Dreamer's Throne

By the time Garrett’s eyes opened in the morning, he was completely drained, and not even the energy of the Dreamer’s Throne could stave off the pain in his head. His temples pounded and every breath sent splinters of pain through his head and neck. His brain felt completely stuffed, almost like it was overheating from all of the times he had switched from one view to the other. Staring at his bloodshot eyes in the mirror, Garrett tried to muster up the energy to get dressed, but instead he just slumped down, face first, onto his dresser. Groaning as he hit his head, sending fresh waves of pain through his skull, Garrett closed his eyes and wished he could trade his head for someone else’s.

He had never experienced pain like this, as he had always been knocked out after using up all his energy. This time, however, the problem wasn’t energy, but the amount of pressure he had put his mind through. Each time he swapped his view with Observe the Dream, took control of Viper, or issued a command through the dream flowers, his mind had grown more fatigued, and by the end of the night, he felt like he was about to collapse. One of the things he had not considered was the strain of maintaining his connection to Viper from such a long range. While he had been able to do it, by the time that Viper passed under the city walls it had become a strain, and when he arrived at the dock in the swamp it had become a major burden. Still, he wanted to be present for the first meeting with the two merchants, and was glad he had been. They would have completely scalped Viper without Garrett along.

As it was, he had managed to sketch out a solid deal that would give the Klein Family a tidy profit on all the goods that the two merchant brothers sent into the city. It had turned out that they were twins who wore different facial hair so people could tell them apart. Ever cautious, Garrett had wanted to spread dream seeds to them, but when he started to, warning bells went off in his head and he decided to let it go. He wasn’t sure why his senses had started tingling, but thought that it was likely that they possessed some way to detect supernatural influence.

Figuring there would be other opportunities to infiltrate Port Reverie, he waited until they had gotten back onto their boat before disconnecting and trying to catch a bit of sleep. Unfortunately, the assassins had all been pulled out of the cages and transported to the basement of the inn where they were chained to the wall. Garrett was particularly interested in Patolov, and took a trip in the dream, through the inn and down into the basement, to take a look at him. That had proven to be the straw that broke the camel’s back and Garrett had woken up looking, and feeling, like death warmed over.

A rapid knock on the door announced Ryn’s presence half a second before she slammed the door open and strode into the room, positively glowing.

“Garrett! I’m back! Did you miss me? Oh, jeez, you look awful. Are you alive?”

Weakly waving his hand to ward away the finger poking his cheek, he stared at Ryn through bleary eyes.

“I feel terrible. I’m going back to bed. Don’t wake me up until dinner.”

Trying to push his wheelchair back toward his bed, Garrett failed to turn it so Ryn took hold of the handles and pushed him over, even picking him up and putting him in bed. Pulling up the covers, she grinned down at him, a bright twinkle in her eyes. Seeing his eyes droop, she patted his head and snuck out of the room. Just before she closed the door, she heard him sigh and turn over.

“Ryn?”

“Yes?”

“Welcome back.”

“Thanks!”

Mercifully, sleep came quickly, and it was deep and dreamless. Garrett’s body, starved for rest, soaked it up, and when he finally woke, the sun was starting to sink over the western wall, casting long shadows across the city. For a moment, Garrett just lay in bed, relishing the clarity his mind felt. It had been a long time since he had gotten any actual sleep, and taking a day off had given him much needed rest. While his awakened mind and body were astronomically tough compared to most people, they were not truly limitless, and Garrett’s habit of burning the candle at both ends had finally caught up with him.

A pile of food on the table by his bed alerted him that someone had come in to check on him and he was suddenly ravenous. It didn’t take him long to completely clean the plates, and he was just stacking them up neatly when the sun finally set and the dream opened. Placing down his knife and fork, he sat back in his bed and smiled, speaking into the empty air.

“Time to get back to it.”

The first thing he did after entering the dream was scan all his connections to the flowers spread out in the city. This had become a practice that he didn’t intend to ever skip again, as he felt that he should have realized that something had happened to Ryn earlier. Once he had determined that everything was as it should be, he reviewed the actions he needed to take. The awakened dreamers had performed very well in the tunnels, and tonight they were already back to hunting nightmares in the dream while the others were staying in the inn, guarding the assassins that had been captured. Sending a message in the dream, Garrett re-entered the waking world and a minute later, Obe knocked on the door, with Ryn right behind him.

“How are you doing, boss? Feeling better?”

“Wow, you really look a lot better,” Ryn said, peeking at Garrett over Obe’s shoulder.

“Thank you both. I feel much better. I’m wondering if you could tell me about what happened last night? Obe, why don’t you start?”

“Not much to tell from my end,” Obe said, scratching his head. “I held down the fort here, maintaining a public presence by patrolling with a group of our veterans. About three in the morning everyone came back, dragging five of those Black Raven killers you told us about. I took a shift watching them, and then got a bit of sleep this morning.”

“Any sign of the Grave Walkers or any other gangs?”

“We saw some of the Walkers skulking around but they stayed mostly clear of our territory. No other gangs of note. Well, there have been a couple of the Janice boys poking around near the docks, asking if any of them are available for rent. The dock master told them that they’re all ours.”

“I see. Thank you. Ryn, what about you?”

Shoving past Obe, Ryn crossed her arms and grinned.

“That’s what I wanted to tell you this morning! I was kidnapped by those swamp rats and they left me to rot in a cell for multiple days without food. I was hungry enough to eat my own nose, but they didn’t realize that I was awakened, so it wasn’t so bad. Anyway, they dragged me through the sewers, and when we finally got to Viper, he made everyone get in those carts and then off we went. It was loud and bumpy and boring, but when we finally stopped, the other two carts were empty and then the gang all showed up and beat the tar out of Patolov and his goons.

