Skye is the Limit by Phenomenal Pen (best ebook reader ubuntu .TXT) 📖

The symbol that Mage skillfully drew on the floor was the 2-D rendition of the Benben stone, the golden mound under every one of their Anima crests. It was a triangle with the figure of a stork, its wings addorsed and inverted, and intricate hieroglyphs running horizontally below it. Then, Mage enclosed everything in a perfect circle. 

Mage sat cross-legged inside this outer ring, closed his eyes and started chanting an arcane, rapid incantation. The Dreamwalkers could catch only two words: nāwiht and ān recurring in seemingly random patterns. The whole thing looked like a scene in a horror flick and the effect was enhanced by each other’s incongruous new getup.

Then, in one startling and convulsive motion, Mage threw his upper body forward and bowed his hooded head. When he looked up again, his eyes were shining as bright as the candles while the candles themselves had all gone out because of an errant, inexplicable draught.

Mage slowly took off his hood as though to introduce himself for the first time.    

“Test: one two one two. Is this thing on?”

The Dreamwalkers looked at each other quizzically.

Mage’s lips smiled widely but the rest of his face remained as reticent as botox. His voice too was exactly the same as before – a raspy, drawn-out monotone. The mixed signals were uncanny.

“Hi, Dreamwalkers! How are you all doing?”

The Dreamwalkers didn’t respond and fidgeted nervously.

“OK, don’t answer that. I know you’re in a bit of a fix because of what happened to Fairy. But don’t worry because the good news is you got just a little left on the clock. And you all know what that means, right?”

Again, no response.

“It means you can all go home! To be exact, you’ll all be back with me here in the waking world in exactly… um… one hour and twenty-four minutes.”

The Count finally cleared his throat and spoke: “If you’re indeed The Dream-maker like Mage said, can’t you just bend the rules and bring us all back this instant? Aren’t gods supposed to be…”

(Omni Systems)

“… omnipotent?”

“I understand what you’re saying, Zee – er, Count. But I’m afraid I’m not allowed to do that. The best thing for you to do is to not think of your time over there in the dream world as a chore but rather as an adventure. I mean, come on. Aren’t you guys enjoying yourselves even just the teeniest bit?”

Bear Tooth snapped at this and flipped the nearest bed upside-down.

“Enjoy? Enjoy? You think we enjoy this?” he growled – literally. “I’ve been transformed into a monster and you find this amusing? What kind of a god are you?”

“Er… I’m kind of affiliated to the, um, Greek gods. So… you know… your mortal lives are like my playthings or something. But don’t you worry, Bear Tooth! I give you my word that none of these effects are permanent and you will all return to your normal selves once you get back to the waking world.”

Bear Tooth’s face softened like a bulldog’s at the sight of a treat.

“You promise?” he asked.

“Yep. Cross my heart and pinky swear.”  

“All right, that’s good enough for me,” he said and went back to sitting on the floor oddly, on his haunches. With his mass and all his armor, it didn’t look comfortable at all. 

“What was your reason for sending us here?” Nethril asked.

“You might find this hard to believe, Ellie, but you guys actually volunteered to enter SKYE.”

“What did you call me?”

“Er, what do you mean?”

“My name. What did you say my name was?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Nethril. That’s your name and that’s what I called you.”

“Did he say Nethril?” Nethril asked the rest of the Dreamwalkers. Everyone readily nodded.

“Who in his right mind would volunteer to come to a place like this?” It was the Count’s turn to grill the Dream-maker.

“You did. Let’s just say all you guys were bored in the waking world and decided to have an adventure in SKYE.”

“I find that hard to believe,” the Count said. “I know all about expeditions but no care was taken and all safety was ignored in this one. It was more like you let us embark on a galley.”

The last words were difficult for Mage to translate. The Count’s original French idiom, s'embarquer dans une galère, was closer to “walking into the lion’s den” in English.

“I see there’s no going around it,” Mage said. “Very well…”

All at once Mage’s long silver hair rose and flailed like tentacles in the air. It shone like a corona that both crowned his head and bathed the entire room. His eyes were blazing balls of fire and his voice adopted the rolling quality of thunder.

“LISTEN TO ME, DREAMWALKERS! I AM YOUR MAKER ALEX CHASE! I AM THE ALPHA AND THE OMEGA! THOU SHALT HAVE NO OTHER GODS BEFORE ME! DO NOT FORGET THIS AND I SHALL SPARE YOUR PETTY EXISTENCE!”