As Zamara fell, ice crystals began to form in the corner of her eyes. She straightened like an arrow towards her target as vast skyscrapers rushed passed her peripheral. She got closer and closer to the man falling. The ground was growing, rushing ever larger. She clutched her arms around him, grabbed her tether, and used it as an anchor to fling them both sideways into a window of a building. The fall wouldn’t hurt the man nearly as much as it hurt her, for this was his dream. 

Zamara pulled a sharp thin splinter of glass from her almond-colored arm, and she grunted as the pain shot up her entire body. The loose-fitting, shorts and short-sleeved shirt that she wore were not doing her any favors.

She looked at the disheveled man she had just saved. He was a tall, lanky, and pale individual with dark brown hair and sweat flooding his brow. In a slow staccato voice, she asked the man, “What’s your name?” 

“What?” The man asked as a ball of disorientation racked him, “My name? Paul, I think?” Paul's words lingered on his lips as if he’d had a bit too much to drink the night before, and asked languidly, “Where are we?  What’s going on?”

Zamara softened her voice, hopefully sounding maternal, “Paul, I need you to tell me where we are. Look around. What do you recognize?” 

Disconsorted that he didn’t get a full answer, Paul still decided to look around the room. He peered at the broken window and then at the scattered and flying papers strewn about the floor. “Wait.” He said,  “This is my office.” His eyes sporadically shot from form to form, “These are my reports! I need them for the meeting today with Mr. Konlack. Where...”

Zamara grabbed his shoulders and shook him from his bout of hysteria. Trying to keep a dreaming man on track was much like trying to keep someone with dementia in the present. Sometimes it was best to play along. “Paul, listen to me. I know it’s confusing right now, but I think you put your reports in the safe.” As she said the words she saw a safe materialize on the wall behind him. 

He beamed at her, “The safe! Of course, thanks love!” He turned around and started to fiddle with the combination on the safe. The living can’t read in dreams, so he couldn’t actually read the numbers or letters on the safe, but all that mattered was that he thought he could open it. With a few quick rotations, it made a satisfying click, and her prize lay inside.

A few mismanaged forms surrounded the orb-shaped essence. The orb gave off a pale white pulsating glow. Goosebumps formed on Zamara’s arms as her belly rumbled at the site of the orb. It had been several weeks since the crew had such a wonderful meal. 

Paul grabbed the useless papers completely ignoring the orb, and walked into an adjacent room. He muttered something incoherent about tax forms and government fingers getting into things they shouldn’t. Zamara chuckled at that. How lacking your attention can be in the world of sleep. 

Zamara grabbed the orb. As she did, her skin felt like it had been dipped into ice water. Her mouth watered at the sight, but she dared not eat an unrefined dream. Below the orb, lay something peculiar. A folded piece of parchment that made her mind shake with vertigo. She clutched at the journal, her token from her life unknown. 

The letter X embellished the dead center of the page. She blinked disbelieving. The letter X. Her mind raced, you cannot read in dreams, but she clearly recognized the crisscrossed pattern as an X. She hastily opened her journal. Even with the cold orb in her hands, her palms grew sweaty. and her heart raced with anxiety. She flipped to the first page. Black smudges, as if from a Rorschach test, bobbed and weaved morosely across the page. Except for two small spaces at the bottom. She saw X, blob, X, blob. Reading did exist in the world of dreams. 

“This is a dream isn’t it?” Paul’s somber voice cut the silence. “I just had the most fantastic meeting of my life. I got a promotion from my boss. An invite to the Bears game. I even saw my wife, but, this is all a dream. Isn’t it?” He frowned at his awareness. 