“Then, we had to get in the carts again, and we came back, but this time, there were more people to talk to so it wasn’t so bad. We offloaded and then brought the assassins back here. Viper made it a point to say that you wanted them alive, otherwise I would have voted for kicking them off the carts half way through the tunnels. I’m not as smart as you, but I can’t think of any good reason to keep them alive. Anyway, as I was saying, we brought them back and then I went to bed after eating a huge meal. I think that’s about it.”

Processing what each of them had said, Garrett nodded.

“Thank you. I would like to see Patolov. Is there a way I can see him in an isolated environment?”

“Yeah, there are a couple rooms down there. We can dump him in one and you can talk to him there.”

“Good. Also, we need a reliable way to knock the assassins out. Do we have anything we can use?”

This time, Obe thought for a moment before nodding slowly.

“Yeah, I think I can come up with something.”

“No blunt force trauma or strangling, please. I need them to be asleep, not concussed or brain dead.”

“Oh, then I’m not sure,” Obe said, shrugging.

“We should be able to find some distilled keve grass at a chemist,” Ryn said, “and if we mix it with two parts water and three parts alcohol, we’ll have a potent knockout drug.”

“Can you manage that?”

“Sure. Though, I don’t know if there is a chemist still open at this time of night.”

“Corner of Brax and Redfin,” Garrett said, closing his eyes for a moment. “Fenternitx’s Reliable Chemists is still open.”

“Oh, that’s only three blocks away,” Ryn said happily. “I’ll be right back.”

After Ryn left for the chemist, Garrett got dressed and then Obe helped him get down the basement stairs, taking him to a small store room that was currently empty. To set the scene better, Garrett had Obe bring in a table and a single chair, along with a simple candle. Garrett opened up one of his notebooks to an empty page, got out his quill and ink, placed his white mask on his face, and asked Obe to bring Patolov in. The assassin was considerably bruised and bloody, looking awful after being chained up for almost twenty-four hours, but his gaze was as fierce as ever, promising to give nothing up.

Garrett didn’t find it odd that his prisoner would be so defiant; after all, they had managed to overpower the leader of the Black Raven’s Second Wing. If he had been easy to break, he never would have made it to his position. In trying to think about how to crack open the mouths of the assassins, Garrett had briefly considered torture, but from what Ryn had mentioned, their training was already brutal enough that it probably qualified as such, and if he was being honest, the thought of torture just made him tired.

Instead, he decided to take the path of least resistance. While he had offered the Howlers the choice to either serve or die, these men and women wouldn’t get the chance. Either way, their deaths were guaranteed, so he thought it best to get as much use out of them as possible. Using the knockout drug that Ryn was concocting, he would be able to bring them into the dream, and from that point it was simply a matter of time until they joined his family. Patolov, however, was an exception.

“You are Patolov, First Claw of the Second Wing of the Black Raven?” Garrett asked, his voice husky behind his mask. “You can simply nod or shake your head.”

He got nothing but a glare in response, but he had expected that.

“Some months back, you and your compatriots snuck into this city, with the help of the merchant network, and infiltrated the palace with the help of some of the city’s nobles, including Count Somen, and the city guard under them. Working with those nobles, you managed to get into a private party being held in honor of Prince Everan’s ascension to the position of crown prince. You attacked right when the king and queen arrived, killing both monarchs, wounding the prince, and attempting to hunt down him and his younger sister who had been able to flee toward the north gate. Does this sound familiar?”

For the first time, the assassin’s fierce mien broke, and uncertainty flashed through his eyes. He didn’t know much about the Klein Family, but Garrett was reciting information that shouldn’t have been known by anyone outside of his team and the nobles who had betrayed Insomnium’s royal family. Sensing an opening, Garrett pressed slightly.

“Furthermore, the mission went wrong. A group of young nobles, including the prince himself, stood their ground on one of the bridges, blocking you until the princess was clear of the city. You killed them all, but you lost the princess, muddying the situation. That infuriated your backer, who issued a bounty for you, locking down the city so that he could catch you and kill you publicly as scapegoats.”

Eyes wide, Patolov tried to say something, but the gag in his mouth made it impossible. Seeing him shaking his head, Garrett chuckled and moved his wheelchair around the table to get closer to him.

“I won’t remove the gag, as I really have no desire to hear you speak. Instead, I would like you to listen. I’ve thought a lot about my situation over the past months, and how I should feel. After all, your wicked action has cost me much. But while it has given me the life I now have, I am ultimately responsible for making the best of it.”

Reaching up, Garrett removed his white mask, showing his face to Patolov, who suddenly paled, staring at Garrett in shock.

“That’s right. When your sword took my arm, when it stabbed through my spine, and when you kicked me from the bridge so you could get to Prince Everan, I doubt this situation ever crossed your mind. But here we are, and we have to make the best of it. Do not worry, this is not the end of your life. Rather, you might say that your life has just begun. All your training, all your suffering, all your blood and sweat and tears? None of it will be wasted. Your life will be full and grand, spent in service. To me.”

Placing the mask back on his face, Garrett waved his hand and Obe came in, grabbing the shaking assassin’s foot and dragging him out of the room. Once he had been thrown back with the others, Garrett wheeled himself to the bottom of the basement stairs and looked at them sighing.

All the power one could want at my fingertips and still, I’m defeated by a set of stairs. I should have Obe add a ramp.

“What’s the matter boss? How did your questioning go?”

“Oh, it was fine. I wasn’t questioning him, though. Just planting a knife in his heart.”

“Knife? You stabbed him?”

“Not a real knife,” Garrett said, rubbing his head. “Come on, let’s see how Ryn is coming with that knockout agent. We have a lot of appointments to keep tonight.”