is in charge when Emily is not around?” Marion tried again.

Melissa and Mindy spoke together. “Jessica.” But Jessica spoke otherwise.

“Maria.”

Maria shook her head. “I am going to be a doctor. The doctor is never in charge.” She turned to Officer Marion. “Jessica,” she said, emphatically.

“I don’t want to be in charge,” Jessica protested.

“That is just what Emily says,” Maria responded.

“Hey!” Marion regained their attention. “So Jessica, what is going on.” Jessica just looked at Mindy who nodded to the look and finally opened up.

“I’ve narrowed it down to either ghouls or a bogyman. According to my reading, though, it seems to me ghouls affect the vision and daydreams more than regular dreams. Bogymen are the ones who turn night dreams into nightmares.”

“A boogyman?” Marion had to ask.

“Bogyman. Like Nightmare on Elm Street if you ever saw that movie,” Mindy responded. From the look on Marion’s face it appeared she had seen the movie. “Emily is having bad dreams,” Mindy offered.

Marion took a deep breath and her imagination almost took over. She thought it wise to turn to Maria and change the subject. “So you are going to medical school?”

“I haven’t applied yet. I’m only a sophomore. We all are, but that is the plan.” Maria sipped her coffee.

“And you are in charge when Emily is absent?”

“Apparently,” Jessica said with a frown. “And despite the fact that I am the blonde one.”

“You are going into ROTC with Emily,” Maria pointed out. “You are going to be an officer. And besides, you are the business major,” as if that had anything to do with it.

“Antiquities,” Mindy interrupted and offered her own major. “The research information in Columbia is slim, but did you know New Jersey State has one of the biggest collections of old books, parchments, scrolls including papyrus and fragments in North America. There are clay tablets at the school from Byblos, Nineveh, Babylon, and dating all the way back to Sumeria. It is all such fascinating stuff. Professor Papadopoulos—.”

“I am sure it is fascinating,” Jessica interrupted and Mindy quieted.

“And what about you?” Officer Marion turned to Melissa who had said only that one peep to Maria about the Chinese woman from New York. “What is your part in all of this?”

Melissa spoke quietly and in a very shy and unassuming manner. “I’m the witch.”

Marion widened her eyes for a second before she appeared to shrug with those eyes. “Did you think maybe a witch is giving Emily the nightmares?”

Jessica shook her head. “Amina said whatever it is, it isn’t human.”

“Amina?”

“The one we are waiting for,” Maria spoke up.

“Our seer,” Jessica said.

“Our Sybil,” Mindy said.

“Sybil?”

“Amazon term,” Mindy explained. “Amina says we are Emily’s Amazon tribe since she is…special.” Jessica stared at her again.

“We think of it more like a club,” Maria said. “You could be like an affiliate member.”

“Amazons,” Marion mused as the announcement blared over the speakers that Amina’s plane was at the gate. Marion wanted to see this so-called seer, and while she waited she changed her mind. Life still had plenty of stuff that could surprise her.

Amina had short cropped hair that cupped her face nicely and set off her deep set dark eyes. Her hair was black, like Emily, but her skin looked extremely well-tanned, like she spent every day in the tanning salon. When she got close and began to hug each girl in turn, Marion realized that this was the girl’s natural skin color.

Amina hugged Marion too, though they had never met, and she spoke. “My family came here from Morocco. I am glad the others explained things to you. That saves me a lot of trouble.”

Marion turned to Jessica as they left the airport. “Your seer?”

“Sybil,” Jessica nodded. “It’s her job.”

The Elect 18, part 2 of 4: Spring Break

March 15, 2016March 14, 2016M G Kizzia Leave a comment

Marion picked up Emily when she arrived, and Emily was not surprised. Dad likely had to work. David was deployed again. Mom hated the airport and Tyler could not drive yet, thank God.

