“What are you doing?”
She sighed. “I’m not doing anything. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
The beautiful green landscape disappeared, replaced by a black, ashen terrain that was dotted with rocks. A jagged mountainside rose steeply before us, climbing into a sky growing gray with thunderclouds. Occasional flashes of lightning danced between the clouds. There was no sign of Olive.
“What is this?” I exclaimed. “Did we get transported into a dystopian movie?”
Nina’s expression was grim. “We’re in Hawaii.”
I glanced around. “I hate to disagree, but when I think Hawaii, I think palm trees and bikinis.”
Nina glanced down at her feet, and a moment later, her sandals transformed into sneakers. She began hiking up the slope. “It’s a volcano we visited when we were kids on vacation.”
“That doesn’t seem so bad,” I said, cautiously following her. “But why change it? The farm was nice.”
“I didn’t change it,” she said, clearly frustrated. “Olive did.”
“Olive’s not a spirit user,” I protested. “She can change her outfit, yeah, but not something this big.”
“Somehow, she took control of the dream from me. She does it every time. I mean, I can do small things like this.” She paused to gesture to her shoes. “But I can’t send us back or bring Olive out.”
“Where is she?”
“Hiding somewhere.” Nina scanned around and pointed to a dark hole in the volcano’s side. “Probably there. That wasn’t part of the real volcano we saw. She must’ve created it.”
My mind was reeling as I approached the cave with her. What she was saying was impossible. Olive couldn’t have power in this dream unless Nina ceded it to her.
“How?” I asked. “How is she doing this? Do you think it has something to do with her being restored from being a Strigoi? From being infused with spirit?”
Nina shook her head. “I don’t think so. I don’t actually feel her using spirit. It’s almost like she’s controlling it by . . . her will.”
I tried to wrap my head around that as we came to a halt in front of the cave. “Now what?”
“Now,” said Nina, “she’s probably hiding from us in there. But if it’s like other places she’s brought me to in dreams, we probably can’t just walk in and—”
A roar from within the cave’s depths cut off her words. Instinctively, I took a few steps back. “What the hell is that?”
Nina looked more weary than frightened. “I don’t know. Something terrible. Something to scare us off.”
Her words were realized as a huge manlike figure made of black rocks came lumbering out of the cave, its eyes burning red. It was a full head taller than me and twice as broad. It came to a halt before us, beat its chest, and let out another roar.
“Have you seen this before?” I exclaimed.
“Not exactly,” said Nina. “Last time she sent a swarm of bats. Before that it was some kind of werewolf creature.”
“You made this dream,” I insisted, backing up further as the lava monster (for lack of a better term) approached. “Get rid of it.”
“I can’t. Not with my thoughts, at least. We have to do this the old-fashioned way.” I felt spirit magic surge within her again, and a cudgel appeared in her hands. Without further warning, she charged forward and swung the weapon at the monster. As she did, I felt more spirit flare inside her. In fact, it was the spirit magic that seemed to lash out at the monster, more than the cudgel. The creature roared in pain, and cracks appeared where the cudgel hit.
“You said you’d help me!” she yelled, clearly annoyed.
I had said that, but I certainly hadn’t expected it to be in this manner. Before I signed on for senseless beating, though, I summoned my own magic and attempted to change the setting into something more hospitable. But when I tried it, I met firm resistance and understood better what Nina had meant. It wasn’t exactly spirit I felt keeping the dream in place . . . but very much like will or intention, just as she’d said.
Unable to alter the dream’s larger context, I imitated her and used a small burst of spirit to create a cudgel of my own. I wasn’t usually violent in nature, and as I swung toward the lava monster—on which Nina had made significant progress—I reminded myself that he was just a dream creation and not a real living thing. When my cudgel struck the creature’s stony hide, I nearly fell backward at the jolt of the impact. It rattled my bones and teeth . . . and didn’t seem to make a difference to the lava monster. Nina paused to glare at me.
“You need to fill yourself up with spirit when you hit it,” she explained in frustration. “That’s the way to fight through.”
She was certainly practicing what she preached. Brimming with magic, she was like a spirit torch beside me, and I was a bit taken aback by the amount she was wielding. It wasn’t quite as severe as the burst used in restoring a Strigoi or bringing back the dead, but it was a notable amount to be holding and sustaining over an extended period of time. Reluctantly, I summoned some of my own—not nearly the amount she was using—and used it to blast the creature when I swung my cudgel. This time, I too cracked the surface.
“More, more!” Nina cried.
“There’s no need,” I said. “This still has impact—without as much magic. It just takes a little longer.”
“We don’t have the time!”
I didn’t understand what she meant until our collective efforts finally defeated the lava monster, and it crumbled to dust before us. Nina sprinted into the cave, and with the creature gone, she seemed to have regained control of the dream. The setting around us changed, and suddenly we were running into the white country house in Wisconsin. I just barely caught sight of Olive in the shadowy corner of a living room, her body obscured by that same billowing cloak from earlier.
“Olive!” screamed Nina. “Show me where you are!” More power surged through her, and the room started to flicker. I could feel a little of what she was doing, and I was astonished. She was trying to make the dream reflect Olive’s surroundings—something even I hadn’t known was possible.
But Olive was fading before our eyes. “I’m sorry, Nina. Please—please stop trying to find me. It’s better this way.”