Grey Haven (Book 1: The Dreamer Chronicles)
Chapter 4

I realized I was staring blankly at Mrs. Z.’s door, zoning out and probably looking weird to anyone who might wander down the hall. With faltering movements, I turned away and walked the large corridor slowly, feet dragging. The things Mrs. Z. hadn’t said were more telling than what she had. I had an odd feeling that her warning was less about the shade I had encountered and more about someone living in this world. It wasn’t a difficult leap to make that she was warning me against a threat at Grey Haven. I also got the feeling she didn’t know who that person was. She didn’t know who she was warning me against, only that the threat was real.

I didn’t understand why someone at Grey Haven would try to hurt me. Even Dana wouldn’t seriously injure me, beyond getting in a fight that might break a few bones. We were too dedicated to our task, too dedicated to helping people. I wanted to know what connected the traitor, if there was one, with the shade that had attacked me. I wanted to know if the person was betraying the school because they were possessed by a shade, or if it was something more personal. Possession was understandable – we dealt with those everyday – but I didn’t see how a fourteen-year-old had done something so horrible that it warranted her murder.

The halls of the school were blurs of dull color as I made my way down the stairs, through the large entranceway, and out the heavy front doors. I had classes to attend – there would be consequences if I didn’t go – but I didn’t feel like sitting in a class and pretending to be okay after such a heavy warning.

I needed out.

The cool wind urged me to shake off the fear and doubt as I stepped outside. It urged me to see beyond strange warnings, unusual attacks, and the survivor’s instinct that tried to convince me to leave. I inhaled the fresh scent of pine trees and mountain air and wandered over to the side of the school, willing myself to stay calm.

Mrs. Z.’s car was gone. A motorcycle had taken its place. I assumed it belonged to the man who had interrupted our meeting. A sharp hill was next to the school on the right, and a meandering path made its way upward. The path was heavily worn; a morbid sign of the use the hill had received over the years. I followed it, knowing I would have privacy at the end of it.

The trees closed me in for the first thirty yards of the upward climb, before they opened out to reveal a large clearing on the mountain. Gravestones were scattered around the uneven, rocky clearing. Unlike the dream, these gravestones were not difficult to read. The dates went back to the early 1800s and the founding of the school. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The cemetery was for those dreamers who didn’t have a family to collect them. It was where I would end up if I didn’t listen to Mrs. Z.’s warning. It was the second place I had visited after Mrs. Z. had brought me to Grey Haven. I had wanted to know the likely outcome of what I had agreed to. I had never felt so close to that outcome before.

I slouched my way over to the oldest part of the cemetery at the top of the hill and sat down next to a gravestone that was for one of the founders of the school. I stayed there until lunch. My thoughts were nowhere near as bright as the sunlight that streamed down on the hill. They circled with suspicion and confusion. A part of me couldn’t help but feel that Mrs. Z. was purposefully leaving me out on vital details. She probably had a good guess about what had happened; she just wasn’t sharing. Either she felt like the truth would scare me or she was more worried than she let on. Neither was particularly good for my survival rate.

At lunchtime, students streamed out to the front of the school, to enjoy the dwindling warmth before it was gone for six months. They scattered out around the property in groups and in pairs. The occasional solitary person created a break in the sea of people. Their laughter and conversation took away the peace of the wind and the trees.

Carrie and Tommy found me not long after. Carrie was angry, while Tommy was irritated at having to climb to his least favorite part of Grey Haven. He hated cemeteries, especially those that were not imaginary. It wasn’t a place he went to willingly. It made me think that Carrie had nagged him into coming with her.

“I told you she would be here,” Carrie said.

“Yeah, you did,” Tommy agreed reluctantly. “Great choice of a hideout,” he added sarcastically. “It’s not like we have to deal with nightmares every night or anything. Why not hang out in a cemetery to catch some sunshine?”

“I’m being morose,” I grumbled petulantly.