Snapped back to reality by the statement, Zamara brought the orb closer to herself and grabbed the parchment with the X from the safe. After she had all of her effects in order, she gave Paul a warm smile. “Dreams are meant for dreamers,” she said as she beckoned him toward her so they could peer out the broken-in window they came in from. She showed him the bustling cityscape with cars honking and birds chirping. The sun was setting creating a vibrant purple and red sky. The cool twilight air pressed on their skin like the cool side of the pillow before you drifted off to sleep. “If your subconscious can come up with something like this, imagine what you can do awake.”  He smiled back, although not as warmly, staring out at what his mind had created. Zamara calmly put her hands on his shoulders creating a sense of calm. Then she pushed him out the window. He screamed as he fell towards the pavement. Zamara tugged at her tether three times as the dream around her collapsed, and she was pulled up and out of the ocean of dreams and onto the deck of the Dream Catcher.

______

  “Zed! Bind that arm now!” Zeliza shouted in her captain's cloak. The perpetual rising sun and red sky matched her tan skin and flowing hair. 

“Aye captain,” Zed said back. A frown ordained his sun-beaten and pocked face as he carelessly wrapped Zamara's arm. Zamara winced with pain but still clutched the orb and paper with a death grip.

“Foolish girl!” the captain said. “Two tethers! Two! That is the minimum.” Zeliza’s voice got stuck in her throat as Zamara held up the glowing orb. A playful grin stretched across Zamara’s face, and soon after the same grin was on the captain's. 

“I saw it was a dream of the falling and needed to act,” Zamara said. “Risk going in on one tether, for a meal that will feed the whole crew for a week? Worth it.” The crew looked at Zamara in stunned silence. She brushed off the admiration with a shrug. 

Zamara looked up to her captain. “I also found this.” She held up the parchment and made it so the X was visible. The crew gasped in surprise as they all started to rummage in their pockets and coats looking for their tokens from the world of the living. Even Zed felt for his chest pocket before thinking better of it. Zed gave Zamara a disbelieving sneer. All of the crew carried some item such as a book, picture, or jewelry as their tokens. They peered at it to see if they could even glimpse their past life. Some of the crew became elated noticing their token contained the letter. This letter must have been rare because much of the crew had faces of pure disappointment.  

“Someone seems to be drinking a bit too much rainwater, eh Zamara?” Zed said loud enough for the whole crew to hear. “That doesn’t even look like a letter. Just two hashes on a piece of paper. You can’t read in dreams, pumpkin, or does a young girl like you not know the rules?” He said. 

Zamara’s lips drew to a line. “The rules state that we cannot write. Not that we cannot read. Or do you need to be reminded of the rules?” 

Zed gave Zamara a look of sarcastic shock. “Oh my, you're right buttercup, but in your infinite wisdom would you mind telling us how the hell we are supposed to read if none of us can write?”

Zamara didn’t respond, her face was still contorted in a way that showed her annoyance with Zed. Zed continued, “That’s what I thought. If there ain’t no one writin’, there ain’t no one readin’.”  He turned his back to Zamara beckoning the rest of the crew to join him. Most started to. 

“The Dream Maker can write,” Zamara whispered, regretting the words as soon as she spoke. Everyone turned back to her and started chuckling.

Zed erupted with laughter. “The Dream Maker? Mr. Raindrops? Sandy, the son of a beach?” He spoke between bouts of uncontrolled guffawing. “You still livin’ sweetheart? Cause you must be dreamin’. Ain’t no Dream Maker up there.” 

“Quiet." The captain said in a booming whisper. She looked up from her token. A shining golden locket hung open from her neck. The top half showed two young boys. The bottom, was a blurb much like that in Zamara's journal, aside from two clear Xs in the engraving. 

“Zed," she said. Not in a demanding way, but with a sense of calm that only a captain could muster. "Everyone on this ship knows that is a true letter. If this thing shows us anything that may lead to us remembering bits of our past. We are going to take it. So we are going to look at this thing and see what it means.” The captain beckoned Zamara towards her so that they could unfold the parchment. 

