The Children of Hypnos

Chapter 17: The Amazon vs. The Sandman

Grandpa Al swept back inside with Dr. Wong, the two of them frog-marching Lewis between them, with Wes and the nurse trailing sheepishly behind. Lewis was covered in dirt, grass, and about a gallon of fake blood, though he still had both his arms. When he saw Emery, his expression lifted.

"It actually worked!"

Dr. Wong jerked to a halt, but Grandpa Al released Lewis and swept up to Emery's bedside. Joel coughed and leaned back; Marcia stepped against the wall. Grandpa Al sat on the edge of the bed and reached over, surprisingly gently, to take Emery's chin in his hand and inspect her. He pulled one of her eyelids down with his thumb, then tilted her head to the side and looked at her ear.

"It worked?" he said.

"I feel a lot better, Grandpa."

He moved his hand from her chin to cup the side of her face. His shoulders relaxed. "Why did you follow him into the Dream?"

No "you're smarter than that." No "you know better." No chastisement, no scolding, Only a question asked in innocent worry. Emery flushed and fought her instinct to look away; that meant making eye contact with the others standing around the bed, and she couldn't bear to do that, either.

Grandpa Al said, "Would you let us speak privately for a moment?"

A beat of hesitation passed, then Marcia took Wes by the shoulder and pushed him away from the bed. Jacqueline grabbed Joel next, and the two of them and Kris followed Dr. Wong and the nurse out of the room.

Once they were all gone, Grandpa Al said, "Go ahead."

Emery looked down at her hands in her lap. The bandage around her finger was thick and fat like a big white grub, and she picked at a corner of the tape that stuck up. Grandpa Al's thumb stroked the side of her cheek.

"I didn't want him to get away," she finally said. Her voice came out much smaller than she thought it would. "We had him right there—we were talking to him. When he opened the gateway, I knew the hunters nearby wouldn't reach us in time to follow him through, so I just—I didn't really think about it. There didn't seem like much to think about."

"Is that the only reason?" he said gently.

Tears gathered in her eyes. It was so nice and quiet in the clinic, and nothing was pressing in on her, and the world wasn't churning. He had come into the Dream for her, torn it apart to get her. Grandpa Al, who hadn't entered the Dream in decades. The tears spilled over.

"I thought y-you'd be proud of me. If I caught him."

"Em." He took her face in both his hands now, holding her in place so she couldn't look away, meeting her gaze. "Em, I am always proud of you. I'm proud of you because you try. I'm proud of you because you want things, and you fight for them, and you don't give up at the first sign of resistance. It's such a rare trait; I worry all the time that you'll lose it." He brushed her hair back. "I wish you would follow orders, but that doesn't mean I'm not proud of you. I am. So are your parents. So is Edgar."

Emery tried to stop the tears, but the harder she tried the more they persisted, and they ran down her cheeks and onto Grandpa Al's hands. For the first time in a long time, his presence was only a relief. There was no judgment in his face, no disappointment. He let her cry herself out, then pulled her in for a tight hug.

Grandpa Al pulled back. "Do you remember when you first came here? You wouldn't leave your mother's shadow, and when I tried to introduce myself, you didn't believe me."

Emery sniffled. "I didn't?" She remembered a lot of things about being eight years old and coming to Fenhallow for the first time, but she couldn't remember a time she hadn't trusted Grandpa Al.