was almost tangible. It was like a prickling feeling at the back of his mind; an itch that could not be scratched.
‘Can you feel that?’ he asked, looking at Tristram, who was suddenly tense and alert.
‘It’s what I’ve been feeling the whole time we’ve been here,’ replied their tutor. ‘I’ve been ignoring it for a while as it seemed to be fading away, but now it’s back in earnest. So much so that even you can feel it. Something’s not right.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Daisy, who, for once, was not smiling.
‘Well, it is said that whenever someone Dreamweaves it causes a disruption in the fabric of the story. If that disturbance is great enough it can be felt by others in the dream. This is mostly just conjecture, but some work has been done to see whether there is any truth to it. Personally, I think there’s got to be something going on. The amount of energy used when Dreamweaving is quite considerable, as you have already discovered, and that energy has got to go somewhere.’
‘So you think someone else has been Dreamweaving here and we’re feeling the effects?’ asked Daisy.
Tristram nodded.
‘I already know that one of Rasputin’s lackeys was seen entering this dream and I’d bet my life that they are still here. The problem is, I don’t know which one.’
He stared out of the window into the swirling mist in a vain attempt to catch a glimpse what might be lying in wait up ahead. Ryan slouched down in his seat, stretching his feet out so they were resting next to Tristram.
‘Does it really matter?’ he asked.
‘Hmm?’ murmured his tutor.
‘Does it really matter who it is?’ Ryan repeated.
‘Indeed it does,’ said Tristram grimly. ‘Rasputin’s forces have increased rapidly over the past few years, though many would attest that the quality of his recruiting, or lack thereof, has diluted his overall capabilities. However, there are plenty of his followers I would rather not run in to unprepared, especially with the two of you in tow. Your friend Damocles, for one.’
Ryan could still picture the bull-man. His astonishing yellow eyes and towering frame made him an intimidating creature to behold, and yet strangely the thought of him did not give Ryan any cause for concern. Damocles had done him no wrong, save try to sway him to Rasputin’s cause, which in turn was exactly what Tristram had done for the Academy.
‘Is he powerful?’ he asked, just out of interest.
‘Extremely. He’s bad enough to tackle in the Nightmare Realm, let alone in a dream. His Physical Evolution skills are way beyond mine; probably anyone in the Academy.’
‘So what’s your speciality?’ asked Ryan. ‘Surely you could take him on with your skills?’
‘Ah, now there you’ve hit upon our little problem,’ said Tristram earnestly. ‘You guys have seen me do things; little ‘weaves, which might seem impressive to newcomers such as yourselves, but a Dreamweaver who has specialised in a particular discipline is capable of so much more. My problem is that I’ve never specialised. I’m a Jack-of-all-trades and a master of nothing, as it were. That’s why I’ve become an Inductor; I can teach a bit of everything, a bit like those supply teachers you get at school.’
‘Why didn’t you?’ asked Daisy.
‘Specialise? I don’t know. I guess I never really found the time. Don’t get me wrong; I worked hard when I was in your position, and it got me where I am today, for which I’m thankful. The thing is, without trying to sound big-headed…’
‘… which you will,’ smirked Ryan.
Tristram gave a small smile.
‘Yes, probably, but when I started I found that I was naturally good at lots of things and I tried to pursue them all, rather than concentrating on one or two. That’s where I went wrong; I tried to be the best at everything and failed on all counts. It was a bit of a bummer, to be honest.’
‘Surely you could still specialise?’ suggested Daisy, with a kind look.
‘Yeah, you said yourself that it’s never too late to learn,’ added Ryan.
‘You’re right, I did, and I do still learn new things. I have a few nifty tricks up my sleeve, but I actually get a great deal of satisfaction from working with newcomers. You see, even Dreamweavers can be narrow-minded sometimes. Many are well and truly stuck in their ways, so it’s the blank canvasses – those who see the opportunities rather than the limitations – whom I find inspiring.’
There was a period of silence while the others digested all this. For Ryan in particular, the explanation did not sit right. It was like the people who grew up to become school teachers. What was the point? Why spend all that time in a hell-hole only to go straight back and spend the rest of your life there? He knew he would never be able to do it. There was too much cool stuff to see and do. It was just wrong.
