18. A Dream Stands Alone
NiGHTS had been reasonably amused by the race, and highly amused by the response of the crowds and the other racers to the freezing of the mud beneath the track. NiGHTS didn't entirely understand why the track had hot, bubbling mud below it, when it clearly should have been molten ore - in fact the Nightmaren's initial thought had been to convert the mud to actual ore, until NiGHTS realized that the dokan falling off the track at that same time wouldn't survive contact with the ore– come to think of it, that's probably why it wasn't ore in the first place. But why have anything at all, then?
But humans and dokan were often incomprehensible, and the unexpected shift in the weather was more interesting to the Nightmaren. Weather in Nightopia was generally clear and calm, if not actually sunny, but occasionally windy. It was in Nightmare that one was apt to find storms or fog, and the dark clouds and wind-whipped rain NiGHTS now encountered would fit all too neatly into that darker world. However, the essential unreality of Nightmare was such that rain was not truly 'wet' any more than water was, and this chill dampness was far more tangible than any NiGHTS had encountered before. Exhilarated by the novelty, NiGHTS stepped on the hoverboard again and went rocketing through the rain, climbing high enough to slide into the lower wisps of cloud. Yikes! It's WET! Clouds at home are wispy bits of fluff! Light flashed inside the clouds once, twice, and a large bolt of lightning stabbed up from the ground several miles from NiGHTS' location. Even that far away, NiGHTS could feel the static, and the hoverboard faltered. Lightning in Nightmare was not hazardous to Nightmarens, but NiGHTS decided not to find out if Earthly lightning was the same. Frying to a crisp did not sound at all amusing, at least on the part of the principle victim. NiGHTS dismissed the board, was mildly surprised when it actually vanished as commanded, and headed away from the lightning-generating part of the storm. The wind shoved the Nightmaren along as if it too was eager to be out of reach.
I wish Octopaw were here, NiGHTS thought suddenly. It's gotten so easy to follow his trail; trying to do it in this storm would be a challenge, and great fun. Octopaw was a timid little dream octopus, who left a trail of orange hoops in midair when he traveled. Generally NiGHTS challenged dreamers to try to match NiGHTS' own ability at ducking through the hoops and collecting dream chips in rapid succession while they were Dualized. It built confidence in the Dreamer, both self confidence and trust in NiGHTS, which was critical in the lessons they had to learn.
Oh yes, I know about the lessons, and how Wizeman is supposed to play the evil villain to show the dreamers what they must do and spur them on to accomplish it, but I also know that Wizeman is by no means playing. Which is why I get dragged into the whole affair. I shouldn't have to spend my time making sure Wizeman doesn't do more than scare them with the threat of capturing their Ideya. Reala doesn't think I know, but I do, even as he schemes to leash me again so that Wizeman can take over everything at will. But that's not going to happen, even though I have to keep sacrificing my free time to fight them back.
The question though, was what was Wizeman trying to do? Breaking through into the waking world was certainly an accomplishment, but what was the end goal? Wizeman isn't the sort to want random terror, no matter what image he might display for the Dreamers. Tails' Nightmaren attackers were doing what they'd been ordered to do; the first ones that Sonic encountered were after the Dreamcaster, which Wizeman doubtless wanted back. But the ones that Sonic fought off at the playground were simply running loose– and Wizeman never, ever leaves his creations to run loose.
Except for the one that ran away completely, and he'll snatch me back if he ever gets the chance. And then would come a final dissolution, for there was no way that Wizeman would ever trust NiGHTS not to run wild again, no matter how chained up and mind-controlled. NiGHTS shivered. I saw it happen to the others. He will not do the same to me! Only Reala, of all the first-level Nightmarens, had stayed loyal, and NiGHTS occasionally wondered what flaw had kept him that way. Perhaps the same flaw that made him 'male', for alone of all the first-level Nightmarens, Reala seemed to have a fixed gender, that did not change with the Dreamer's perceptions. Helen, Will, Maria and Charlie, Claire and Elliot, Tails and Amy all saw Reala as a 'he' although NiGHTS was perceived as female by half of them.