After the briefest of looks, it was clear that the parchment was a map. It had several islands and locations on it. None were labeled with words of course, but its purpose was clear. The islands and the X were not even the most jarring part. Near the X, a small green circle flashed like a tiny lighthouse. “I bet that's us." The captain said matter of factly. “It has to be. We set sail from Hypnus about a day ago, and I'd bet my memory that it's the island on this dot’s port side. In fact, this island south of us is probably Bokow." The captain looked up to the high mast. The wind pulled the sails in the ever-present sunset. "Lookout!" She shouted over the wind. "Point your glass to stern." 

"Aye Captain!" The boy in the rafters shouted.

“What do you see?" The captain asked while the crew waited patiently to receive new orders.

"Land Ho Captain!" The lookout said. “And Captain! We also have what looks to be a storm approaching port side.”  

"Well, that makes our choice even easier." The captain said as she gently folded the map and gave it to Zed. “Navigator, get us to that spot." 

“But captain,” Zed said "There is no reason to pursue such a foolish goal." He said it in a way that acted as if a blanket over Zamara’s soul. Her mind immediately thought the possibility of getting to the X was a wayward dream of a flippant girl. The captain, however, did not seem as affected by Zed's words. 

“Navigator, we have a storm approaching port with our destination to our starboard side. We will have to sail that way anyhow and it is your job to get us where I say to go. Correct?” 

Zed stared daggers into the captain’s impenetrable eyes. “Yes, captain,” his voice more venom than words as he stormed off announcing orders to his men at the bow. Zamara swore that she could hear him mutter, “when this ship is mine,” under his breath, but wasn’t entirely sure.

 "Oneiromancer!" The captain said, and a short man with a long white beard came forward. She pointed at the orb in Zamara's hands "How long can this essence get the crew?"

The oneiromancer looked at the essence. He carefully took it from Zamara's hands and coddled it in his own. He then pulled a loupe from his pocket to examine the chatoyance of the orb. "If I had to take an educated guess captain. If properly refined, it could last four cycles at least. Probably more." 

The captain nodded, happy with the result. "Crew! At first glance, we are about a day from our destination with plenty of food to get there. Hoist the mainsail for a port wind. We are going to where X marks the spot." 

______

A light chromatic rain pitter-pattered on the deck of the ship. Zamara looked out the porthole of the galley below the deck, she could see glimpses of what the dreams each drop may be as it fell from the sky. A look of fear in one drop with a passionate kiss in another.  Every raindrop had a prism effect that shined colors as if from a kaleidoscope through the circular pane. She wondered what she would remember in her dream for today as the oneiromancer poured everyone a shot of extracted essence. He sang the lullaby as was one of his many duties, for this galley was not full of tables like normal ships, but instead was full of hammocks for the crew to sleep. 

“In the world of life, 

we sleep to forget.

In the world of dreams, 

we sleep to remember."

His words soothed the crew who knew that once they fell asleep they would be forced to relieve who they once were. The oneiromancer walked up to Zamara and handed her a cup with a quivering hand. He smiled as the crew continued singing the song and whispered in a voice that only a kindly old man could muster to Zamara, “Dream well, and may you dream of a beautiful life lost.” 

 He continued on his path, reassuring fellow crew members who were frightened at what they may see of their past life as those who had not drunk yet continued to sing the lullaby. 

“In this world of strife, 

though we carry regrets.

We hope to redeem,

our lost lives embers.”

Zamara peered out the porthole next to her bed one more time, her hands sweating. It astounded her that she could jump into other peoples’ dreams and put herself in perilous, life-threatening situations, but her dreams were the ones she was most scared of. She took a long, deep breath, and drank the essence. 

______

Zamara stood. The carpet of the room snugged up to her bare feet. Guitars lined the flower-wallpapered walls. A person stood in front of her that she assumed was a man because he had a deep voice. She couldn’t see his face, nor remember his name, for both were forbidden from the dead. Due to this, his face was messy and blurred to her. 

“You need to take this seriously love.” His voice bled with concern.

“What do you mean... babe?” Zamara said, playing along for she could not remember the man's name, though she felt a connection to him. A lover? 