Suddenly the prickling feeling at the back of his mind intensified, and he sat up and started scratching wildly at the back of his head, trying to reach the source of the irritation. Daisy and Tristram were experiencing similar discomfort, both of them pulling some rather strange faces as they fought the sensation. A few moments later it subsided back down to just a tickle, but Tristram’s face remained gravely concerned.
‘I’m getting you two out of here,’ he said firmly. ‘Something is seriously amiss and I can’t warrant endangering either of you any further.’
‘But we’re here because we want to be,’ protested Ryan. ‘What about Soph? If she’s in trouble we want to help her.’
‘I know you do, but this is beyond either of you now. For all I know, it’s beyond me too.’
‘All the more reason for us to stick around,’ said Ryan defiantly.
Tristram smiled at them both.
‘Look, you two have been great company. We’ve had a lot of fun up until now and I’d hate for it to all go wrong. I’ll be okay, don’t you worry. The Academy will be watching what’s going on and will respond if necessary. I’m afraid it’s more than my job is worth to keep you here.’
Daisy smiled back and nodded her understanding, while Ryan crossed his arms and pulled the best sulk he could. Being told he couldn’t do something was like a red rag to him, but it was a testament to his respect for Tristram that he didn’t pursue it any further.
Their tutor got to his feet, causing the small car to swing in a rather alarming manner as his weight shifted across to their side. Ryan held on to the bench again as Tristram placed a hand, open palmed, on his head.
‘Now, don’t try to resist it,’ he said quietly. ‘There may be a slight pushing sensation in your mind. Just try to clear your thoughts and relax.’
Though the bouncing and swinging had subsided somewhat, relaxation was still the last thing on Ryan’s mind. He closed his eyes and tried to block out all his senses. The tingling feeling was still lurking, letting him know that whatever mischief was afoot was still there. After a few moments it started to give way to another sensation. It was a gentle pulsing, or kneading, and it was strangely soothing; almost as if his brain was being massaged around his cranium. It felt wrong, but in a bizarrely nice way.
Suddenly Ryan felt a real push and heard Tristram say ‘Bugger!’ quite loudly. He opened his eyes and found that his was still in the cable car, with Daisy sitting to his left and Tristram standing in front of them. He wasn’t sure whether to feel disappointed or relieved.
‘What’s the matter Tristram?’ asked Daisy. Their tutor was staring at his hands in puzzlement.
‘I… I’m not sure,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘It should have worked. I’ve performed Expulsion a hundred times. It should have worked.’
‘Well, it didn’t,’ said Ryan helpfully.
‘Maybe if I do just one of you,’ he said.
He put his hand on Daisy’s head and concentrated for a few moments, but nothing happened apart from a slight change in the girl’s complexion – from white to very white. He then tried again on Ryan, who felt the same massaging sensation, but this time it was much rougher.
‘Hey, knock it o
ff,’ he said, twisting his head to one side. ‘That’s my brain in there, you know.’
Tristram looked utterly baffled by what was going on. He staggered back down to his seat and continued to stare at his open palms in total bemusement.
‘It should have worked,’ he said again.
Ryan was in no mood to offer sympathy, following what he felt had been a minor violation of his mind.
‘Well, it didn’t,’ he repeated. ‘It looks like you’re stuck with us, I’m afraid.’
Tristram looked from him to Daisy and back again, momentarily lost. Then he seemed to collect himself and gave a resigned sigh.
‘Yes, it looks like I am,’ he said quietly. ‘Though I greatly enjoy your company, this is really not ideal. All joking aside, I honestly don’t know what is happening here now, and I’ve got a horrible feeling we’re well and truly in the brown stuff. I want you both to stick close, whatever happens. And keep your wits about you.’
Ryan slouched down in his seat again and put his hands behind his head.
‘Relax Tristram,’ he said. ‘It’s just a bunch of over-sized rodents. What the hell are they going to do to us?’
But, for once, Ryan’s blasé attitude did not coax a smile out of Tristram. He sat, grim-faced, lost deep within his own thoughts. Ryan stared through the glass and wondered how long it would be until they could get out of their tiny, hanging prison.
They had all but ceased climbing now, and had the sky been clear they would have been able to appreciate the