Dreams of Change Episode 4

Dreams of Change Episode 3

Episode 4


We got back to the university well after dark. The lobby was empty, as it usually was at that hour. I went over to the elevator and the guy behind the desk let out a sharp whistle. "Hey, you gotta sign in. Who you here to see?"

"I'm Ben Stansfield," I said, holding up my key. "I'm here to pick up my stuff."

"Oh yeah?"

I punched the button and the elevator doors opened up. When they closed again, they shut off his bureaucratic tirade.

"Are you going to get in trouble for that?" asked Natalie.

"I refuse to worry about it. I'm just going to get my stuff, and then good riddance to this place."

There were still some scraps of police tape on my doorframe, and inside the place definitely looked searched. Things weren't messy or thrown around, but the desk was askew and there were things hanging out of the dresser drawers. I squeezed down the little twinge of violation I felt, and started collecting up my things and stuffing them in a big duffel bag.

Natalie stood in the doorway. "Need any help?"

"Yeah, see if the stuff on my desk will fit in those milk crates. Books first, the rest if it'll go."

She looked around. "Where's your laptop?"

I shrugged. "Don't have one. I use the computers at the library, mostly."

"Oh." She got to work.

By the time I was done with the duffel bag, she had scooped up everything on and in the desk. The schoolbooks filled one crate, and the office supplies jangled around on top of a few cheap paperbacks in the other.

I slung the duffel bag over my shoulder and rolled my eyes. "It's a self-help book for people who have trouble controlling their magical talents."

"Was it any help?"

"None at all. It was written by a Spooky, so I assume she knows what the inside of someone's mind looks like, but…" I shrugged. "I'm convinced it's not a psychological thing, though."

"Because it didn't go away when you got put in the cell?"

"Yeah. There's something else going on."

"You got anything else we need to pack up?" I could tell she wanted to say, "Is this all?" She didn't, though, and I was grateful.

"Yeah, that's it. The bedclothes, furniture… everything else was here when I moved in." I hefted the crates and left the room while she held the door open for me.

Leo had his door propped open and when I came out into the hall he came out to meet me. "Hey, Ben, I ah… I want you to know I think it sucks that you got kicked out of the dorm."

I cocked an eyebrow at him. "Yeah, well, sorry you won't have a hot babe living on the floor anymore." The nerve of him, thinking that anything he could say now would make up for what had happened on the floor.

"Aw, it's not like that at all."

I pushed past him. "Save it. Salve your conscience somewhere else, you're not getting any forgiveness here."

In the elevator, Natalie said, quietly, "He seemed pretty sincere to me."

"Yeah, well, you didn't live next door to him. Whenever I had a female body he was always leering at me. Him and the whole rest of the floor."

She didn't say anything, just wrapped one long arm around my shoulder and squeezed, and it was the best possible thing she could have done.

When we got back to the Belfry, I put my things on the floor next to the door. Harrison glided in, looking no less impeccable than he ever did. "Welcome back, Miss Grace, Mister Stansfield. Shall I bring your things up to your room?"

"Yes, please," said Natalie before I could protest.

"I'm not moving in," I said, and stifled a yawn.

"You're going to need most of those things, aren't you?"

"Well, yes, eventually, but…"

"But nothing. Take advantage of the opportunity!"

I chuckled, and yawned behind my hand again. "Oh, excuse me. It's been a long day."

Natalie stared at me, flicking one ear, and then the other.

I cocked an eyebrow. "What?"

"You transform at night, right?"

"Yes."

"Do you dream on those nights?"

"Yes, but I never remember them. Nothing to go on."

"Come on. Follow me."

At the end of the hall, Natalie opened a door into a small studio. A raised bed, like the kind a massage therapist might use, stood in the center of the room, with a small stool nearby. In one corner, long blue curtains hung behind a small altar with silver ritual items. The walls were paneled in dark wood, decorated with fabric wall-hangings in abstract pastel patterns.

"What is this?"

"It's my studio. Dad had it built for me when he found out I wanted to become a dream therapist."

"It's, um, it's nice. It certainly looks professional."

"If it's alright with you, I'd like to watch your dreams tonight, see if I can get any clues about your condition."

