Dark Side of Dawn: The Nightmare Chronicles by Kathryn Smith Page B

didn’t.
    I couldn’t face Amanda after meeting her rapist. Couldn’t sit there and resent the fact that she had my boyfriend wrapped around her finger when I could see what she had suffered—when I knew what she had suffered.
    I didn’t want to be jealous of her, but I was. And I’d rather saw off my own eyelids than watch Noah fuss over her when his reaction to my possible unmaking had seemed so…less knightly. Not that I wanted him to fuss over me.
    Yes, I’m an idiot. Despite Noah telling me I shouldn’t be jealous. Despite him saying that I was who he wanted to be with. See, the thing was that even though I knew he believed these things, I also knew that he felt guilty for wanting to hit Amanda for her affair. Guilt, coupled with his need to protect, was a powerful motivator.
    And I’ll admit that there was a part of me who figured he’d only be with a freak like me for so long before he wanted a “normal” girl again.
    Yep, just one towering pile of pathetic insecurity—that’s me.
    Normally in this situation I’d put on some sweats, get a huge bowl of cereal—I’m talking a Jethro bowl—and watch Sense and Sensibility , reciting all the best lines at the right moments while Fudge snored on my lap.Instead, I decided to do my waistline and Jane Austen a favor and accept that invitation my father had “issued” the other day in my office bathroom.
    I was going to visit Hadria. I had to anyway, so now was as good a time as any, and maybe visiting with her would give me a better idea of the trouble I was in—and what I could do to set things right. Plus, she was old, and she could no doubt teach me a lot.
    I needed to learn about the Dreaming if I was ever going to be considered part of it—a good part. Imagine people actually thinking I was a villain! I’m nowhere near sophisticated enough to play the villain. Now, the Warden on the other hand…
    Nope, wasn’t going to think of her. Not now when I was already feeling so down on myself. If my lower lip dropped anymore I’d be able to wear it as a balaclava, and while I might often indulge in self-pity, I wasn’t about to let it rule my life. I had choices to make and a fight to win.
    I went into my bedroom, so inviting with its Mid-eastern orange walls and purple bedding. I flopped on top of the bedspread and cradled a pillow beneath my cheek. I felt so tired inside I knew it wouldn’t be hard to fall asleep. While my body recharged in this world, I’d recharge my mind and spirit in the Dreaming.
    Normally when I slipped into the Dreaming, I could “put” myself where I wanted to go—or within a reasonable distance. I had yet to really play with this ability, but if memory served, I could teleport within the Dreaming, just like Morpheus. It made for easy transportation, but I wasn’t sure just how to do it. I still felt more comfortable making the motions of travel, or bending the world to my needs—which was way more work. All I could think of was the scene in Galaxy Quest when the creature came through the transporter inside out.
    Anyway, it seemed that the Temple of Ama was not a place I could just let myself into, for whatever reasons. I ended up entering the Dreaming just outside the gates to the palace. The ivory and horn gates gleamed in the moonlight. Myth said that true dreams passed through the gate of horn and false dreams through the gate of ivory. I don’t know if that’s true, but both gates opened for me whenever I approached.
    Tonight, however, there was a carriage waiting outside those gates.
    Or at least, I thought it was a carriage. It was a large spherical vehicle covered in what looked like smooth purple, silver, and green scales, pulled by two massive pewter-colored griffins with ebony-tipped wings. They were harnessed to the carriage by delicate silver chains that didn’t look hardy enough for the job.
    The door to the carriage, as circular as the vehicle itself, opened and two steps lowered to the ground. The