“What do I mean?  What do I mean! It’s cancer honey, and you’ve been acting as if it's nothing. The doctor called, and said you missed the last two appointments.” 

“5 percent.” She felt herself say, tears like a coming tidal wave forming in her eyes. “That’s all I have, and I am not going to waste it wasting away feeling as if I can’t even walk after treatment.” She raised her voice, she could feel her heart pounding in her chest and stared at the blur that was this man's, no, her husband's, face. “I want to live, with the time I have left, and I want to live it with you.” 

His shoulders slouched. She could tell she had won. 

“Get up!” she heard a voice cut through the dream, as she was shaken awake. She saw Zed and five other crew members standing over her. Zed had a wicked smile and a knife to her throat. A red sliver of blood already tainted the blade. “It’s time for this little diver to go for a swim.” 

______

Rain from an approaching storm pelted the Dream Catcher. Green lightning raced across the sky. The waves from the sea struck the side of the boat splashing a vibrant spay on the deck. Zamara could see in the waves, the screaming faces and horrors of dreamers from nightmares. She was carried, hands tied, next to the gangplank. 

“We better hurry this up Zed!” The lookout said over the pouring rain. His eyes had a cloudy film. “I’ve already seen a few nightmares lurking about the ship.” 

Zamara looked around and saw that the captain was also bound near the plank. Zamara was kicked to her knees beside her. 

Her eyes widened as she saw Zamara. She turned to Zed and glared. Taking the captain was one thing, but taking the crew's diver was ludicrous. How would you feed the crew? 

Zed climbed the ship’s side and raised his voice. “These morons want to bring ruin to this ship. They have led you on this worthless and perilous journey for what? A myth and a dream. I have been in the world of dreams for longer than both of these idiots and can tell you that there ain’t no Dream Maker. No hope at the end of the tunnel. No third life after this hell. So I ask you, should we let this delusional woman keep us from surviving?” Zamara could feel an intense weight from Zed’s voice. Making even her want to believe what he said. 

“No!” The whole crew shouted in unison.

“Oneiromancer, bring me two unrefined dreams,” Zed said.

Zamara was shocked,  the gentle old man who sang the crew to sleep was against them, but then she saw him. His face was beaten to a pulp, eyes swelled so badly that he could barely see. His legs were bound together by a chain. He hobbled towards Zeliza and Zamara carrying two thumb-sized glowing orbs. “I’m so sorry,” he mouthed as he was kicked in the back and forced to give Zed the two orbs. Zed took the orbs and cracked them into a tiny bowl as if they were eggs. The milky substance changed from a soft white to an intense black.  He then took his knife and coated it with the substance.   

“I’ve been here a long time ladies.” He whispered to both of them the rain muffling his voice so that only the two of them could hear. “I know who I was before. I know who I am, and it ain’t no savior. I owe a few unsavory individuals a debt, and I intend to pay it with you two.” Zeliza started to shout back, but Zed was quick to shove the blade into her chest. 

The only thing that Zamara noticed was the captain’s eyes going from white to inky black as Zed kicked the captain off the plank and into the sea of dreams. 

“Your turn little lady,” he said, spinning the blade between his fingers. “I hope you enjoy being a nightmare for the next couple hundred years.” He dowsed the blade again with the substance. He crouched beside her one last time and whispered, “Before you go, I should let you know, the Dream Maker is real,” and gave her a smile that bounced with joy while his eyes stared with pure satisfaction and malice. 

Zamara took a deep breath preparing for the blow when she heard a crack in the air as green lightning struck the mast setting it ablaze. Zed and the men holding her were distracted only momentarily but it was enough. She rammed her head into the man who was holding her. His nose made a satisfying crunch. The man loosed his grip and Zamara broke free running across the gangplank. Zed was quick however and tackled her diving them both into the sea of dreams. 

______

Never dive into the sea in a storm, for it is where the real nightmares roam. Zamara looked around her and was shaking. She saw the dreamer, a man in a black robe huddled in the corner clutching a cross. 

