Into Temptation

Tables appeared.

One moment the banquet hall held nothing but open stone beneath our feet.

The next, long wooden tables stretched from wall to wall beneath chandeliers blazing with candlelight.

Silver platters overflowed with roasted meats.

Fresh bread stacked itself into baskets.

Fruit spilled from crystal bowls.

Goblets filled with wine, cider, and water.

The villagers cheered.

Tankards slammed against tables.

People embraced.

Music swelled from the balconies.

It should have felt like a family gathering.

Instead, every instinct I had screamed that something was wrong.

A table appeared beside a kneeling woman.

Three fingers disappeared from her remaining hand.

No blood.

No wound.

One moment they were there.

The next they weren’t.

A silver platter filled itself with food.

An old man lost his final tooth.

Wine poured into a row of goblets.

A young woman collapsed.

The feast was not free.

Nothing here was.

The villagers took their places anyway.

They smiled.

Laughed.

Ate food purchased with pieces of themselves.

Rachel sat on the throne.

Radiant.

The crown rested easily against her dark hair. The golden chalice remained cradled between her hands.

She looked happier than I had ever seen her.

Which meant absolutely nothing.

With her, everything was performance.

“I’m so happy to be home.”

The hall erupted into cheers.

The sound shook the vaulted ceiling.

Rachel smiled down at her followers.

Then her expression softened.

“You have spent so much time searching for answers.”

Her gaze settled on Bodhi.

“You deserve the truth.”

The room quieted.

Not gradually.

Immediately.

Forks stopped halfway to mouths.

Goblets froze against lips.

Every face turned toward the throne.

“I am called many things.”

Rachel traced one finger around the rim of the chalice.

“Dream Keeper.”

A candle extinguished.

“Night Father.”

Another went dark.

“The Sleepless King.”

Shadows moved across the ceiling.

“But the name I have always liked best…”

The voice changed.

Still Rachel’s.

Something older beneath it.

“…is Lord of Dreams.”

The title settled over the hall.

Bodhi stood with Sasha pressed against his leg.

The thing on the throne looked at him.

“My poor Bodhi.”

A sad smile touched Rachel’s lips.

“I am not your wife.”

Bodhi’s jaw tightened.

“Don’t wear her face.”

“But she wears so well on me.”

The Dreamer tilted Rachel’s head.

“Don’t you agree?”

“You couldn’t hold a candle to my Rachel.”

The Dreamer smiled wider.

“And yet…”

He raised the chalice.

“I convinced you.”

Bodhi flinched.

Sasha growled.

The Dreamer drank slowly.

Enjoying both.

“I was born the first night humanity slept beyond Eden.”

The certainty in his voice was absolute.

Not the certainty of someone telling a story.

The certainty of someone remembering a dream so often that it had become history.

“Humanity closed its eyes and dreamed of returning home.”

The hall darkened.

Shapes moved within the walls.

A garden.

A gate.

A man and woman standing outside something beautiful they could no longer reach.

“They carried fear into sleep.”

The garden burned away.

“Longing.”

A child reached for a mother who wasn’t there.

“Regret.”

A soldier washed blood from his hands.

“Hope.”

A prisoner stared through a window at the sunrise.

“Desire.”

A king knelt before a crown.

The images vanished.

“Someone had to carry those things.”

The Dreamer opened his arms.

“So I did.”

The villagers bowed their heads.

A servant approached the throne carrying a pitcher.

Three fingers were missing from his left hand.

The Dreamer took the damaged hand tenderly.

Ran Rachel’s thumb across the smooth places where the fingers should have been.

The servant smiled up at him.

Devoted.

Grateful.

Empty.

“Dreams sustain me,” the Dreamer said.

The servant refilled the chalice.

A fourth finger disappeared.

He never stopped smiling.

“But dreams alone are not enough.”

The Dreamer released him.

“Sacrifice sustains this place.”

The servant bowed and backed away.

“Unfortunately, sacrifice never lasts.”

His gaze returned to Bodhi.

“Your Rachel possesses something extraordinarily rare.”

Bodhi stepped forward.

“Where is she?”

The Dreamer ignored the question.

“She carries life differently than the rest of us. Power returns to her. Renews itself. A flame that refuses to diminish.”

