Agent Penchant Downing pressed his dreamcatcher musket against a shoulder, the business end aimed directly at Nolan Erling’s head. “I’m going to count to three. You should be running before I get there.”
Nolan took a step back, bumping into one of his classmates standing behind him.
“Perhaps you might explain what the exercise entails before you start shooting my students.” Ms. Okasha, Nolan’s oneironavigation professor, tried her best to give Penchant a stern look, but the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth made it far less threatening.
Penchant turned and raised an eyebrow at her, to which she returned one of her own. She was young, in her mid-twenties, with a dark complexion and darker hair cropped at the shoulders. She stood two heads shorter than the O-Naut, but she wasn’t backing down from him. Their arched eyebrows battled each other as they engaged in a stare down.
“You know I like to shoot first, explain myself later, Maira.” Penchant leveled a magnetic smile at her.
“Not in my classroom you don’t.” In a blur, she spun at him, plucked the musket from his hands, and twirled away, all before he had a chance to blink. “Now, if you don’t mind, would you please inform the students why I invited you in to guest lecture today?”
Oneironavigation had quickly become one of Nolan’s favorite classes. Ms. Okasha kept things light and fun every lesson, which was a far cry from some of his other subjects, and the practical lessons outnumbered the theoretical, which meant he wasn’t stuck in a boring classroom all day. It also helped that he was actually good at this stuff. Navigating the dream world was one of those skills he was able to do almost instinctively, and, unlike some of his other random abilities, that instinct translated to the classroom. He often scored near the top of his class, and when he’d learned his favorite O-Naut would be dropping in for a lesson, he couldn’t wait to show off his talents to Penchant.
The big guy crossed his arms and stared at the dozen students present. “So Maira informs me that some of you have been wearing your slacker pants to class. They might go on one leg at a time like a regular pair of pants, but the stench of subpar dreaming will not wash out of them. I’m here to rectify that by giving you a shot at some bonus points. Play your cards right, show me some skill, and you may just earn some extra credit today.”
“By letting you shoot us?” The question slipped out before Nolan had a chance to stop it.
“If only it were that easy.” Penchant’s glowing smile turned devious. “I don’t like straightforward lessons. Nothing in the Dreamstream is ever straightforward. Fair warning, though, I am going to keep you on your toes all day long. All you need to know right now is my musket is merely a selection tool. It will be solely responsible for how the next portion of the lesson proceeds. Now, if you don’t mind, Maira.” He held a meaty palm out to the teacher, beckoning for the weapon. She sighed before handing it back to him.
Penchant scratched his chin with his free hand for a moment. “Now, does anyone remember what I was saying about a three count?”
No one had an answer except for their teacher. Ms. Okasha tiptoed behind the big guy and tugged on a giant shoulder as she shouted, “That three seconds isn’t nearly long enough!” She swept his legs out from under him and added, “Run, kids!”
The thud of Agent Downing hitting the ground shook the dreamscape, but it was nothing compared to the rumble that followed. Ms. Okasha’s fingers dug into the dirt, and jagged ridges of rock sprang forth in a line from her fingertips as the students scattered. Making drastic changes to a dreamscape to distract them as they searched for objects within was a favorite tactic of hers. Now, it added cover for them.
Nolan ducked behind a newly formed ridge and ran in the opposite direction. He was certain Penchant would be as good a shot from his butt as he was from his feet, and although he didn’t understand why the man was shooting at them, he didn’t want to be the first to find out. Down in front of the ridge, Ernie Zimmerman, a short, round kid Nolan’s age, took the first hit. Bright pink webbing struck him in the face and pinned him to a nearby rock. A second pink burst took out another student.
Logically, Nolan should have kept his legs moving, but the sight of his struggling classmates distracted him. Ernie wrestled with the webs, though his effort did little. Soon a pink cocoon surrounded him and lofted him into the air. It floated back across the dreamscape and dropped the boy at Penchant’s feet. Another pink bubble joined him, followed by a couple of orange ones, each of them presumably carrying another student. Nolan didn’t need to witness any more to appreciate how the selection was taking place.
They were being paired up via Penchant’s musket.
Cool.
A web breezed by his cheek, a reminder he needed to run. The arid path underfoot turned mountainous, sloping up and away from Nolan. By his best estimation this would be the most logical direction to go. If he could keep Penchant from gaining the high ground, he might last a little longer. Another boy had the same idea. Nolan caught a glimpse of Marty Luna running up ahead, so he sped up to catch him.
Marty was only a year older than Nolan, but he had at least twenty dark hairs sprouting from his chin and a black set of glasses to match. His long strides made him hard to reel in, but Nolan’s feet turned over twice as fast with little effort.
“How’s gravity? Regulated?” Nolan asked as he pulled up alongside him. They’d been taught to test the limitations of their dreamscape early in order to determine the quickest way to navigate. Personal flying was an easy favorite, giving advantages to both quickness and maneuverability.
Marty shook his head. “Sure is. Bet I couldn’t jump more than a foot in the air.”
