The Children of Hypnos

Chapter 22: Klaus

As they entered, the lights came up. The room was a cube, fifteen by fifteen feet, separated in the middle by a wall of clear Plexiglas. On their side, there was only another folding chair in the corner. On the opposite side was a metal cot frame bolted to the wall, no mattress, blanket, or pillow; a toilet behind the frame; and a small sink.

Klaus sat on the floor against the back wall, long legs stretched out before him, blinking back the sudden light. His clothes were frayed and dirty, his hair unkempt, his jaw scruffy. A bandage covered his head where he'd been bleeding before. His goggles hung around his neck. His eyes, when he managed to open them, gave Emery pause. They were a clear liquid green, pale like the rest of him.

She had only really seen him in flashes and shadows, in the gaps between buildings, as a blur against the scenery. Even in her memories his face was smeared, though he'd been clear in her fever dream. He'd lived in an in-between place, not of the waking world and not of the Dream.

He looked at Marcia first and sat up straight, expression lifting. Then he glanced at Emery and Wes to either side of Marcia and sat back again, retreating into his hunched shoulders.

"Oh," was all he said.

"Klaus Warwick, Emery Ashworth and Wesley Jager." Marcia motioned between them. "You owe them explanations. They stole Lana's keys to get in here, so I think they've earned it."

Klaus's head tipped to the side, expression worried. "Is she...she's not...?"

"Don't worry about Lana," Marcia said. "She's fine."

He relaxed. Looked between the three of them. Frowned. "I'm not sure I've gathered enough information yet to start spreading ideas."

Marcia crossed her arms. "I think you have plenty, or you wouldn't have gone this far."

Klaus scratched at his scruff, looking uninterested.

Emery stepped forward. He heart galloped in her chest. "There was a drawing of my doppelgänger in your dream," she said. "Why? And was that why you were following me?"

Klaus stopped moving. His head was slightly turned, but his eyes shifted to focus on Emery, and the effect sent chills up her spine. It was like being watched by an animal. There was something feral in the way his eyes narrowed, in the stillness of his hands.

"We only have fifteen minutes," Emery said.

Klaus's gaze flicked to Marcia.

"No microphones," she said. "Only cameras."

A long exhale whistled through his nose. "Well. I should probably do it while I'm still lucid."

"What does that mean?" Marcia snapped. "Still lucid?"

Klaus shrugged. "I found a way to keep myself awake. When you're a wanted dreamhunter, and when your dreams are as volatile as mine, it can be more dangerous to go to sleep than it's worth."

"You've been drugging yourself?" Marcia seethed.

"Drugging yourself?" Emery looked between them. "With what? Not sleeping sand, right?"

"Sleeping sand puts you to sleep," Wes said. "That's the whole point. It can't keep you awake."

Klaus frowned. "They were serious about hamstringing the curriculum, weren't they? There are forms of sand capable of keeping the user awake."

"But they're highly addictive," Marcia added, "just like any other kind. They change your brain chemistry, make you rely on them to continue staying awake. All the forms we have now are extremely volatile and unreliable, which means this rat must have come up with something new. What is it? How long have you been using? When was the last time you slept?"