"You really think it'll work? I mean, I've been examined by some pretty knowledgeable wizards."

"Were any of them dream experts?"

"Well, no, but…"

"Then it's worth a try. Besides, I need to look into someone's dreams for class credit. I was supposed to do it with a classmate, but I couldn't find a lab partner. I am going to have to report what I see in your dreams to my professor, but aside from that it will be completely confidential."

I shrugged. "I don't know what I dream about anyways, so I guess it can't hurt. What do you need me to do?"

"Go get into your pajamas, take care of whatever you do at bedtime, and meet me back here. I'll get my things ready."

A few minutes later I returned to the studio, dressed in one of my "Ben Stansfield" tee shirts and a pair of sweatpants. The lights in the studio were turned down low, and while it wasn't too dark to see, it was definitely a more restful environment. Blue and white candles burned on the altar, alongside a sweet-smelling incense in the little brazier. Soft orchestral music played from some unseen speakers.

"You sleep in those too?" she asked, looking over my outfit. "It's not like anyone needs to know who you are while you're sleeping."

"Well, no, I usually don't sleep in anything at all. Makes it less complicated if my size changes radically." I could feel a flush coming to my cheeks, and I was glad my dark skin would hide it.

"Oh, I see." She was blushing. I couldn't see it under the black fur on her face, but I could hear it in her voice. "Well, anyways, lie down, and get comfortable."

The bed had sheets now, and a pillow and blanket. It looked just like a bed, though raised up higher than usual. I slid between the covers and lay my head on the pillow. It was quite comfortable, providing just the right balance between support and softness. I felt no need whatsoever to squirm or adjust my position.

The music stilled, fading into a slow, gentle melody of organ music. The lights dimmed even further, until only the candles lit the room. I felt my eyelids start to droop. I smiled to myself as sleep gradually overcame me, at how quickly I had come to trust Natalie. There was something about her, a kindred spirit, that told me that she really did like me. It wasn't an act, a game designed to put me at ease while she set me up for an emotional pratfall.

It felt good.

* * * * *

I awoke with a start, to a scream and a crash. Sitting up, I looked around, coming to my senses in the unfamiliar room. One of the candles had been knocked over and went out, and the room was in near darkness. I jumped from the bed and turned on the lights. I had changed again, but there wasn't time for self-inspection.

Natalie was gone, and in her place was a familiar-looking woman, lying unconscious on the studio floor. She had very dark skin, big boobs and tightly curled hair.

I knelt at her side and touched her shoulder. "Natalie?" My voice was male and resonant.

Her eyes flickered open and she shook her head. She screamed and pushed me away, and then glanced down at my shirt. "Ben?"

I offered my hand, and she let me help her to her feet. "What happened?"

She put one hand to the side of her head. "Your dream, it was…" she shook her head again. "It was like nothing I've ever seen before. Colors, shapes, sounds… very confusing, very disorienting. I'm sorry…"

"It's me who should be apologizing. I had no idea. Do you know why you were transformed?"

"There was a presence there. I can't describe it any more accurately than that. It was there, and it saw me. It lashed out, and…" she looked down at herself. "I guess I passed out."

"Do we need to get you to a doctor?"

The door opened suddenly. I spun around to see Harrison standing in the hall. His bathrobe was a stark contrast to the submachine gun in his hands. He glanced around the room, then leveled the weapon. "Where is Miss Grace?"

Natalie held up her hands. "Harrison, it's me. This is Ben. Somehow Ben's transformation spell rubbed off on me, that's all. You can go back to bed."

He raised an eyebrow, his mouth drawn in a serious line. "Ebon Geology Indignity."

"Jellybean Laughter Nocturna," she replied.

Harrison slung his weapon over his shoulder. "Very well, Miss. Shall I call your father?"

"No, I'll do it in the morning."

"I do not recommend it, Miss Grace. This is the kind of eventuality of which he would likely wish to be immediately notified."

She sighed. "You're right. Go ahead and call him, I'll straighten up in here."

"Wow, that was serious," I said, watching Harrison recede down the hall.

"He's very protective."

"I guess."

Natalie ran her hands over her new body, with a concerned look on her face. "I can't change back. I'm stuck."