“So how is school?” The policewoman got that much out before Emily unloaded. She told her everything about Abby and how frightening it was. She told her about Heinrich, and probably said too much, but she could not help it. She had to unload this stuff because the stress of it all was getting to her. She told her about Latasha’s encounter and the message that there were other such things out there, somewhere, lurking in the dark.

Marion never interrupted. She smiled the whole way, and when they arrived at Emily’s house, Marion only said two things. “Feel better?” Emily nodded. “I won’t be far.” She left after Emily carried her bags inside.

Emily gave her mother a cursory hug, threw Tyler out of her room and slept the rest of the day and all through the night. She dreamt about Pierce, but they were not pleasant, loving dreams. They were full of creatures, zombies, vampires, monstrous men and women. She saw Granger once acting like Abby, drawing people into her spider’s web. Mostly her friends all turned their backs on her. Lisa said she was nothing special, that she just used her to get at the campus mystery and solve the murders. Her friends got a suite, but it was only for four people. Jessica and Maria roomed together while Amina roomed with Mindy and that left Emily on the outside, in a regular dorm with Gloria Sanchez. Even Latasha laughed at her and told her what a dupe she had been. And Pierce died. And since she was nothing special, she could not keep him from dying. And then a mysterious Abby-like witch forced her hand so she stabbed Pierce and killed him. And she had no power to stop herself. Pierce kept dying in her dreams until she woke up at five in the morning in a sweat.

The shower helped, but her mother felt her forehead and took her to the doctor. Some kind of flu, he said to her. He said something else in private to her mother while the nurse took some blood. He sent her home with some antibiotics and with something to help her rest. And Emily tried. She really tried.

###

The nightmares came again on the second night, or Emily assumed they did. She did not remember them, exactly, but she woke up tense everywhere, like she had been fighting a great battle all night long. She had a definite fever now and even the shower did not help. Then she saw a couple of breakouts and wondered as her mother came into her room.

“That was the doctor. You need to stay in bed.”

“Why? What is it?”

“Chicken pox.” Her mother opened the curtain to let in the sun.

“Chicken pox!” Tyler yelled outside her open door. He made his fingers into a cross, which he pointed at her as he walked by the opening and rushed down the stairs.

Emily plopped back on her bed. “Chicken pox.”

“The doctor said you should be fine in a couple of weeks, as soon as the breakouts are gone.”

“A couple of weeks? But I only have a week and have to get back to school,” Emily protested. Her mother made no response. She simply closed the door on her way out. Emily thought at least she could get caught up on her schoolwork. She looked at her Earth Science book, said, “Maynard is a moron,” and picked up her phone to call Jessica.

###

That night her fever got high enough to worry her mother. They were saying things about how it was harder in older people and they were talking hospital. She had breakouts everywhere by then, and she had her hands in gloves to keep herself from scratching, not that it stopped her. She slept in fits, and not the least because her nightmares intensified. She tossed and turned until her phone rang and she woke up suddenly. She caught some movement in the corner of her eye. She turned her head and caught a bit of gray smoke that looked to be seeping into her closet. But no, it was hard to tell in the dark of night and with the fever. She shook her head and answered her phone.

“Emily?” It was Amina.

“What is it?” She looked at her clock. “It’s three in the morning.”

“Two here, in Chicago.” Amina said and paused. Emily had to prompt her.

“Well?”

“Your fever,” Amina spouted. “That is not all. There is something else with the fever. I do not know what. It is a nightmare maker thing. A thing in the dark. I do not know what. I called Mindy and she is looking things up.”

“How would Mindy know?”

“Oh, Mindy knows about all sorts of thing. But I called Detective Lisa too, so she could ask Latasha to ask her friend, Ms Riley. I do not know what.”

Emily’s eyes got big. She remembered her own words about things lurking in the dark and sat up and turned on her light. “Thanks. Thank you. I’ll be careful.”