Something moved rapidly below NiGHTS, but was gone before the jester could see it clearly. It did interrupt the Nightmaren's brooding, however, and NiGHTS dropped rapidly down to treetop level. Adopting a more cautious approach, NiGHTS glided carefully through the branches, occasionally landing to step from limb to limb where there was no room to fly.
Several short chains of golden rings glowed in the darkness below the rain-drenched canopy.
And then the furthest chain winked out, one after the other, as a shadow moved across them. The Nightmaren edged quietly closer, but the mysterious collector was gone. Another chain came into view as NiGHTS moved, and also vanished 1-2-3. Moving as stealthily as possible, NiGHTS settled on a branch directly above the nearest set of rings. The rain trickled and dripped on leaves and branches but didn't seem to touch the clear golden glow, which spotlighted its sources but cast little light into the darkness. Fortunately, Nightmarens had excellent night vision.
The shadowy form whipped out of the woods, raced along the ring trail, and extinguished each shiny loop as it reached it, leaving only a faint melody behind. NiGHTS waited until it was clear that the Weasong was gone, then floated down to the ground. The third-level Nightmaren did not return, but neither did the rings, though the jester waited for several times the normal 'recharge' period. NiGHTS wasn't certain what caused the rings to form, but had noticed that after a (usually short) period of time they tended to reappear in the same spots, or nearly so. This time, they did not.
NiGHTS floated slowly along where the rings had been. "The power's gone," the Nightmaren said thoughtfully. One thing NiGHTS had discovered while helping Dreamers was that often, speaking a problem aloud seemed to help inspire a solution. In this case, the Dreamer was several miles away, but perhaps speaking to oneself worked as well. "There should be a faint seepage here, as there was along the other lines, that permits entry of the energy that concretes into the rings. . . ." Chaos energy, Tails and the others had called it. The energy that underlay the world, perhaps? But the rings were being collected and the seeps themselves stolen? Or blocked, somehow?
"That was a Weasong. They hunt Dreamers who weasel out of music lessons or practices, stealing the notes off their sheet music or worldstaves. But why collect rings?"
Worldstaves were musical staves made of dreamstuff and blown up huge; dreams vary from Dreamer to Dreamer, but typically the musical notes on dreamstaves needed to be played or physically tagged in sequence to avoid some calamity - and of course if the Weasongs stole the notes then the Dreamer couldn't play them. NiGHTS floated to where (the jester thought) several other chains had been, but was unable to find any energy seeps there either. "Even if the Weasongs confused the rings with notes, how did they stop the energy leaks?"
NiGHTS rose into the air just enough to clear the trees, and skimmed to the edge of the forest. Not a ring was to be seen in clearings or among the boughs, but there were two chains a hundred yards or so beyond the woods. NiGHTS darted out to them, reached a hand down to catch up the rings in one line, then reversed and retraced the line, feeling the faint aura of Chaos energy left behind. The jester than dropped almost to the ground beside the other set of rings and felt between the golden tori, again detecting the seeping energy. Back to the previous line, and the aura was still there; it did not appear to fade after the rings were removed.
NiGHTS sat back on thin air, idly rattling the rings around one wrist and thinking hard. A soft chorus of notes sounded, and the Nightmaren twisted quickly to meet a Weasong's hard stare. The third-level Nightmaren stood poised on its rearmost two pairs of legs, the uppermost pair holding a ring in each claw, and the second pair folded across its lower chest, encircled by dozens more. More notes spilled into the air as the violet, weasel-shaped head waved from side-to-side on the long neck, but the blank-eyed stare never left NiGHTS' face. The volume of the music grew as more Weasongs emerged from the forest, rippling on their eight legs like caterpillars. The ring-bearer slipped back into the growing crowd as NiGHTS rose to a standing posture, glaring back at a dozen pairs of blank white eyes. The music grew harsher and darker as the Weasongs began to circle around their intended prey, bearing fangs that were far too large to have been concealed in their closed mouths. NiGHTS summoned the invisible flute (surprisingly hard to do without closing one's eyes!) and began to play an answering challenge. A Weasong leapt, and NiGHTS slipped sideways, then took a quick loop around the beast. The paralooped Nightmaren vanished, but several more leaped at the jester. Once they had been similarly vanquished, the rest of the pack fell back. They milled about each other like termites, caught between the urge to attack and the urge to flee. NiGHTS (who had kept playing the entire time) sharpened the tune from the flute, playing shriller, staccato notes. The Weasongs melodies went flat and muted in response. They were about to leave, clearly.
