Dreamland (Riley Bloom #3)(33)

Satchel had grown so used to his views, the fearful ideas his parents had drilled into him, that it was hard, if not impossible, for him to see another way. And there’s no doubt that having felt so powerless in life, he’d come to enjoy the power he wielded over all those un-suspecting dreamers. As far as he was concerned, it was a lot to give up.

Dreamweaving was his life. Er, make that his after life. Without it, he had no idea what to do with himself.

Kind of like how I was with Soul Catching.

But if it was time for me to make a new start, then it was definitely time for him too.

We locked eyes, and I knew if I didn’t say something quick, something positive, upbeat, and encouraging—something that

would give him the final push that he needed—well then I’d lose him completely.

And while I had no idea what I might say, I decided to trust that the right words would find me—just like they often did when I was in the middle of a Soul Catch.

But this was no Soul Catch—or at least not officially anyway. Once again, I’d barged in where I didn’t belong. I’d taken on a case without the Council’s consent.

Which means the second I opened my mouth, the only sound that came out was a horrible croak.

A horrible croak that was soon followed by a high-pitched gasp when Balthazar stepped out of the shadows and made for the stage.

He strode toward me, dressed in the exact same uniform he’d worn earlier—the buttons on his shiny blue shirt still threatening to pop, his knee-high boots tapping hard against the floor, and I couldn’t help but wonder just how long I’d been there. Had Dreamland officially opened for business again—or had Balthazar sensed some sort of trouble and come straight from his bed?

He looked at me, his gaze holding more warmth than I would’ve expected when he said, “The boy is not ready. These things cannot be forced.”

That’s what you think.

I turned toward Satchel, eager to prove Balthazar wrong, but all I found was an empty space where Satchel once stood. And no matter how long I stared, it only confirmed what I already knew—Satchel was gone.

I whirled on Balthazar, furious with him for interfering, for butting in at the most crucial moment. I mean, seriously—if anyone should understand the concept of delicate timing it should be him. Hadn’t he just spent an entire afternoon lecturing me about the importance of timing, of getting the landing just right? And yet, when it came to the scene I was directing, he just stormed right in without a thought.

“This is your fault!” I yelled, my voice containing a fury that surprised even me. “He was this close to changing!” I thrust my hand toward him, pinching my forefinger and thumb closely together. “I’d almost convinced him—and I would have too—I definitely would have—if you hadn’t barreled right in and wrecked the whole thing!” My cheeks grew hot and flushed, my throat grew all lumpy and hoarse, as my eyes stung from the threat of crystalline tears.

Hardly able to believe just how close I’d come—only to lose it all in an instant.

But I didn’t cry. Instead I turned to the side and blinked and blinked until I was ready to face him again.

“Don’t you get it?” I said, my voice still shaky. “Satchel was my big chance! He was my big opportunity to advance myself straight into being thirteen! And I was so close—I was almost there—until you came along and wrecked everything.” I shook my head, swiped a hand across my eyes. “You just had to butt in, and now … and now I’m right back where I started. Stuck as a scrawny, little twelve-year-old kid!” I stared at my feet, waving my hand before me as though erasing the words. There was no point in continuing, no point in anything.

And as far as Balthazar was concerned, well I was really and truly over him. Everything bad could be traced back to him. If he’d just let me have my dream jump like I’d asked from the start, then the whole mess with Satchel never would’ve occurred.

I’d be back home, safe in my bed, dreaming sweet dreams after having gotten some good and solid advice from my sister.

But nooooo! Thanks to Mr. Skunk Hair, I was right back where I started, which was pretty much nowhere at all. Feeling so dis-gusted with myself and my stupid, level 1.5, barely there glow, I tugged hard on my sleeves, yanking them over my knuckles and down past my fingertips so I wouldn’t be reminded of just how far I had to go.

Then I unstuck my bolted-down feet and made for the doorway.

Stopping just shy of it when Balthazar said, “You think I ignore Satchel? You think I did not try to speak with him, to reason with him? You think that you are the only one who has failed with the boy?”

I stood very still, thinking: Um, yeah, that’s pretty much exactly what I thought. It never even occurred to me that there might be others who knew what Satchel was up to.

But it’s not like it made a difference. It was what it was.

“Dreamland is my creation, and at one time Satchel was my number-one apprentice,” Balthazar said, an unmistakable hint of pride in his voice. “Nothing can happen here that I am not aware of.”

“Then why haven’t you stopped him?” I turned, but the second my eyes met his, I already knew. Free will, it ruled everything.

I shook my head and moved for the doorway. Removing the first slat and placing it on the floor when he said, “You know, Riley, you will never turn thirteen this way.” I glanced over my shoulder just in time to catch the concerned look that he shot me.