“You’re not contemplating leaving again, are you?” Tommy asked, suddenly laser-focused and serious.

“Maybe,” I said.

The truth was that I was still uncertain. Leaving was something I had learned to live with. It was necessary in the world I had left behind. Letting go quickly for survival’s sake was second nature, but a part of me couldn’t find the nerve this time. I liked Grey Haven, despite its flaws. It was the first place I hadn’t wanted to leave the second I had set foot in it. It appealed to the part of me that had always known solitary chaos.

“Did Mrs. Z. yell at you?” Carrie asked, sitting down next to me.

“No,” I admitted. “She gave me a warning.”

“What warning?” Carrie asked.

“To be careful,” I said.

Tommy’s lips twisted up into a mocking smile. “You know to be careful,” Tommy pointed out. “We know to be careful. Warning you to be careful is like telling someone to ‘not eat all the chips in the bag, Tommy, you should learn to share.’ Or ‘don’t drink that week-old soda, Tommy!’ It’s useless advice.”

“I think she was really trying to tell me that someone in Grey Haven was responsible for sending the shade, and that I should watch my back,” I said.

Tommy’s mouth dropped open, while Carrie stared in bewilderment. “Really?” she asked, eyebrows lifting in surprise.

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“Who would do that?” Carrie asked.

“I think that’s the point,” I pointed out. “She doesn’t know.”

“Tell me exactly what she said,” Carrie commanded.

I did, and even told them about the man who had shown up at the end of the conversation. I left nothing out, knowing the details mattered to them. When I finished, Carrie shook her head at the strangeness of the meeting. “It definitely seems like my theory is looking better,” she said smugly. “A shade crossed dreams and attacked you and the others.”

“Mrs. Z. didn’t say you were wrong,” I agreed.

“Don’t encourage the genius,” Tommy said in a poor whisper, trying to lighten the mood. “She’s arrogant enough as it is.”

“Hush,” Carrie commanded him, still focused on Mrs. Z.’s words.

“Yes, ma’am,” Tommy agreed easily.

“We should do our own investigation,” Carrie decided, brightening.

I wasn’t sure if her decision was an attempt to keep me interested in staying at school or from her clear sense of right and wrong. It was possible it was both. Carrie wanted to know who had killed her fellow dreamers, but she also didn’t want me to leave. Tommy and I were her closest friends. She had other friends, of course, but none who she hung out with as regularly as she did us; none who always had her back, no matter the consequences. I ignored the fact that I felt the same way. It only complicated things. It made necessary choices harder. I had to do what was best, what was right.

“You don’t think Mrs. Z. can handle it?” I asked.

“I think that it’s personal,” Carrie said. “You were attacked. What if it’s someone else who can’t hold their own next time?”

“Like Tommy?” I teased.

“Ouch,” Tommy said, clutching his heart.

“Yeah,” Carrie agreed.

I thought about what she was suggesting. Truthfully, I was eager to find out what had happened and who was responsible. I wanted to understand if I had been targeted. I wanted to know if the deaths had been caused by someone I saw every day. The idea of a traitor was something I didn’t take lightly. The situation went beyond me. It was one I hadn’t wanted to be pulled into, but it was one I wouldn’t ignore. Carrie was right. It might be Tommy next time, or her. I was nothing if not loyal.

“What did you find out from Mrs. Waite?” I asked.

Carrie smiled, taking my question as affirmation that I wouldn’t be leaving. She perked up, though her expression was rueful. “She wasn’t a lot of help. Said she was busy. Got kinda shifty when I asked about it. Told me to check out a book from the library.”

“They have a book in the library on shades?” I asked.

“You would know that if you ever went,” Carrie groused. She saw my confusion and explained. “This is Grey Haven, not the public library. We have books that go back to tenth-century shade hunting. Reproductions of course. The originals are closely guarded.”

“Oh…Right,” I said.