"If it's at all like the spells I've had on myself, it'll last a few days, a week at the most. I could try to change you back…"

She gave me a smirk. "No, that's alright. I actually kind of like it. I don't get much chance to be fully human, you know. And we'll be eating the same kind of food. Come on, let's get some coffee, and figure out what we do next. My father is probably going to want to talk to me, after Harrison makes his report."

* * * * *

The coffee was, of course, magnificent, served while Harrison made his phone call.

"Mister Grace, there has been an incident here at the Belfry. A transformation spell associated with our guest has had an unintended consequence, and Miss Grace has been transformed into the body that Mister Stansfield had when he arrived. Mister Stansfield is now a moderately tall man with dark hair and green eyes. You may of course call at your earliest convenience."

Harrison took off the headset and stowed it in the pocket of his bathrobe. "Mister Grace was unavailable, so I left a message."

"Thank you, Harrison. You can go back to bed, we'll clean up in here."

"Yes, Miss Grace. Have a good night."

After he left the room, Natalie flexed her fingers, watching them work.

"It's not a bad body," I said.

"No, not at all. Has anything like this happened to you before?"

"No, never. Add this to the fact that the spell didn't go away in the anti-magic cell in the police station and there's a lot of strange stuff going on."

"We should tell my oneiromancy teacher, see what she thinks."

"Who's that?"

"Doctor Swallowtail."

I groaned.

"What's wrong?"

"She's my transmutation teacher. She thinks this whole thing is something psychological on my part, some kind of play for attention."

"Then this is an opportunity to prove that it's not."

I nodded. "I'm just not looking forward to talking to her about it."

"Best to just get it over with, right?"

"You're right. Maybe you could call to get an appointment with her? She just brushes me off when I try to talk to her."

"Let's not give her the chance. If we just show up at her office she won't be able to turn us away." She looked at her hands again. "This is really weird, you know."

"Just be glad you didn't get changed into the opposite gender. First time that happened to me I really freaked out."

"I can only imagine. When was that?"

"A few years ago. I was in high school. Sixteen, maybe seventeen years old. My foster mother dressed me in clothes from one of her other kids and sent me in to school with a note. They made me use the staff restroom, made me change for gym class in the teacher's office. It was humilating."

"Nobody should have to endure that kind of thing. Wasn't there anyone looking out for you?"

"Sure there was. There was the child psychiatrist who told her that I was making trouble to get attention, and the social worker who told her that I was making trouble to get attention, and the principal who told her that I was making trouble to get attention."

"It must have seemed like you were all alone in the world."

"Yeah. That pretty much covers it."

She reached across the table and took my hand. "You're not alone anymore."

I felt tears coming to my eyes, but just as I was about to speak, Natalie's phone rang. "You better get that."

"Right." She picked up the phone and answered. "Belfry… Hi daddy. Yes, it's me… Cardboard, plywood, lollipop… No, I tried… yes… Okay." She closed her eyes in concentration for a moment, then spoke again. "Still can't change. Yes… yes, we're going to talk to Doctor Swallowtail tomorrow. She can probably help… yes, daddy, I will. See you in the morning? Oh, okay. Well…" Her eyes flicked over at me, then went back to looking at nothing in particular. "Goodbye, Daddy."

"That sounded like it went well," I said.

"Yeah, he's pretty good that way." She looked down at the phone, and put it on the table. "I never realized how good it is, having a parent I can trust."

All I could do was nod. If I spoke, I would never stop crying.

She looked up again, and her face fell. "Oh, Ben… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Coming around the table, she gathered me into her arms and hugged me, cooing, stroking my hair.

And the tears fell. For my parents, for all the bullshit I had gone through, for all the humiliation and pain that they could have saved me. I cried like I hadn't cried since the first days after the accident.

And she held me through all of it.

And when I could cry no more, still she held me. "Come on," she said. "Let's get you cleaned up and into bed."

* * * * *

I was stuck on my back, staring up at a sky of red clouds. A bolt of multicolored lightning arced across them, thundering. I scrabbled to get purchase and rocks cut into my hand. Finally, I managed to pull myself up and onto my belly on just the strength of my arm and the stumps of my legs..