“Bummer,” Nolan replied. “I think super speed is in play.”
“Not the best dreamscape for it, though.”
Nolan took stock of all the crags and valleys. Every rock and root and crevice presented a trip hazard and made using any sort of speed ill advised. “Any chance we can keep on running forever?”
“Pfft. We’re not getting off that easy. There is bound to be a barrier up, and if not, Downing can just open a switch point to the opposite end.”
Nolan frowned. “He can do that?” But as the question slipped out, he remembered doing that exact thing himself inside the Deathstream several months ago.
“This is Penchant Downing we’re talking about. There’s a reason he’s the best.”
Most of the other students in class viewed Penchant in a reverent light. He had quite the reputation. Some called him untouchable, invincible. Not Nolan. Yeah, Agent Downing was pretty great, and he’d saved Nolan’s butt more than a few times, but he’d seen the man humbled before by more than one thing inside the Dreamstream. Now it was time for Nolan to try his hand at humbling him, too. By outlasting everyone else in this ridiculous game and finding a way to win. Although he wasn’t sure how to win. The rules hadn’t been explained well.
Nolan risked a glance over his shoulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of Penchant’s location. He only caught sight of several yellow webs streaking through the air perpendicular to them. Perfect. He was after someone else. When Nolan turned back around, he crashed right into Marty, who had bounced off an invisible barrier in front of them. They tumbled to the ground together, and Marty rolled off him, holding the bridge of his nose.
“Well, I was right about the barrier,” he said.
Experienced dreamers could easily detect boundaries like these ahead of time, by sensing the somniatic energy, but Nolan often ended up on his butt instead. His energy-detection skills needed a lot of work.
“We’re boxed in,” Nolan said. At the same time, he scanned the rocky outcropping. Two impossibly tall trees shot out of a nearby crack, the needle-like tips piercing a low-hanging cloud. For a moment he contemplated scaling one, but that would only make them sitting ducks. Best to just keep moving along the barrier and away from the last web blast.
Marty’s eyes followed his up the trunk. “Any chance that cloud up there might act as a cloak?”
“Doubt it. At least not to Penchant’s eyes.” Nolan squinted and spotted a figure near the top. “Or mine. Look, someone is already climbing.”
From his vantage point, Nolan could make out who it was. The boy paused, looking down at them. He waved, with a single finger, before disappearing into the cloud.
“We can’t let Parker win this thing,” Marty said, recognizing the ascending boy as their classmate, Parker Bogman.
Parker was the son of the Head of the Nightmare Department, Lester Bogman, and a constant thorn in Nolan’s side. They shared more classes than he thought fair, and Parker’s favorite spare-time activity was making fun of Nolan for being “special.” He’d even spied on Nolan and his friends a few weeks ago as they tracked down several dangerous dream artifacts to combat his grandfather, Drexler. Nolan would give anything for a chainsaw right about now to cut him from his high perch.
“Let’s scope out the tree,” Nolan said. Seeing Parker disappear had changed his mind. He jogged over to the trunk and ran a hand along the bark.
“Sturdy?” Marty asked.
His hands said, yes, but Nolan wanted to be sure. “Won’t know till I kick it.” He squared up and took a step back to line up a strike.
That’s when a yellow web flew right under his nose.
“Son of a slap-happy fisherman! How did I miss that shot?” Penchant knelt along a ridge twenty feet away, staring at the end of his musket as if the faulty equipment might be the cause of the errant web. He patted the barrel and took aim once more.
Unfortunately for Nolan and Marty, the two thin trees did not provide much cover. They lacked any other option, though, so the pair darted behind one as another yellow web splashed against the bark.
“Well, this was fun while it lasted,” Marty said, straightening his glasses.
“We haven’t been hit yet.” Nolan glanced up the tree, to the hazy cloud Parker had disappeared into. “If we run, we’re toast. I say we go up. Take our chances up there.”
Marty studied the same cloud, a scowl lining his face. “Penchant will blast us before we get halfway up.”
“Better than getting blasted while standing around.”
“Maybe he won’t shoot me if I just surrender.”
Across the way, Agent Downing licked his lips, glee dancing along his eyes as he lined up another shot.
“Suit yourself,” Nolan said. He gripped the slick bark and hoisted a foot onto a knobby protuberance. He clambered up a few feet, slowly, as handholds and footholds were hard to come by.
Below him, Marty dodged another blast before emerging from behind the tree with his hands held up in surrender. “You got me, sir. I surr—” Webs hit him square in the chest, cutting off the rest of the sentence.
As a yellow bubble enveloped the boy and carried him off, Penchant stalked forward, a subtle shake of the head accompanying his gait. “A good O-Naut never surrenders, son.”
Nolan remembered the big guy doing so not too long ago, when Relasos has turned him into a bony little weakling, but this might not be the best time to bring that up and add fuel to Penchant’s fire. Besides, during that encounter the O-Naut had only been buying them some time, waiting for an opening to strike back at the Dream God.
“Hopefully I taught you better than that, Nolan.” Agent Downing stepped around the tree, staring up at him.
