“We could go to the Nagalands.” I couldn’t tell if Snake was sincere or mocking me.
“No.”
“Haven’t seen the Shamblings for a while.”
“And risk running into what turned that one area to stone? Or did you forget my ass was ganked there.”
“Your fans in the City…” Snake laughs when I scowl at him and nudges me saying, “Have you lost your taste for adventure?” I glared at him in response.
“A little bird told me it would be prudent to hole up for the night. And I took just long enough to get here to get a taste of why. Call it ‘Dream Weather’ if you will. This is not a night for me to go exploring.” I nudged him in return. “Besides, Guardian, if I get in trouble again, how will that reflect on you? Wouldn’t want you getting such a dressing down, you drop scales.”
“Who would dare!” “A wee little birdie.” He pauses as he understands who I’m referring to.
“Oh. Good point.” Fifty feet of mythic coils spiral around me in a vain attempt to hide the sulking tone. “So. What shall we do while waiting out the hurricane?”
Good question. I kept myself busy by pondering the puzzle that is Horatio. Snake sulked kept me company, laying his pillow against me, and leaning on both pillow and myself. I didn’t mind. It was comforting.
Some time later, I wondered how far the “hurricane” had progressed. Last I saw, it was between worlds, making jumping to other worlds a risky endeavor. I stepped out the limply snoring loops and went to the entrance of the lair.
The storm blew rain sideways. The fire, augmented in its making, was fiercely blown about as if the storm took personal offense to the flame’s persistence. I knew if I took an inch’s worth of movement past the entrance, I’d be in pain for it.
“This is not a time for daring.” Two strong arms embraced me. Two more braced against the entrance. “You do not see it completely.” I didn’t have to turn to know Snake was using his naga form to anchor me.
We watched the angry churning for a while. Then without words we retreated from the entrance. I had many questions, but none of them were pressing. We curled and coiled up together and slid into deeper sleep.
A series of nightmare scenes assaulted me in rapid succession. As fast as I spied the fallacy in one, it would be replaced with another. After the sixth scene, I caught the pattern. Someone is trying to juju me, trying to invoke fear, suspicion, and paranoia.
Someone doesn’t know me very well.
“Horatio!” I feel his presence solidify in the latest nightmare scene. I pick up the anchoring object in the scene that bears the sender’s touch. “Here, make yourself useful. This asshole needs a lesson in consequences. Be imaginative.”
Horatio takes the anchor from me. With ease, he finds the thread leading him to the sender. “How imaginative, Master?”
“As a dear friend of mine would say… ‘Leave them breathing.’”
Horatio bows in obvious glee. “Yes, Master.”
The nightmares came to a stop at once. Well, for me, anyways. A while later, I wake up back in the lair. Snake tells me the storm has mostly passed, but not to leave the lair except for waking. Which the alarm clock enforce