Wakeworld by Kerry Schafer Page B

penguin dissolved an instant later, but Gareth the Chancellor remained, all too solid, all too real.
    Jared was puking again. This time Zee really didn’t blame him. At least with his own dead alter ego out of the way he was able to pull himself together enough to fight if necessary.
    The Chancellor looked them all over with a condescending stare. “Well, this is interesting.”
    “I hoped to find you here,” Vivian said. “I had no idea whether it would work—whether Jared’s vision of this place would summon you.”
    “That’s his name? Jared? What is wrong with him?”
    “Seeing you, I suspect. Being hit with memories of all of the things you have done.”
    “Why don’t I have memories of the things he has done?”
    “You do. Think of your dreams, Gareth.”
    The man’s face altered.
    Vivian seemed taller. The pattern of scales on her skin had deepened and darkened. Zee could feel waves of heat wafting off her. His nostrils caught a hint of hot, clean stone. Dragon. His heart beat the word with rage and hate. But this was Vivian, who hadn’t asked to be Dragon, or even Dreamshifter. He couldn’t stand by and watch what would follow if she changed; time after time he had seen it in dream, and always it tore the heart out of him.
    She took a step toward the Chancellor.
    He took a step back, his eyes wide.
    “You killed my penguin, right here. You tried to rape me . . .”
    “No,” Jared moaned, off to the side. “No, no. I didn’t. I wouldn’t. What is happening? I don’t understand . . .”
    “You.” Vivian’s head turned in Jared’s direction, all predator now, even her body posture changing as the scales spread. Only an instant and it would be too late. “You dared—”
    Zee stepped between her and the prey, put both hands on her shoulders, forced himself to look deep into eyes now soulless and hungry. “Vivian. Stay with me. Please.”
    If she shifted, he would be dead, unless he killed her first. Three full breaths, and then recognition came into her eyes; the scales began to fade.
    “Are you back?”
    She nodded, laced her fingers with his, and gave Jared a look of pure contempt before turning back to the Chancellor. “Gareth,” she said, as if there had been no interruption, no threat of a dragon emerging from her body, “you helped me, in the end. You said you thought I was right that your counterpart was a better man. Do you remember?”
    The Chancellor nodded, wary, keeping his distance.
    “I’m offering you another opportunity. We’re looking for something you can help us find.”
    “I can’t imagine what that would be.” Color had begun to return to his cheeks; he breathed more easily. His fingers toyed with something in his pocket.
    “Of course you do,” Vivian said, her fingers tightening around Zee’s. “Where did you hide them?”
    Zee put his free right hand to the sword hilt, ready for either one of the assholes to make a wrong move.
    The Chancellor had his hand out of his pocket now, something hidden in the palm.
Dreamsphere.
Zee leaped into a full-scale tackle, his weight bearing the other man to the ground, preventing him from looking into the thing he held in his hand. As they hit the ground he jarred Gareth’s elbow against a stone. The fingers opened and a small crystal sphere rolled onto the grass.
    Releasing Gareth, he secured the dreamsphere before it could do any harm, careful not to look at it. The Chancellor was no longer a threat—the blow to his elbow had crippled his right arm, which hung limp at an awkward angle. Through jaws clenched with pain Gareth said, “You can kill me, but I won’t tell you where to look.”
    “What about if you tell her?” Zee gestured toward Vivian. “She’s got plenty of reason to hurt you without even thinking about what you’ve got hidden away.”
    “I’m guessing this dreamsphere will take us to the general location,” Vivian said, taking the thing from Zee’s hand. “I suggest we start there.” She