It feels like it's only been five minutes when the light shines stubbornly from the gaps of the inn's curtains into my eyes. How long has it been since I got a decent sleep? More than a week, probably. Ever since the Book has… become part of my life.
Even now, I can feel it watching me. It's not like it was before, when I would hear its voice on occasion, and occasionally the Book would take control of me. No, this is far different. I think it started happening when I inflicted the first nightmare upon Amanda. At one moment, I would be in control, I myself would be inflicting the nightmare upon her in my vain attempt to shake myself free of the Book's influence. At another moment, the Book would take control, guiding every thought, every figment to be woven into Amanda's nightmare. And in between… there were moments where it wasn't really clear which one of us was in control.
The irony is… I want to win Amanda's mind over to our side as much as the Book does. I don't understand why I try so hard to resist it. But somehow I still feel this deep fear that I am losing something important.
I can hear the faint tapping of rain coming from outside. I try to shake off the nervousness and lift myself out of bed. The world around me seems to move oddly slowly in response to my movement. That's definitely sleep deprivation. I really need to do something about it. Maybe I should go to bed earlier? No. That would look too suspicious. It's only been the second night and Destiny has already walked in on me during a nightmare. I'm pretty sure she recognized me. Warnado came into my room, but I think he was just checking up on things.
I walk over the window. I have no more hope sleeping, so there's no point keeping the curtains closed. I open the curtains and crack the window, so the fresh air from the rain can more easily enter the room.
I open the door to the hallway, but hesitate for a moment. I turn around and nervously pick up the black diamond armor from the floor and put it back on piece by piece. The armor is heavy, but feeling its smooth crystal plating against my skin somehow puts my mind at ease.
I walk down the stairs into the common area of the inn. It seems I'm far from the first person from our group to come down here. Steve, Jennifer, and the others… including Amanda… are all sitting at the table eating. The only person that seems to be missing is Fire, that not-quite enderman halfblood. The food smells strange, but it still makes me salivate.
I walk toward the end of the long table where the group is sitting, and try to act natural. I sit myself down beside Astro at the end of the table, with Warnado and Amanda sitting on the other side. It seems there is starting to be a trend in the seating arrangement.
I try to puff myself up a bit to make myself look more confident, and try to hide the overwhelming tiredness that's plagued me these past few days, in case Destiny's knowledge of my actions has spread and is starting to arouse suspicion. It's hard to even look at Amanda. I can already see a hint of hopelessness in her gaze, and I know my work is fair from over. There will be a third nightmare. And a fourth. And I dread to imagine the suffering she will feel because of me.
I try to slam the door closed on that train of thought and focus my attention on Warnado, making my best attempt to pretend to be more hungry than I actually am. Thanks to the Book's help, I'm at least a better liar than I used to be. And better at managing these disturbing and unproductive thoughts.
"Hey Warnado," I call out, in the most awake yet calm voice I can muster. "Do you think you could get me some soup?"
"You didn't like my tacos yesterday?" Warnado asks, slightly offended, one of his odd culinary creations held in his hand, half-eaten. Amanda is eating one as well.
"Well, it's not because I didn't like your tacos yesterday..." I try my best to try and assure Warnado.
"Just admit it, his tacos were terrible," the Book tells me.
But I can't find it within myself to hurt his feelings. And for the record, they tasted fine.
"I just smelled the food from the kitchen all the way up on the second stairwell, and I really wanted to try it. But if money is a concern for you, then I completely understand."
I'm starting to miss being able to just grab some cooked pork from the farm storage. Depending on other people for food is tiresome.
"Nah, I get you," Warnado says with apparent camaraderie. "I'll magic you a salad instead."
Warnado makes funny wiggling motions with his fingers, and a strange creation appears in his hands. The bottom is yellow like one of his tacos, and the top is filled with pale plant material and a bunch of other things mixed in which I can't identify, but seem similar to the stuff in Warnado's tacos.
"Taco salad. Darn. Was really hoping for something more Italian," Warnado says. "Did you know Italian is an adjective? Anyway, I can never seem to get the bowl right. I tried to make soup once. Let's just say it didn't end well."
Warnado conjures a fork and hands it and the "taco salad" to me. I accept them graciously.
"You do realize this man is not an innocent child?" the Book warns me. "While you eat the food he gives you, he is watching everything you do, studying every word you tell him. He wants to find every reason he can to incriminate you as the Dreamweaver."
Well, in that case, he can incriminate me for eating a salad!
Just as I take my second bite, Kay stands up and speaks.
"Ladies and gentlemen, and other sentient beings equally notable, since we are now all gathered here, except for Fire..." Kay glances across the table, perhaps in suspicion. "I propose we meet after breakfast to discuss some important new details of the dream weaver investigation. Since quite a few of you already know about what happened last night, it would be best to set the record straight, and perhaps in the process unveil some information that could move this investigation forward."
"That sounds reasonable enough," Steve remarks, obviously surprised but unwilling to admit he is not up to speed. "If you don't think it will impede your investigation."
Tyron nods along agreeably.
Shadow speaks: "Fire left earlier this morning to attend the Prophet's sermon, to uncover more information. As I've mentioned before, the Prophet's sermons contain symbolism and themes that are difficult to decipher, but have been shown to accurately predict the future. That kind of knowledge is bound to be useful."
"I suppose it can't be helped," Kay says, "We still have you here, which is close enough... aside from the complication that you're one of our most competent magic users, but inadequate suspicions aside, our investigation must continue. It would be unwise for us to delay discussion until Fire gets back, since we don't know when the Dreamweaver will strike next."
Is that what they call me now? Dreamweaver? This is my name? The Book seems amused.
"Any additional comments or objections?" Kay asks.
After a pause for feedback receives no response, Kay makes a final remark.
"Then it's settled, then. We meet after breakfast."
Kay looks at me and studies me closely, very briefly, before sitting down and returning his attention to his mage friend and his soup. Kay must know what I did. He has to. This isn't just a distrust of endermen. There's no other way he would look at me like that given how little time we've spent near each other.