A cracked landscape stretched to mountains in every direction. In the distance, a shifting light shone from the windows of a stone ruin. It had to be at least a mile away. I looked around, but my artificial limbs were nowhere to be seen. How could I get to the light without them?

The light seemed to beckon to me, moving from window to window, changing colors, dimming and brightening. I had to know what it was.

I pulled myself forward, dragging myself through sharp gravel. I'd grind myself into hamburger if I tried to crawl the whole way on just one arm.

"Hey!" I shouted. "Anyone there?"

The answer came in fat raindrops that fell, stinging, on my back. Soon water was rising around me. The flood came quickly, lifting me from the cutting stones but also engulfing me in its asphyxiating embrace. I fought, thrashing the water, trying to get to the surface, for light, for air.

And I woke.

I was in bed, in the Belfry, still with two arms and two legs, sweat covering my body. I stumbled onto the two feet I had gone to bed with, made it to the bathroom, splashed water in my face with the two hands I'd had the night before.

I looked into the mirror. I remembered my dream.

My body still coursed with adrenaline, but it didn't matter. I remembered. I remembered! I laughed long and loud, gripping the edge of the sink.

I remembered my dream!

A knock at the bedroom door. Natalie's voice. "Ben? Ben, are you okay?"

I ran to the door and flung it open. She was standing there in a bathrobe, hair disheveled from bed, bleary-eyed, and I danced around her, giddy with emotions. "I had a nightmare! I had a nightmare, and I remembered it!"

Her expression cycled through amusement, concern, and frustration. "Ben calm down, you're going to hurt yourself."

I stopped in front of her, took her hand. "Something's going to happen. I can tell. I'm finally going to be done with this nonsense!" I started describing the dream to her, the rocks, the water, the ruin, and she gasped.

"Ben, stop, stop. Ben! Listen to me. I had the same dream, except I was looking down at you from on top of a mountain. There's a connection there. This dream—it isn't normal."

"Isn't it wonderful?"

"No, Ben… we need to talk to Doctor Swallowtail. Get yourself ready. We're going to the university."

* * * * *

We got there well before dawn, well before any of the classes started, and stood vigil outside Doctor Swallowtail's office.

"She's going to think I'm you," said Natalie, with a slight grimace. "If she's been as dismissive of you as you say, maybe you ought to do the talking."

"Ugh, no, she hates it when she finds out she's talking to me three minutes into the conversation."

"Hm. If we tell her the truth up front, she's going to think we're playing a game."

"Just the fact that there's two of us is going to help. I don't think I've ever had anyone to vouch for me before."

"Vouch for you for what?" In a flutter of tiny wings the professor came around the corner and right to my face.

"Doctor Swallowtail, this is Natalie Grace, and I'm Ben Stansfield."

She scowled at me, and then over at Natalie.

"Please, Doctor," said Natalie. "Just give us five minutes. Something unusual happened last night, something that sheds new light on Ben's condition."

She hrumphed and flew down to the doorknob, which opened at her touch. "I'll give you two minutes. No more."

Her office was tiny, maybe two meters on a side, half-filled by its modest desk. There were no chairs, at least none for big folks like us, and the desk itself was covered with dirt, in which grew a profusion of exotic flowers and herbs. In the middle of the little garden, a small computer console sat on a doll-sized desk.

Natalie didn't wait to gawk at the unusual choices in office furniture. "Last night, I used the sleep ritual to contact Ben's dream side for my assignment in oneiromancy. What I found wasn't like any dream I've ever heard of, just a blast of cacophonous sound and color, and the contact was broken. I was hit by a spell of some kind, a powerful one, and transformed the way you see me now."

I bit back a sharp response and maintained my composure while I described the nightmare, the first I had remembered since the accident.

"So what do you want from me?" she asked.

Natalie smiled hopefully. "Well,we're hoping you can help?"

"In what way?"

"Well, Ben's dreams are clearly the source of his condition, and I was hoping you could try a Ritual of Convergence to explore them more deeply."

"But Doctor Swallowtail! I was there… in his dream, the second time. There's some kind of connection, something lingering from the dream reading."

"Then I suggest you go down to the infirmary and have them dispel it. They're experts at such things. Now if you don't mind, your two minutes have expired, and I have work to do."

