The Night Curse (Book one)

I’d managed to enter Mia’s dream as she’d directed, our deep bond requiring no object to do so. I visualised Mia in my mind’s eye, felt a pull towards her own mind, and allowed myself to ride that wave until it was as if she’d absorbed me into her conscience or I’d slipped into another dimension.

Now I stand inside her dream, past the fortress, unable to have any effect on her whatsoever. Whatever I try to summon fails to materialise.

“You need to let go,” Mia instructs, flashing her hands with extended fingers like that will make it easier.

We’ve been training for what feels like hours, and I know my body is growing slick with sweat under the frustration of trying to unleash my powers.

I let out a loud huff that’s been building for some time. “This is ridiculous! Maybe it’s been too long. I might not be able to use them anymore.”

Trying to get my abilities to work is like kindling a fire in a brutal storm. Every defence in my body fights against it. Worse than that, I’m blind about where to strike the match. Trying to find my power is like trying to find a breathing hole within a frozen ocean. It’s impossible.

Mia shoots me a darting look. “You’ll achieve nothing with that attitude.”

Does she blame me?

Yesterday, my history was my own. Now…I’m altered. I’m yet to come to terms with my true identity. All those years where I had loathed the monster that killed my mother, I was unknowingly hating myself. I had killed her. I was the villain. I just didn’t know it. But my father did, and he kept me in the dark, then raised me to hate the very thing that swam through my own veins. Turning into that version of myself will require quieting the demons in my head.

I grip my hands, readying to start again.

“Your mind is an endless labyrinth. You are in control of its construct. You can open any door. You are trying to push against your mind when you need to lose yourself within its maze.”

Riddles. She’s talking in riddles. “What do you mean?”

“I imagine myself falling to start, as I’ve said, but I chose the destination of where I land.”

I seethe. “I’ve tried that.”

“It’s about losing control. It feels freeing and terrifying all at the same time. You need to tap into those emotions and try to harness them.” Mia stills. “I want to try something, if you’ll let me.”

I take a deep breath and burrow my brows. “But your powers don’t work on me.”

“Humour me,” Mia requests.

Not quite knowing why, I close my eyes and wait.

And wait.

Nothing feels different.

“Mia I don’t think—“, my breath hitches. Stones crumble underfoot. I stand daringly close to the edge of a crag. The bottom is a continuous abyss. I try to lurch inland, but I’m rooted to the spot. Turning my head over my shoulder, I just make out Mia’s dress flowing in the roaring wind. I try to speak, or scream, but no sound comes out of my mouth. My gaze returns to the precipice, and a guttural crack punctures the air. The stone beneath my weight begins to break. Spidery fractures splinter the rock into sections too small to stay intact. In front of me, a gorge of mist and ice.

The fall is imminent, and I am paralysed with terror.

“What are you going to do?” Mia shouts above the whistle of wind and avalanche of rock, rebounding like a shotgun.

She knows I can’t speak. She’s robbed me of my voice.

“Are you going to let yourself fall, Harlow? You can save yourself. It’s within you.”

The sections of broken cliff deepen at an alarming speed, and I’m left balancing on a single piece, barely large enough for both feet. The threat of death is as sure as the sands of time that slip between my fingers.

A deafening snap has me bracing myself, and I imagine anything but the alternative, anything to save myself from the dread and fear and…

Softness meets my skin, prising my lids open.

Instead of a hard floor, and my battered body pulsing with pain, my back is comforted by the suppleness of a cloud. I float, as if sailing, and see Mia drifting by on her own fluffy ship, beaming like a Cheshire cat.

“You can influence my dream,” I say. “But how?”

“Perhaps now you know what you are, that barrier between us has broken. Before it felt impenetrable, but now…”

“And now?”

“Now it is as effortless as breathing.”

“Whatever the reason I am glad, not for that of course,” I reflect on the scariness of falling, the realism of it all. “I thought you were going to let me die. I didn’t feel like I was in a dream. It felt so…lifelike.”

For those terrifying few minutes, I hadn’t realised what was truly happening. Only the pressure of fight or flight whirled within me, making the threat of falling all too tangible.

Mia sits up and spreads her lips into an achingly beautiful smile, and I think that the world could stop just for that alone.

Our clouds gravitate towards one another, allowing me to reach out and hold her.

“I didn’t save you,” she says. “That was all you.”

“I did that?”

No sense of untethering overtakes me. No eruption of power fills my body. Nothing identifies the shift in me other than this single white cloud, the subtlety of it as trivial as a fallen feather.

“Change it,” Mia asks. “Imagine something else other than a cloud.” The excitement and pride on her face is contagious.

I look within myself and paint a picture that rushes like a flood. I envisage a meadow, with sprawling hills, a distant mountain range, and a growing sun—gold within a pale sky.

Mia gasps, and I see the dreamscape that I’ve summoned as perfect as I had wished. “How did you do that?”

“Like you taught me.”

“But…I didn’t think that you could conjure an entire dream. I thought you’d only be able to change a single element. This is incredible, Harlow.”

She spins and twirls around the field. The glowing sun illuminates her smooth skin.

I’m struck with the realisation that she’s all I need. Her awe, her joy, and this magical place are all I need. Let them hang me now, and leave me to my heaven, for all of time.

I grab Mia’s delicate palm and twist her into me. Her wide eyes melt into a heady, almost drowsy stare of liquid violet, and her rose-tinted lips part in a way that sends my toes curling.

It’s so quiet. No more roaring wind. No more firing rock. Just the hammering of my heart.

“Every ounce of you is incredible.” I press my lips to her temple. “Here.” I trace the sweep of her throat. “Here.”

Then her mouth. “Here.”

I’m weightless and falling once more as her snow-soft lips part against my own. But it isn’t enough. No amount of Mia is ever enough. I cradle the back of her head, between the strands of night that cascade down her bending spine. She groans just as our mouths stretch and the kiss deepens. The fervent urgency to connect with every part of her rages with the lashing of my tongue. The surging tide that I had felt before changing the dream returns. I don’t need a cloud to stop my fall. For all I care, unrelenting rock can be my fate. As long as I get to feel this until the very end.

I gather her against me, and we roll to the floor, tangled against the grass and wildflowers.