“O, sinner,” 

“Why don’t you answer.” 

A child’s voice echoed on the other side of a door to an adjacent room. 

“Somebodies knockin’ at your door,” 

Bang.

The door connecting her room shook.

“Can’t you hear me?” 

 “Somebodies knockin’ at your door.” Another bang with the tempo of the song. 

Zamara rushed over to the huddled man, he was wearing a black outfit except for a small white section in the collar. A cassock? His head was on his knees covered by his arms. 

“O, Sinner. Why don’t you answer.”

 The girl's voice became slightly deeper. Zamara placed her hand on the dreamer. His head shot up eyes wide with fear. His mouth... wasn’t there. Just skin covered the place where his mouth should have been. His entire body was slick with sweat as he cowered deeper into the corner at the sight of Zamara. 

“Somebodies knockin’ at your door,” 

Zamara fell back. The priest tried to talk but realized he could not and started to breathe heavily through his nose. He looked at Zamara for help, but only saw fear. 

“Can’t you trust me?”

The girl’s voice grew deeper again.

“Somebodies knockin’ at your door.”

Zamara ran to the man and whispered. “Sir, we can get out of here. But I need you to help me. Take a deep breath.” He started to inhale. 

“Don’t you know me?” 

“Somebodies knockin’ on your door.”

 The voice was deeper and slightly distorted now. 

“Sir,” Zamara said, fear bleeding into her words. “I need you to think of a way out of here.” 

Bang. 

Two hinges from the door hit the floor.

“Now! Please,” she said shaking. The man looked into her pleading eyes and took another breath and closed his eyes. Zamara saw a small trap door materialize on the wall. It had a rusted hinge, but it was something. The man opened his eyes and started to go for the door. He needed to be the one to open it. 

“Don’t you know me?”

 The demonic voice continued as the man yanked the door open revealing a downward staircase. 

Bang.

 The door's last hinge fell. As the door started to fall, the man and Zamara began to climb in the opening. Zamara dared to look back and saw a small child standing in the doorway wearing a white dress and a girlish smile. Her eyes were black as pitch. “Somebodies knockin’ at your door,” she sang in a mimic of a childlike voice. Zamara slammed the hatch. 

They reached the bottom of the stairs. Almost no light made it to this room. Zamara bumped something hard and cold. She heard it jingle when she grabbed it. Chains? Yes, the entire room was ordained with them. The priest was frantically looking for an exit again. She could just kill him, that would free her from this nightmare. As she thought this someone dove into her. 

She took a fist to the face. Zed. He continued to punch her. She looked to the priest for help, but he just stared at them in the corner of the room wanting this horrific experience to end. 

“I’m so glad to see you have come to repay your debt.” She heard that distorted voice say. It was too loud to be anything less than a few feet away. Zed pinned Zamara’s arms down with his hands. 

“I have,” Zed said. He was also shaking with fear. Zamara could tell this was not part of his original plan. “I brought you the captain and this young pup as payment for your gift of persuasion.”

“Hmm?” The girl whispered. “We found no captain. And I see no reason to look, for I have two lovely souls right here.” 

A shocked look ran across Zed’s face. “No please, the captains here somewhere, I promise. She has even been prepped for you.” He raised one hand off of Zamara’s shoulder in a pitiful attempt to force the nightmare back. Zamara took her chance. 

She clutched the low-hanging chain next to her arm and whipped it into Zed’s face, startling him as he tumbled off of her. She sprang up and ran to the wall. The nightmare stood over Zed’s body. He let out a soft whimper as black tentacle-shaped shadows wrapped around his limp body. Zamara heard muffled crunches as the bones of Zed's body cracked. The nightmare opened its mouth wider than Zamara thought possible. With a scream and guttural gulp, Zed was gone. 

“Now that was delicious,” the girl as she chuckled and turned her gaze to Zamara, black eyes still voracious. She playfully walked over to Zamara, her black tendrils wrapping around Zamara’s legs.  