But then came a bass rumble through the air, like thunder. NiGHTS could feel the sound from sternum to boot tips. Uh-oh. NiGHTS increased the tempo and threat of the flute music. If I can just get them to leave . . .
Too late. Emboldened by the approaching rumbles, the Weasongs surged forward again to attack. NiGHTS spun and looped frantically, trying to get clear of them to face the approaching musician undistracted. Drums throbbed deeply, and now higher, mid-staff notes could be heard as well, tubas and trumpets, cellos and violins - an entire symphony of dangerously exciting music; the kind that tells the audience that the movie hero is in BIG trouble. And then, accompanied by the snapping of tree trunks as well as its own polyphonic chorus, Sonatapede emerged from the forest.
NiGHTS managed to dodge the last three Weasongs and fell back a hundred feet, evaluating the situation. Sonatapede was a second-level Nightmaren, essentially a nightmarish version of a centipede, except that for every pair of legs that touched the ground (when the beast wasn't flying) another pair held or played some sort of instrument. Its not-so-tiny spiracles, holes used by real centipedes for breathing provided the 'breath' for flutes, trumpets, saxophones, and other woodwinds or brass instruments, while several pairs of legs pounded desperately on pianos and organs braced on the segmented back by still more legs. As with some of the other second-levels, the trick to defeating Sonatapede was to break it up first, by tagging it with a paraloop, which unraveled it into a worldstaff; the Dreamer then had to play the scribed melody on an instrument of their own before the creature could reorganize itself back to its proper form. Except that in this case, there is no Dreamer; and this is certainly no Nightmare of Tails'! This thing must be acting on Wizeman's orders, but– AHA! NiGHTS suddenly realized what the beast was doing, if not why. Every one of Sonatapede's legs had at least one and usually several gold rings around it. Some legs, in fact, were nearly rigid, sheathed from 'shoulder' to claw in the things. Sonatapede glared at NiGHTS with its tiny eyes, then surged forward, spiky mandibles wide to bite.
"Come on, then!," NiGHTS crowed and looped up and around, gaining height. The centipede halted below, instruments bellowing out a challenge. NiGHTS drove down and paralooped near the middle of the creature. Half a dozen or so rings flared and vanished, and the non-broken up opponent whipped its head around and snapped hard, driving several spikes into NiGHTS calf. NiGHTS gasped, and tried to pull away but the fire and ice jolting from the leg made the jester reconsider - FAST.
That . . . must . . . be . . . pain. Huh, even my thoughts are gasping. Pain was a dimly understood concept in the dream worlds; there were punishments and tortures that no daylander could understand, but hitherto NiGHTS had known physical pain more from Dreamer's memories than from personal experience. Uncertain how to react - pulling away was clearly bad! - NiGHTS banged a fist against one of the mandibles. Startled, Sonatapede let go, and the jester shot rapidly upwards. Pausing at a safe height, NiGHTS looked at the damaged leg. No blood, of course, but three holes were punched right through and another pair showed as deep imprints. NiGHTS touched the holes, tentatively, and two of the gold rings the Nightmaren was still carrying flashed and vanished, as did the injuries. NiGHTS blinked at the remaining rings, then looked down at the centipede, who did not appear to be able to get off the ground in this world. Well, that's good, at least. And I know what I need to do now.