"Come on," I said. "We're not going to get anywhere with her. Let's go." I stalked out, Natalie trailing behind me.

In the elevator I resisted the urge to punch the wall, and just stood there and fumed.

"I can't believe she was so rude," said Natalie.

"I should have expected it. She was never going to help me."

"Maybe…"

"What?"

"Maybe we could go down to this shop I've heard of. Spells 4 U? Supposedly…"

"He's supposed to be really good."

"Forget it. I've heard too many stories about that place, and if even half of them are true it's bad news. How about your guild?"

"Not a chance. Swallowtail is my guildmistress."

"Wonderful." The doors opened and we stepped out into the Cafeteria floor and got in line for breakfast. "So what's this Ritual of Convergence?"

"What I did on you last night was just a dream reading; all I could do was watch your dream happen. It allows for more exactness in interpreting dreams because the interpreter is right there, seeing it. The Ritual of Convergence allows two dreams to come together and merge. Both dreamers become full actors in the dream. It's used when the dreamer needs to be guided through a nightmare, or there's some other work that needs to be done in the dream world."

"That sounds intimate."

"It's not as bad as you think. For one thing, under the ritual it's easier to start lucid dreaming."

"What's that?"

"That's when a dreamer takes some amount of control in the dream, rather than just watching it happen. It's useful for people plagued by nightmares. It can be psychically invasive, but mind you the sensualist guild uses it too. I've heard they use it for all kinds of crazy stuff, things you could never do in the real world. After all, the dream world is the domain of the subconscious mind, our deepest fears and desires."

"Really. So do you know how to do it?"

"Well, yes, it's part of the curriculum. But it's too dangerous to use without a warden."

"What's the danger? It's just a dream, right?"

"Each person's dreamscape sits on the borders of the Dreamlands, the realm between ours and the Heavens and the Hells, like foam on the ocean. That's why the ritual is even possible in the first place. The Dreamlands are always just under the surface."

We finally got up to the counter and made our breakfast orders. I got oatmeal and coffee, and Natalie ordered a "protein drink number six." I checked the menu hanging from the ceiling and read the ingredients.

"Natalie, you're probably going to want something else. Raw blood probably isn't going to taste very good to you right now."

"Oh… right. I'm not really used to this." She changed to scrambled eggs and hash, and we took our food to a table.

"So what's involved in being the warden?"

"He or she would use dream reading to watch the dream, and can dispel the ritual if needed, if things get out of hand. I've done it a couple times, it's no big deal. Nine times out of ten one of the dreamers is the one asking the warden to end it."

"Would one of your classmates be willing to be the warden for us? Most of them have the gift."

"I don't know any of them that well."

"Well, crap."

"The dream reading ritual isn't that hard to teach. Maybe someone in your guild could do it?"

I started to say no, then frowned. "Miss Walters might do it," I said. "George would do it too, but he'd be worthless."

"So? Call her up."

"I don't have her number. I have guild today, though, I'll talk to her then."

* * * * *

I waited until after fireball practice. Kicking through the pile of variously-transformed bits of fluff, I stuffed my hands in my pockets and looked her in the eye. "I think I might have a way to get a handle on my problem."

"Oh? And why aren't you doing it?"

"I need some help. Someone I can trust, someone who can dispel."

"Is that so?"

"Yep. Know anyone like that?"

She chuckled. "I might just. What's the situation, scout?"

I filled her in on what had happened with the dream the night before, and the nightmare, and the Ritual of Convergence.

"So you want me to watch while you and your girlfriend dream about each other, and stop it if you stray outside the operational area?" She clapped her hands and rubbed them together. "Hot damn. Sounds like more fun than a night at the Sensie guild. When and where's this party happening?"

"Wait, I think you misunderstand. This isn't for fun. There's something wrong with my dreams. We're going to try to find out what it is."

"Right, right, sure, sure, whatever you say." She licked her thin lips and winked. "I'll make sure you don't do anything I wouldn't do."

I shook my head, already starting to regret asking her, but I had no other option. "How about nine o'clock tonight?" I wrote out the address and handed it to her.

"You got it soldier. Rendezvous at twenty-one hundred hours." She gave me a sharp salute. "Dismissed."

* * * * *

"So she's coming over at nine." Natalie's skimmer zoomed through the streets on the way back to the Belfry.