“My queen,” Amina said and Emily could picture the girl lower her eyes as she hung up. She thought, great! Now she would not sleep at all, and she stole another glance at her closet.

Emily closed her eyes, but only briefly and only a few times before the sun finally came up. She passed out when the sunlight touched her window. Her fever needed the rest. Mother came in the early morning, opened the curtains, turned out the light, touched Emily’s forehead, clicked her tongue a few times and left.

Emily slept most of the day. The better, she thought, to stay awake all night. The few times she woke up, however, she found her muscles just as tight and her stress just as bad as when she slept in the night. She saw no smoky images in the daylight, but she began to think it might be under her bed, waiting. She made Tyler come in and check. He came with his hand over his mouth and nose in imitation of a surgical mask, but he checked carefully. No smoke in the closet or under the bed, but her mother worried that the fever had Emily delirious.

###

By six that evening, just after Mama brought Emily her tray of chicken soup and juice, and Emily did her best to behave normally, the fever spiked. It reached dangerous levels and Emily indeed became delirious. That was when she found a woman sitting at the foot of her bed. Emily studied her for a minute and the woman said nothing, being content to study Emily in return.

This woman was what Emily imagined a warrior woman should look like. She had on a suit of leather—a skirt covered in fine chain mail, with leather boots that came to the knees and fingerless, leather gloves that went up to the elbows. More than that, the woman had a sword slanted across her back and a short sword, or more nearly a long knife, across the small of her back. She had to be five-eight, almost Jessica height, with long light brown hair and eyes that were sharp green. The woman even had the rugged look Emily imagined a warrior woman ought to have, but that did not stop the woman from being beautiful. She was breathtaking.

“It is a mystery,” the woman said at last. It was a voice as beautiful as the woman herself.

“What?” Emily sounded like a frog in her own ears.

“You have a pox your elect immune system should not allow you to have, and a fever that worsens. This is unnatural, as the hunter might say.” Tyler came to the open door and gasped. The woman waved her hand and the door closed by itself. Emily was not sure what else happened as the woman continued to speak.

“You are being haunted by a fever spirit. They benefit the body by feeding off the fever and thus keeping it from getting too high, I am told. But like most things in life, they are a mixed blessing. In the process, while one is asleep, the spirit roots around in the dark corners of the mind. That is why people have fever dreams, and so many of them are nightmares. The thing is, this spirit has gotten tied to you, somehow, and is interfering with your immune system so instead of getting better, your fever is getting worse.”

“I can tell,” Emily said softly. She honestly wondered if she had ever been so sick in her life.

“Don’t do that,” the woman said, kindly. Emily stopped scratching, clenched her teeth and made her gloved hands into fists. “Come here,” the woman said to the closet, and Emily’s eyes got big as she saw a smoke-like ghost with a strange little face come to the woman. She reached out one hand as if to pet it as she spoke. “You are untied now. This one is finished. Down the street, now. Someone needs you.”

Emily watched as the puff of smoke went through her window and vanished into the evening. “But the nightmares,” she wanted to protest.

“Children bounce back from nightmares. Some people need to see what is in their dark corners. Some people deserve nightmares.” The woman shrugged. “It is not our place to decide such things, but it is my place to look after my queen.” She touched Emily on the forehead and Emily relaxed for the first time in days. “How this fever spirit became attached to you I cannot say. It is a mystery. I must think on this.” The woman stood, and vanished, and Emily imagined it was just another fever dream, but all the same, she responded.

“What do you mean, your queen? I’m no queen.”

Tyler burst into the room. Mother came on his heels. Tyler looked all around, but found no woman in armor. Mother admonished Emily to eat her soup and left. After he checked the closet once more, Tyler said nothing because Emily was already asleep, the fever already gone.

Emily’s breakouts took another two days to clear up, but she was feeling better and all well in time to return to school. She scolded herself for not getting more schoolwork done when she had the chance, but she congratulated herself for getting some done, even if Maynard was a moron.