Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
I froze with my fingers two inches above her arm, ready to touch her.
“I am telling you that this is not a dream.” Pavel stepped forward and terror rose in his eyes. “Why would you then begin to touch things?”
“My mouse is not a thing.” I lowered my hand, and my fingertips brushed against her skin, expecting the cold touch of a figure conjured by dreams.
Instead, her skin was warm, unmistakably alive, but there was something else—a frightening vibration as if her very essence was buzzing.
It was so intense, so unfathomable, that my teeth rattled in response.
Then, her brown skin transformed before my eyes.
Glowing.
And it wasn’t a subtle shimmer, but a radiant, golden light that emanated from within her body. Like the sun itself had been encapsulated beneath her skin.
The dark basement brightened.
And it wasn’t just her skin that changed.
Her black hair went white.
Scared, I yanked my hand back as if burned. The terror that gripped me was primal, a fear of the unknown, of powers beyond my comprehension.
Pavel stepped closer. “This is not a dream. You felt that?”
“I. . .did but. . .” I sat there, transfixed and horrified. “In dreams, things seem real—”
“But they do not feel real—”
“They can—”
“She glowed, Kazimir. She vibrated. I could tell you felt it.” He scowled at me. “This is not a dream or hallucination.”
Slowly, Emily’s glowing gold skin dimmed and darkened back to brown.
Next, her white strands returned to black.
Pavel walked over to the other side of her and gazed down. “This is something far beyond. . . something sacred and profane.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that you need to wake up. Shake your head or—”
“Hold on. If I need to wake up, then this is a dream—”
“It is not—”
“Then, what is it?” I bared my teeth at him. “Stop talking in riddles!”
Pavel didn’t flinch at my outburst. Also, his gaze never left Emily. “You are in her mind.”
“My mouse’s mind?”
“Yes.”
I shook my head. “Impossible.”
“You are talking to a ghost right now—the part of my spirt that chose to haunt you—”
“Correction. You are a figment of my imagination—a metaphor for the guilt that I have over killing you.”
“Correction?” Pavel sneered. “Stubborn fool. This is why you are here in the first place, and somehow you have dragged me into this mess. Wake up!”
Before I could attempt to form a response, a movement caught my eye.
I looked to my right.
There, in the shadowed corner of the basement, stood a little girl.
I froze in further horror.
She was the spitting image of the child from Emily’s painting. She had these two long, thick braids and wore jeans and a blue shirt with a gray mouse on it.
My hands shook. “The. . .little girl.”
She whispered, “You should wake up.”
Pavel spotted the little girl and backed away. “This is not, okay, Kazimir. We must go.”
The little girl remained in that corner and nodded. “And you cannot touch her again.”
I swallowed. “Why not?”
“Because. . .” The little girl shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe, it would be bad if she woke up.”
Pavel bobbed his head. “Perhaps, you would get stuck in her mind.”
“But. . .” Slowly, I rose and then backed away from Emily. “How can I be inside her mind?”
Pavel finally turned to face me. His expression turned grave. “Remember the witch, and the drink she gave Emily? Whatever magic was in that concoction. . .it passed through to her breast milk.”
My thoughts shifted to that night in Delphine’s basement and what she had said.
“Love your mouse, Lion. That is it. However. . .” She lifted one finger up and wagged it. “Do not drink her breast milk. No matter how much you want to.”
Maxwell slowly turned my way. “Man, I know you haven’t been drinking her milk. Right?”
I eyed Delphine. “Why can’t I drink it?”
“Because what I gave her is going to pass through it, and you don’t want to delve into that madness.”
My hand clutched at my stomach, and my face contorted in discomfort. “That cannot be.”
Pavel turned to me. “Why not?”
“I drank her breast milk that night and went to sleep. Nothing happened. Then, I drank again.”
“But, your mouse did not go to sleep the first night.”
I considered that and remembered she stayed up all night painting.
This is the first time since we left Delphine’s that she has gone to sleep.
“It is the breast milk, Kazimir.” Pavel’s voice was a mix of certainty and disbelief. “The witch told you not to drank it, and instead of listening, you gulped. Twice.”
I trembled.
“And whatever magic Emily ingested, whatever power was meant to lock her in her own psyche. . . You ingested it too. Through her.”
“No, that cannot be,” I protested, even as the reality of his words sank in like claws into my flesh.
“Think about it, Kazimir. How else could you explain this? You are here, feeling, experiencing things that are impossible in the waking world. This is not some dream conjured by your subconscious. You are in her mind now, and even more, you dragged me into this.”