NiGHTS dove at Sonatapede, looped and darted back up to evade the return strike, then dipped down again. And again. After a number of runs, the rings had vanished along one whole side of the beast. NiGHTS swooped down again, looped - and Sonatapede unraveled like a worn sock, instruments falling everywhere as the strands of dreamstuff rearranged themselves into a shining silver music staff with golden notes strung along it. Immediately NiGHTS summoned the flute and started to play.
When NiGHTS had aided Dreamers against this particular second-level, the worldstaff had formed and held motionless for thirty seconds or so, then collapsed back into centipede form with the instruments popping back to their places as dream things do. This time, the staff itself writhed like a centipede, making it difficult to read the notes held thereon. NiGHTS misplayed one, two, three notes, and Sonatapede was itself again, grounded, instrument-bedecked, and furious. With a dissonant fanfare, it charged, and attempted to jump at its foe, which failed rather miserably. Sonatapede blew another blast and rippled along below NiGHTS playing what was surely a medley of insults.
NiGHTS made a face as only a dream-creature could, then repeated the dive-and-paraloop maneuver. Sonatapede, protections already removed, dissolved into the Worldstaff again. NiGHTS played the resultant score frantically, but again could not read all the notes on the heaving lines correctly. At least I seem to have started where I left off before. I didn't have to go back to the beginning. Oh, look. Reinforcements, what fun. As Sonatapede reformed, a swarm of Weasongs boiled out of the woods and wove themselves around the many legs of the monster. Abruptly, two of the legs snatched a Weasong and hurled it up through the air. Well, I had been thinking I was bored. NiGHTS dove in again, now having to weave through flying Weasongs, who managed to drift down rather than falling to the ground. The resulting reduction in speed gave Sonatapede a chance to eel around and snap at the jester, cutting the attack short. Still, after several foiled attempts NiGHTS managed to get the Worldstaff to reappear. The problem now was that the air was full of drifting, snapping Weasongs, who both obscured the musical score and distracted the musician. It took two more tries for NiGHTS to finish the tune and see both the second-level Nightmaren and its third-level compatriots puff into vapor. Flopping back in midair, the Jester caught sight of a darker shape above.
"Reala!" NiGHTS challenged, rising up to the level of the other first-level. "What are you doing here? Are you the one who sent Sonatapede to collect the rings?"
Reala's expression of distaste shifted to surprise. "Rings? What are you talking about?" NiGHTS scowled, but got no sense that the other was dissembling. Reala appeared to genuinely have no idea. Which was unusual . . . and troubling. NiGHTS hated being troubled.
"The golden rings, the ones made of what the daylanders call Chaos energy. The Weasongs were collecting them for Sonatapede, and somehow blocking the seeps that form them." NiGHTS shook the arm that still had a few encircling it. The other's blue eyes snapped to the softly chiming tori, then Reala's expression went unreadable. His sense suggested he was deeply troubled himself.
The red and black jester shook his head. "I give you my word on this, dear sibling, this is none of my doing." A long pause, then he added slowly. "Or knowing. Our Master seems to be playing his own games at the moment."
Uncharacteristically grave, NiGHTS eyed Reala. "I thought you were Wizeman's primary seneschal. You know everything that he does, and give the actual orders."
Reala's expression matched NiGHTS'. "I thought so too." He pulled a small object out of his vest pocket and turned it in his fingers. "I . . . do not like what seems to be going on here. Since you do not seem to be needed at the moment by your Dreamer . . . would you be willing to take this, and tell me what you can find? I fear that Master Wizeman intends to overturn all the worlds; I do not know if that can be done, but I fear the attempt could damage more worlds than ours and this. We might both find freedom from our Master in dissolution of all we know."
NiGHTS took the small talisman, which resembled the Dreamcaster, but carried far less power. It would allow communication between the two. It would also allow Reala to track him, but suddenly that was of little import. Dropping it into a boot, the purple jester nodded gravely at the crimson one. "I will look, and tell you what I find."