Carrie jumped to her feet. Her expression was twice as excited now that she had a purpose. I saw hours of scouring the library in her future. “I’m gonna go see if they have it. Want to come?”

“Can we get food first?” Tommy asked. “I’m starving.”

“Me too,” I agreed.

Carrie was impatient at our desire to do something so human as eating. “Just meet me in the cafeteria,” she commanded. “It won’t take me long to find it.”

“Okay,” I agreed.

Tommy pulled me to my feet with a firm, steady tug, and we ambled away from the gravestones and toward the sounds of laughter and life, his voice a distraction from the darkness. When we reached the front of the school, Carrie marched ahead of us, headed for the library. She took the stairs two at a time, and then disappeared down a hall. Tommy and I walked at a much slower pace, our arms linked companionably.

People kept turning to look at me as I passed. I wasn’t sure if it was because of Dana’s lies about my injuries, or the fact that I had been pulled out of class to talk to Mrs. Z. The secret for the reason of their stares wasn’t nearly as compelling as the reason Mrs. Z. had pulled me out of class in the first place. I could handle stares better than the idea that someone wanted to hunt me down and kill me.

I ignored them, though Tommy seemed to find them amusing. He waved mockingly at the people who stared the hardest, fingers wiggling at them coyly, and they turned away in embarrassment. Tommy’s chuckles filled my ears joyously through the hall and into the large cafeteria.

The cafeteria held stalls for sandwich shops and eateries, with a large area in the middle that held tables and chairs. It was like eating at the mall, unlike the detention centers and public schools I had lived through. Most of the people that operated the shops were from town. They came to the school only for lunch and were not allowed to linger afterwards, not that most of them cared to hang out with a bunch of genius students anyways. They liked the business we brought them and didn’t care to look beyond that.

We had to be careful not to talk about our real purpose around them, a habit I had learned quickly. It helped that it wasn’t that difficult to make-believe we were a school for gifted students. The people who weren’t talking with their friends were buried in their schoolwork or reading from heavy, dull-looking books. Laptops were open as dreamers drafted reports and studied for coming tests. Books took up most of the tables around the food. No one would have known they were studying shades unless they took the time to read over their shoulders.

There was a large group of dreamers clustered around the bulletin board that usually held notices about classes, things for sale, and people searching for lost items. I didn’t have to see the board to know what was on it. They were reading about the people who had died in the night. As we passed the group, I overheard a young girl talking with another girl about the deaths. “Five people in one night…Has that ever happened before? Do you know?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” her friend admitted. “We could ask one of the older dreamers…”

I was careful to avoid their eyes as they turned away from the bulletin board, so they wouldn’t know that I had been eavesdropping, but their words lingered. Five dreamers in a single night. That felt more than deliberate. It was mercenary.

Tommy was hyper-focused on food options, though there was no way he wasn’t also affected by the girls’ words. He was simply better at hiding it. His hand was on his stomach as he eyed the eateries. “Do you want Sully’s again?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, a soft smile blooming.

Sully’s was the most popular sandwich shop at Grey Haven. Everyone at school ate at Sully’s at least once a week. I was fond of the shop for more than the high-quality food.

On his eighteenth birthday, Sully had inherited the shop from his grandfather. Sully’s father hadn’t been interested in anything beyond drinking and sleeping with anyone who wasn’t Sully’s mother, so the shop had gone to Sully. I was glad for his father’s indifference to the family business. It meant that Sully was at Grey Haven five days out of the week.

Sully was tall, with sandy hair and dark, magnetic eyes. He was usually serious, but his serious expression made his smiles even more attractive. He always dressed simply – boots, jeans, and a t-shirt. Today was no exception. My heart beat faster when I saw him at his usual stall, handing out orders to a group of giggling girls with a wry smile. Tommy led the way to the counter.

“Hey,” Sully said when the girls had left. “Usual?” he asked.