Nolan tried to scramble to the opposite side, thinking it would be best to keep some wood between him and the O-Naut, but the lack of handholds made movement difficult. On the ground, Penchant circled around the trunk, mirroring his motions with ease. Barely a third of the way up the tree, Nolan knew a losing proposition when he saw one. He’d also seen how Penchant welcomed surrender. That wasn’t an option either. Time to switch tactics.
In his brief time at the DREAM Institute, Nolan had gathered a reputation for acting with little thought, and his detractors accused him of dangerous recklessness. While that might be true, the nice thing about dreaming in a relatively safe environment, such as this schoolscape, was he could be doubly reckless with few repercussions. His tactics didn’t necessarily need to be the smartest ones. They could be absolutely boneheaded, and he would just chalk them up as part of the learning process.
He stopped moving and glanced down at Agent Downing. “I’m a sitting duck up here. Just shoot me and get it over with.”
The O-Naut backed up a few steps. “So disappointing, Nolan.” He took aim, a thick finger gently wrapping around the trigger.
When he fired, Nolan let go, falling five feet as a purple web tore into the bark above him. He planted his feet against the trunk and launched himself out from the tree, straight at Penchant. As tactics go, assaulting the Institute’s best oneironaut head-on might top the list of boneheaded maneuvers. Running would only work so long, though.
The O-Naut swore and tried to squeeze off another shot, but Nolan hit him first. He expected the impact to be about as gentle as crashing into the invisible barrier earlier, but the dreamscape helped him out. The big guy stumbled into a crevice, one ankle twisting as their momentum carried them to the ground. As they tumbled, Nolan made a grab for the musket, one hand gripping the barrel. He tugged and spun away, landing two feet from Penchant in a cloud of dust and utter surprise.
That actually worked.
Nolan scrambled back and brought the weapon up. The surprise attack had caught Penchant off guard, but the O-Naut wouldn’t stay down for long. Nolan fired a shot at him, but missed by three feet, even at such a close distance. Penchant turned and watched it sail off into the sky behind him.
“Brilliant move, Nolan. Too bad you’re a horrible shot.”
He fired again, and this time the big guy had to duck a few inches to avoid the projectile.
“You might want to go back to running. This isn’t working at all.” Penchant marched forward and held out a hand. “Give me my stuff back, and I promise not to hurt you. Too badly.”
It’s just a dream. Penchant can’t really hurt me, Nolan told himself. Never mind he’d encountered murderous nightmares and soul-sucking creatures capable of doing just that in his dreams before. This was Agent Downing, though. The big guy liked him. And surely there had to be a rule about teachers attacking students, even if it was in the Dreamstream. Or maybe there wasn’t. Penchant had basically been hunting all of them across the dreamscape up to this point.
So Nolan pulled the trigger one more time. Penchant rolled to his left, easily avoiding the webs. Then he came straight at Nolan, spearing him before he could squeeze off another shot. The pain was incredible. Penchant’s shoulder could likely double as a battering ram to storm medieval castles. Nolan’s vision blurred, and he heard the musket clatter against some nearby rocks. By the time he recovered enough to look up, two blurry, hulking O-Nauts swam across his field of view, eventually merging into a single, impressed-looking Penchant Downing.
“That takes some grapefruits coming after me, kid.” He’d reclaimed the weapon and had it pointed at Nolan’s face again. “I’ll take that into consideration during the final grading.”
Penchant fired, and the webbing knocked him back several feet as it turned his vision dark once more. The strands formed their own cocoon in seconds, lifting him up and across the dreamscape. A minute or two later the bubble deposited him on the ground, but the webs kept him sealed in darkness. Nolan tried to pry the weave apart, but his fingers made no progress, telling him he would be stuck here for some time.
So he waited in the dark until he heard a boot crunch down and Penchant’s muffled voice. “All right, class. I have to say, I very much enjoyed the selection process. It’s not often they allow me to shoot students, but I assured Ms. Okasha those webs were harmless and no actual harm would come to any of you.”
Nolan rubbed his sore stomach, where he was pretty sure Penchant’s shoulder had left a dark bruise. He wouldn’t be surprised if a kidney hadn’t squirted out the back of his avatar on impact either.
“If you did not deduce how this process was going down during your frantic flight from my musket, I’m going to let you know right now. You’ve been paired up in the order you were caught, and when I remove the webbing, you’ll find yourself sitting next to your partner for the second half of the lesson.”
With luck, Nolan and Marty would be partnered up, since they had both been captured in succession. Marty was bright, with a talent for navigation rivaling Nolan’s own. Plus, the kid’s father worked in the Creation Department, which meant he had been exposed to the ins and outs of the Dreamstream from a young age, and that knowledge would always come in handy. Especially given Nolan’s relative naivety surrounding all things dream related.
Instead, when his webs retreated, he found himself staring at a thin boy with a crooked nose and black hair that curled down to his eyebrows. Nolan felt sick, and the look of disgust on the boy’s face indicated the feeling was mutual.
“No,” Parker and Nolan said in unison.