Zamara’s legs snapped like toothpicks. She let out a pitiful scream. The girl's mouth started to open in that unhinged, uncanny, and wrong way. More of Zamara’s bones cracked, the only thing keeping her awake was the terror of the moment. 

Zamara heard a loud crash of the wall and saw a black spike shoot across the room. The spike rammed into the nightmare’s head. The nightmares horrific jaw went from hungry to bewildered the second before went slack. Her tendrils fell away from Zamara. The last thing Zamara felt as she drifted off to sleep was a warm embrace, and a golden locket swinging from her savior. 

______

“Hey Love,” the man from her previous dream said. He had his face covered by flowers, chrysanthemums, her favorite, in her hospital room. “Doc said that surgery will be in a few hours and that you should rest before, but I just thought you would want to see my beautiful face before you went in.” He moved the flowers revealing the blur that was his face to Zamara. She still felt compelled to say what she must have said then. 

“Dear Lord, thank goodness you brought the flowers. Could you imagine if your face was the last thing I saw? Horrific, let me tell you.” 

Zamara couldn’t see the man's reaction, but she could tell the joke didn’t land. He came over and squeezed her hand, tears welled in her eyes and a drop from his own fell to her hand. “You're going to make it through this,” he said, “Cause if you don’t you’ll muck up all my dreams.” 

“Your dreams?” Zamara asked a bit confused.  

“Now Love,” he said. “I never told you this because you already have big enough of a head, but after I met you, you wouldn’t leave me alone. Every time I slept, there you were, haunting me like some stalking nightmare. You just wouldn’t leave me alone.” Another tear hit Zamara’s hand. “So if you go, I’ll never get a lick of sleep. So you got to promise me, you’ll get through this, not for you, but for my own sanity.” For a split second, she could have sworn she saw a flick of a smile through the blurry mess that was his face. 

She said her last words to him, “I promise.” 

______

Zamara could hear the wake of the water, and feel the cold damp sand beneath her cheek. It was so soft and cool like a pillow flipped over in bed. 

“Welcome Zamara.” The Dream Maker said. 

“It was him the whole time, wasn’t it?” Zamara asked as she opened her eyes and saw pure white sand on a purple twilight sky. The man in front of her wore a dark brown cloak, a finely trimmed white beard, and a toothy smile. 

“In the word of the living we sleep to forget, and in the world of dreams we sleep to remember.” He said cryptically. 

“It was Paul the whole time?” Zamara asked more directly. 

“Well of course my dear. That is where you found the letter is it not?” 

“Where is the captain?” She asked realizing that Zeliza must have saved her from that horrible dream. She also noticed that her bones seemed to be stitched back together as no pain shot through her as she sat up. 

“Zeliza is also here, just not right now, but she is safe.” He said again in his abrupt and annoying way. “Now back to you. Have you found out what you must do?”

Zamara saw she would get nothing more about the captain from him, but his calm and welcoming demeanor anchored her enough to answer his question. She closed her eyes. “I need to find him again.” 

“And again and again and again. And not just him, but your mother and father, brothers, and sister, until you can read that entire journal you have in your pocket.” Zamara reached for the journal noticing that she somehow did not lose it. “Once you find all that out, come back to me, and then we can continue this merry jaunt along this beach.” 

“That’s it? You just tell me I need to go back out there? I don’t have a ship, a crew, anything?” The Dream Maker put on that toothy grin, raised a hand, and snapped his fingers. 

With a single breath, Zamara was back aboard the Dream Catcher. The mast was still smoldering from the previous night. Zeliza was standing next to her with her usual green eyes. They both looked at each other with shock. Was what they just experienced real or just a dream? They both pulled out their tokens. Zeliza looked at the picture of her two sons in the locket she wore. She could read almost all the letters of both of their names now engraved on the locket. Zamara noticed that she could remember four more letters than before. A, L, P, and U. She opened the journal to see the name Paul blessed every page.