He looked into the chalice.

“I could sustain this kingdom for centuries with such a gift.”

“You want to feed on her.”

“I need her.”

“Where is she?”

The Dreamer sighed.

“If I knew that, you wouldn’t be here.”

The answer landed harder than anything else he’d said.

Bodhi wasn’t just bait.

He was part of the search.

“Three years ago, my Order found her,” the Dreamer continued. “She understood what they wanted before they understood it themselves.”

The balcony above us shimmered.

Figures appeared along the railing.

Masked.

Robed.

Silent.

The Order of the Veil.

Dozens of them.

Then hundreds.

Their bodies looked almost solid.

Almost.

The edges blurred when they moved. Their feet never touched the floor. Shadows shifted independently beneath them.

They weren’t here.

Not physically.

They were watching from somewhere else.

Dreaming together.

Witnessing the world beneath the veil.

The Dreamer lifted his chalice toward them.

The projections bowed.

“She hid herself between worlds,” he said. “A place neither sleeping nor waking can reach.”

Bodhi’s voice cracked.

“Why?”

This time, the Dreamer answered immediately.

“To protect you.”

Bodhi stopped breathing.

“She loved you enough to disappear.”

The Dreamer smiled with Rachel’s mouth.

“She still does.”

Bodhi looked down.

Sasha pushed her head against his hand.

His fingers found her automatically.

“But hiding requires power,” the Dreamer continued. “Even Rachel cannot remain beyond reach forever.”

“So you brought Bodhi here,” I said.

The Dreamer looked at me.

“I brought all of you.”

A section of the castle wall opened.

Shelves waited inside.

Hundreds of them.

Ancient coins.

Stone carvings.

Broken crowns.

Wedding rings.

Children’s toys.

Religious symbols from faiths older than recorded language.

Faded photographs.

Talismans.

Things that had once mattered deeply to someone.

Preserved bodies rested among them.

Some reduced to bone.

Others mummified.

Each displayed with terrible care.

Henderson stared into the collection.

“You collect people?”

“I preserve what matters.”

“That isn’t preservation.”

The Dreamer considered Henderson.

“Death makes everything temporary. I find that offensive.”

The wall closed.

Bodhi looked toward the throne.

“Why the three of us?”

The Dreamer rose.

“Three is a powerful number.”

He descended the steps.

“Beginning.”

One step.

“Middle.”

Another.

“End.”

He stopped in front of Bodhi.

“Love.”

Bodhi said nothing.

“You are the heart that calls to her. The one person she cannot stop loving, no matter how far she runs.”

The Dreamer turned toward Gene.

“Courage.”

Gene’s eyes had cleared since entering the castle.

He stepped closer to Kristy Lee.

“You move while afraid,” the Dreamer said. “Charge through doors wiser men avoid. Stand when everything inside you begs you to run.”

Gene shrugged.

“I’ve also been called stupid.”

“Often the distinction is determined by who survives.”

Finally, the Dreamer looked at me.

“Faith.”

Not wisdom.

Not strength.

Not leadership.

Faith.

The word moved through the room differently.

The villagers stopped eating.

The projected Order leaned closer.

“You’ve spent two years trying to organize it,” the Dreamer said.

I felt the strike beneath the words.

“Package it.”

Another.

“Fund it.”

Another.

“Stand beneath lights and explain it to people who already paid to hear you.”

I held his stare.

“You attack faith the same way you attacked football and finance. Study it. Master it. Turn it into something you can control.”

Rachel’s face smiled at me.

“And still, beneath all that performance, you carry more of the Spirit than you understand.”

The Farm had known.

The ranch had known.

Apparently the Dreamer knew too.

“Love will show me where Rachel is,” he said.

He looked at Gene.

“Courage will carry me across the distance.”

Then back to me.

“Faith will open what no key can.”

The bone key appeared in his hand.

He turned it slowly.

“This opened the door to my world.”

He closed his fingers around it.

“You will open the door to hers.”

Bodhi stepped in front of us.

“We aren’t helping you.”

“I don’t require your help.”

The Dreamer’s smile returned.

“I require your surrender.”

The ceremonial table nearest us shifted.

Three shallow bowls appeared.

One before Bodhi.

One before Gene.

One before me.

