Dream Seeker

Dream Seeker-Chapter Ten

Brenton Stevenson stared at the handsome estate across the newly paved road. In all of the years, he had lived in the small village of Waterway, there was a clear pasture where now stood the enormous Manor House. His common sense told him to go on about his own business, but his rational side told him something was not right and he was the person to fix it. He leaned on his cane as he tried to think of memories associated with the piece of land. After several minutes of consideration, he began to laugh. How silly was he? How could he have forgotten the kind Lord Palmer? The man whose own cottage he was a tenant of. Scratching his head, convinced he was losing his good reason to age, he went about his own way, not taking a second look back.

An anxious-looking young woman wearing a black cloak hurried up the stairs and rang the bell. A butler led her in to an extravagant drawing room where she met the lord of the house, Mr. Palmer. He was an unusually tall man with cold, piercing eyes. He was smoking a cigar with a pensive look on his face. The woman waited patiently for him to acknowledge her.

"You came," he finally said."I was afraid you were going to refuse my invitation."

She looked at him and frowned. "Why?"

"My daughter is ill," he said.

After a pause, she nodded. "Yes, I am aware of that."

He lowered his voice and leaned forward. "You've heard the rumors."

"I am not one for gossip," she returned, staring straight into his eyes.

He smiled, pleased. He stood up and walked out. Miss Cruz was unsure if she had landed the job or not until the house keeper came in and led her to her living quarters. After dropping her cloak and changing into more comfortable clothing, she heard a knock on the door. One of the servants waited for her with a bowl of warm water and white linen towels tossed over her shoulder. She followed the maid down a narrow passage, leading down a spiral staircase. The lower chamber was dark and damp; the windows hidden behind red drapes, several chairs were fashioned around a large canopy bed. The red velvet curtains were drawn, making it difficult for Miss Cruz to see who was behind them.

Minutes later, her curiosity was fed, when the maids pulled the curtains. The girl was sitting up and staring at her. She had dark circles under her eyes, her skin was pale and moist, and her hair was a wild forest of curls.

"How are you," Miss Cruz enunciated each word but the girl did not respond.

She turned to one of the maids who shrugged. "She has not spoken a word in several months, missus."

She extended her hand and the maid placed a wooden cross on it. "Thank you, you may leave me alone with her now."

The stout woman looked back with a worried glance before walking out. Miss Cruz sat in the arm chair nearest the bed, placing the cross on the nightstand.

"How long will you remain this way?"

Silence.

Marie sighed. "Gael, I don't know what to do. You have to remember, it's the only way I can get you out of here. Don't you understand? You created this mansion and everyone in it. You made this your own prison."

The girl's eyes lit up. "No one has called me that name in a long time, only in my dreams."

"No, not in your dreams, Gael. It was all real, everything we saw, no matter how extraordinary, it was all real, realer than this. This is the rift trying to heal itself. Don't you see that we do not belong here? We belong back in the physical realm, in our bodies. The rift could no longer sustain our wandering minds so it created this world for us."