She stepped to the bow of the boat, holding on tightly and bending cautiously to look. Blackness.
“Dragon?” she called, hearing her voice echo endlessly. “Dragon, are you there?” It was ridiculous: she felt disappointed. Then her field of vision was filled with golden eyes and golden feathers, and the feathers were brushing her face. Something warm and undragonlike touched her lips.
Chuckling delightedly, the dragon floated back a couple of feet, his clawed forepaws clapping together. “I stole one!” he crowed triumphantly.
“Thief!” Brooke accused, leaning even farther to swipe at him with one hand. The dragon seemed to be shimmering before her eyes, changing somehow. She felt feathers come away in her hand and suddenly she knew that face, recognized it. Then her balance went haywire and she was plunging headfirst over the bow of the boat and into blackness.
“Help!” She heard her own panicked yell and then the dragon’s “What the hell?” and he seemed to be calling her name but she was still falling and she couldn’t fly with only a handful of feathers and no wings at all….
“Brooke.”
She shot bolt upright in bed, dimly aware of hugging her pillow to her breasts. After the first breathless feeling of returning to reality from a dream, she also became aware that her bedroom light was on and that Cody was sitting on the edge of her bed and staring at her anxiously. On the floor at the other side of her bed was Phantom, braced up on his three good legs and gazing at her as his tail waved rather doubtfully.
Brooke reached up to push tumbled hair off her forehead and produced a glare, which she aimed at Cody. “That wasn’t fair!”
He looked bewildered. “
What
wasn’t fair?” he demanded a bit unsteadily. “I mean, besides your waking me up in the dead of night screaming something that sounded like ‘Thief.’ You scared the hell out of me! And then, when I turned the light on, there you were, wrestling with the covers and yelling for help. What in God’s name were you dreaming?”
Brooke started to tell him—at length and in great detail—but she started giggling before intelligible words could work their way out. The giggles turned into laughter, fed by the increasing confusion on Cody’s face. She hid her own face in the pillow, the entire dream flashing through her mind with the clarity of a movie.
She felt lightheaded, dizzy, and yet strangely free. It was as if her subconscious mind had struggled to resolve some conflict, shrouding it in symbolism and flinging it at her in a dream. And Brooke didn’t know why it was so funny, but it was somehow, and even funnier to remember how many emotions she’d been feeling in the past twenty-four hours. A watchful part of her mind wondered idly if she was hysterical, and when she finally lifted her face from the pillow, she saw a suspicion of the same thought on Cody’s face.
Before he could administer the traditional remedy, Brooke choked off the laughter and lifted a hand in a wait-a-minute gesture. “I—I’m fine,” she managed a bit shakily.
“Are you sure?” he asked, unconvinced. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen someone wake up from a nightmare and then burst into laughter.”
“It—it wasn’t really a nightmare.”
“No?” Cody reached over to pry her hand loose from the pillow. He held the hand between them for a moment, looking at it, then gazed quizzically back at her. “Then why’d you shred your pillow?”
Brooke looked at the mangled corner of her pillow, then uncurled her fingers and saw that she’d acquired a deathgrip on a handful of feathers. She started to giggle again.
“Hey, don’t do that again,” Cody begged quickly. “You’re making me nervous.”
She swallowed the giggles and carefully cleared her throat. “I’m fine, Cody—really. It wasn’t a nightmare, just—just a somewhat involved dream. Nothing to worry about.”
Cody didn’t release her hand. “Are you sure? I
“Dragon?” she called, hearing her voice echo endlessly. “Dragon, are you there?” It was ridiculous: she felt disappointed. Then her field of vision was filled with golden eyes and golden feathers, and the feathers were brushing her face. Something warm and undragonlike touched her lips.
Chuckling delightedly, the dragon floated back a couple of feet, his clawed forepaws clapping together. “I stole one!” he crowed triumphantly.
“Thief!” Brooke accused, leaning even farther to swipe at him with one hand. The dragon seemed to be shimmering before her eyes, changing somehow. She felt feathers come away in her hand and suddenly she knew that face, recognized it. Then her balance went haywire and she was plunging headfirst over the bow of the boat and into blackness.
“Help!” She heard her own panicked yell and then the dragon’s “What the hell?” and he seemed to be calling her name but she was still falling and she couldn’t fly with only a handful of feathers and no wings at all….
“Brooke.”
She shot bolt upright in bed, dimly aware of hugging her pillow to her breasts. After the first breathless feeling of returning to reality from a dream, she also became aware that her bedroom light was on and that Cody was sitting on the edge of her bed and staring at her anxiously. On the floor at the other side of her bed was Phantom, braced up on his three good legs and gazing at her as his tail waved rather doubtfully.
Brooke reached up to push tumbled hair off her forehead and produced a glare, which she aimed at Cody. “That wasn’t fair!”
He looked bewildered. “
What
wasn’t fair?” he demanded a bit unsteadily. “I mean, besides your waking me up in the dead of night screaming something that sounded like ‘Thief.’ You scared the hell out of me! And then, when I turned the light on, there you were, wrestling with the covers and yelling for help. What in God’s name were you dreaming?”
Brooke started to tell him—at length and in great detail—but she started giggling before intelligible words could work their way out. The giggles turned into laughter, fed by the increasing confusion on Cody’s face. She hid her own face in the pillow, the entire dream flashing through her mind with the clarity of a movie.
She felt lightheaded, dizzy, and yet strangely free. It was as if her subconscious mind had struggled to resolve some conflict, shrouding it in symbolism and flinging it at her in a dream. And Brooke didn’t know why it was so funny, but it was somehow, and even funnier to remember how many emotions she’d been feeling in the past twenty-four hours. A watchful part of her mind wondered idly if she was hysterical, and when she finally lifted her face from the pillow, she saw a suspicion of the same thought on Cody’s face.
Before he could administer the traditional remedy, Brooke choked off the laughter and lifted a hand in a wait-a-minute gesture. “I—I’m fine,” she managed a bit shakily.
“Are you sure?” he asked, unconvinced. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen someone wake up from a nightmare and then burst into laughter.”
“It—it wasn’t really a nightmare.”
“No?” Cody reached over to pry her hand loose from the pillow. He held the hand between them for a moment, looking at it, then gazed quizzically back at her. “Then why’d you shred your pillow?”
Brooke looked at the mangled corner of her pillow, then uncurled her fingers and saw that she’d acquired a deathgrip on a handful of feathers. She started to giggle again.
“Hey, don’t do that again,” Cody begged quickly. “You’re making me nervous.”
She swallowed the giggles and carefully cleared her throat. “I’m fine, Cody—really. It wasn’t a nightmare, just—just a somewhat involved dream. Nothing to worry about.”
Cody didn’t release her hand. “Are you sure? I
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