Tommy rubbed at his stomach and eyed the food behind Sully with hungry eyes. “Make it a double,” he said. “I’m starving.”

“You got it,” Sully said.

“One for Carrie, too,” I said.

Sully shared one of his rare smiles with me and assembled the sandwiches silently. Tommy paid and took his double order to a table near the center of the cafeteria. I lingered, aching to reach out.

Sully paused before he handed me the other sandwiches. There was a question in his eyes. “Can I see you tonight?” he asked in a whisper that was certain not to travel beyond us.

I smiled, though I was uncertain. We weren’t supposed to date the people who worked at the school – at least not the ones who were unaware of our true purpose. It was too risky. Romance with people on the outside had a way of complicating Grey Haven’s calling. If someone did figure out the truth, and didn’t care to keep their mouth shut, the rumors would spread faster than we could stop them. Sweetbriar was large enough that no one really asked a lot of questions about our school, beyond the occasional urban legend over the unusual amount of deaths, but that didn’t mean we could go around broadcasting our purpose. It wasn’t just that it would put people on edge to have a bunch of nightmare-fighting freaks so close to their homes. The truth could draw more shades to the town. It was why the school had to maintain a security force to keep people out. It was also the reason why Mrs. Z. had to approve the people who were told the truth. Secrecy kept us safe. I was good at secrets. I wasn’t so good at following the rules.

For the first time since I had started sneaking out to see Sully two months ago, I considered not going. The reasons that I shouldn’t see him had never been so clearly in front of my face before. Five people had died. A shade had found its way into a dream it shouldn’t have. Someone might be targeting me.

Mrs. Z.’s warning was in my brain. It urged me to be safe, to be cautious. The rest of me not dominated by survival wanted to get away from the bad news for a while. My morning in the graveyard was proof enough of how badly I needed a break.

“Yeah,” I agreed in response to Sully’s question.

“Seven,” Sully said.

“Okay.”

I hid my smile as I turned away from him and joined Tommy, who was already stuffing his face. Tommy talked around bites of food, about the classes I had missed, his words mangled by the food that dangled out of his mouth.

Carrie returned five minutes later. When she spotted us, she hurried over, her body radiating with excited tension. I pushed her food over to her when she sat, but she ignored it. “The book’s gone,” she whispered.

“Someone checked it out?” I asked.

Carrie shook her head, sending waves of red across her shoulders in emphasis of the point she was about to make. “No. The computer says it’s checked in, but when I went to where it should be, it was gone. I searched everywhere, because idiots misfile books all the time and it’s frustrating as hell, but it’s gone. Someone stole it, I’m sure of it,” Carrie said.

“Who would steal a musty old book about shades?” Tommy asked, nose wrinkling.

“Someone who doesn’t want anyone else to figure out what they’re doing,” I said.

“Exactly,” Carrie said.

“It could have been stolen years ago,” Tommy said. “Or someone was reading it in the library, forgot they hadn’t checked it out, and left with it on accident.”

“It was returned this morning by the same person to check it out,” Carrie said.

“Seems pretty suspicious to me,” I said.

“Not just suspicious. Deliberate,” Carrie said.

“Right,” I agreed.

“What now?” Tommy asked.

“I’ll go back to Mrs. Waite and see if I can catch her when she’s not so busy,” Carrie said. “I’ll keep bugging her until I get the truth.”

“I feel sorry for the old bag,” Tommy said. “Poor dear won’t know how to get rid of you.”

“Better her than us,” I told Tommy.

“Amen,” Tommy said.

Carrie kicked us in the shins with a scowl.

“In the meantime, we’ll keep our eyes open for the book,” I added to Carrie.

Carrie nodded, mollified by our plan, and finally picked up her sandwich.

We let the mystery drop, aware that it would take longer than a day to figure everything out. We would keep searching, but until then, we had to be patient.

When we did find out the truth, the person responsible would have hell to pay for what they had done. I would make sure of it.

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