She glanced over at me. "You don't look happy about it."

"I wish we had some other choice."

"She's your guildmistress. I mean, that has to count for something."

"She's my guildmistress because she can throw a fireball that'll melt tank armor."

"Well, if she can dispel a ritual, that's the important thing. Just keep your eye on the goal; we're going to get to the bottom of your condition. Maybe end it."

I sighed. "You're right. Of course." I looked out the window at the chaos of traffic around us. "How often does one of these rituals go bad?"

"Not often, but it's enough that we need someone watching. Besides, this is something of a special case, isn't it? More likely to go wrong, I think. It really is best having someone watching out for us."

"If you say so."

* * * * *

Harrison wasn't too sanguine about our plans. After we explained that we were going in simply to explore and gather information, he reluctantly agreed not to advise Mister Grace to forbid the ritual, but merely advised him that it was happening. The call to Mister Grace wasn't an easy one, but Natalie managed to convince her father to let us go forward.

The ritual would be performed in the guest room because there wasn't enough room in Natalie's studio. We needed the big bed, as we would have to be sleeping in close proximity for the ritual to work.

"A little early in our relationship to be sharing a bed, isn't it?" I said with a careful smile.

Even with her dark skin I could tell she was blushing. "Now Ben, this is strictly professional."

"Good," I said, not entirely convinced, "Because Miss Walters thinks that we're going to get up to some kind of antics in the dreamworld."

She blushed deeper and suddenly found the incense burner she was setting up intensely fascinating.

Was Natalie attracted to me? I felt a flush come to my cheeks. "Where do the candles go?" I asked, desperate to change the subject. After all, there was going to be a crazy old lady watching our dream. Was she some kind of exhibitionist?

"Corners of the bed. That's what the metal frames are for, to keep them anchored and keep any wax from falling on the bedclothes."

"Got it." I busied myself installing the candles where they belonged.

I felt a strong urge to say something, to ask her what was on her mind, but what if I were wrong? I could spoil the whole deal if I pushed too hard. I decided to wait and just let events develop.

Harrison came to the bedroom door just as we were finishing the preparations. "Miss Boom-boom Walters, to see you, Miss Grace." The name clearly left a foul taste in his mouth.

Miss Walters shoved past him without waiting to be admitted. "So this is where it's going to be?" she said, and dropped a rucksack onto the floor by the door. From the heavy metallic thunk it made, there was more in it than her knitting.

"What's in there?" I asked.

"Just a toy." She reached in and pulled out a gigantic revolver, black metal with runes etched in the barrel. The thing looked like a horse's leg in her little hand. She patted it lovingly. "Silver bullets, blessed by three different priests. In case you guys release any monsters from the id. I've been doing some research."

"That won't be necessary," said Natalie. "If we do encounter some kind of otherworldly entity in the Dreamlands, it won't be able to cross out here into the real world. It's impossible. The worst that could happen is that it threatens to affect our minds or emotions, or tries to possess one of us. Dispelling the ritual should be all that's required to stop it."

"Magic can cross over," said Miss Walters, checking her ammunition. "And when there's magic involved, you can't be too careful." She shoved the weapon into a holster strapped to her thigh. "So we ready to do this?"

"Sure," said Natalie, "Let me just show you the dream-reading ritual, and we'll be all set."

I went over and sat on the bed while Natalie went over the details. How was I going to be able to sleep with this madwoman in the room with me? I was beginning to think that Natalie was a little over-eager for this ritual, as well. The idea that Miss Walters would be watching over us while carrying a magical handgun that looked capable of sinking battleships didn't seem to be slowing her down in the slightest. Once again, I thought of calling the whole thing off, and once again, I chickened out. It was too late to back down.

I changed into some sweats in the bathroom while Natalie got into her pajamas, and then we laid down, side by side, on the wide expanse of mattress. For a long time, I simply lay there listening to Natalie chanting the words of the ritual while the smell of incense filled the room. The smell was sweet and herbal, flowery with a tinge of mint, and I was surprised at how quickly my eyelids began drooping shut.

Amazingly, in spite of all the reasons why I shouldn't have, I fell asleep.

Dreams of Change Episode 5

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