“Power taken resists,” the Dreamer said. “Power surrendered opens.”

“You need us to agree,” I said.

“I need you to accept what I offer.”

“And if we don’t?”

“Then we remain here together.”

The villagers continued eating around us.

Another platter filled.

Another person lost something.

“You’ll have time to reconsider.”

Henderson raised one hand.

“What about me?”

The Dreamer blinked.

“What about you?”

“Why bring me?”

“You were insurance.”

“For what?”

The Dreamer glanced toward the castle entrance.

“The gate was hungry.”

Henderson’s face lost color.

“If the bikers hadn’t arrived…”

“You would have served a purpose.”

Henderson lowered his hand.

Kristy Lee folded her arms.

“And me?”

The Dreamer’s expression sharpened.

“You were not invited.”

“You’ve been trying to kill me since California.”

“I warned Gene not to bring you.”

Gene turned toward the throne.

The last confusion left his face.

“You made her sick.”

The Dreamer lifted the chalice.

“I gave you an opportunity to leave her somewhere safe.”

“You poisoned her.”

“I adjusted the circumstances.”

Gene moved.

Fast.

He vaulted the table and charged the throne.

The hall stretched.

One moment the Dreamer stood twenty feet away.

The next, fifty.

Then a hundred.

Gene ran harder.

He never moved closer.

Kristy Lee shouted his name.

Gene stopped.

The floor snapped back into place.

He stood twenty feet from the Dreamer again.

Breathing hard.

Furious.

The Dreamer smiled.

“Courage.”

Gene took another step.

Kristy Lee caught his hand.

“Not yet.”

Gene looked at her.

Whatever he saw made him stop.

The Dreamer’s gaze lowered to Sasha.

“My dear girl.”

Sasha bared her teeth.

He held out Rachel’s hand.

“Come to Mommy.”

Sasha lunged.

Bodhi caught her around the chest.

She barked and fought against him, every muscle aimed toward the throne.

The Dreamer withdrew his hand.

“Don’t worry.”

His smile returned.

“Everything comes to me eventually.”

Bodhi pulled Sasha closer.

“You’ll never touch her.”

“We’ll see.”

The Dreamer returned to the throne.

“What if I gave each of you exactly what you wanted?”

The banquet hall vanished.

For one moment, Bodhi stood in the sunlight.

A beautiful house rose behind him.

Children ran across a wide lawn.

Books bearing his name filled shelves visible through an open window. Awards lined the walls.

Rachel stepped onto the porch.

The real Rachel.

Or something close enough to make Bodhi’s face break.

She smiled.

Held out her arms.

Sasha ran toward her.

“You can have contentment,” the Dreamer whispered.

The false Rachel kissed Bodhi.

Children wrapped around his legs.

“No searching.”

The image shifted.

“No grief.”

Bodhi stood before hundreds of cheering children.

“No empty house.”

Rachel waited in the front row.

“A perfect family. A life others envy. Every book remembered. Every child knowing your name.”

Bodhi closed his eyes.

The vision disappeared.

“No,” he said.

The Dreamer leaned forward.

“You barely looked.”

“I’ve spent three years looking.”

Bodhi opened his eyes.

“I know what she looks like.”

The Dreamer’s smile thinned.

The room shifted around Gene.

He stood on the balcony of a glass tower overlooking a city.

Men in expensive suits waited for his orders.

Politicians answered his calls.

Police commissioners shook his hand.

No Ted.

No bosses.

No men claiming credit for the empires he built.

Kristy Lee stood beside him.

Beautiful.

Untouchable.

His.

“You have spent your life creating power for other men,” the Dreamer said.

The city spread beneath Gene’s feet.

“Now it can belong to you.”

The false Kristy Lee took his arm.

“Respect.”

The crowd below chanted his name.

“Control.”

Men who had once threatened him lowered their eyes.

“No one laughing. No one looking down on you. No one ever calling you a burden again.”

The Dreamer smiled.

“You may even keep that one.”

Gene looked at the woman holding his arm.

Then at the real Kristy Lee.

“I don’t want to keep her.”

Kristy Lee’s eyebrows lifted.

Gene pointed toward her.

“She isn’t mine to keep.”

Something softened in her face.

“She stays because she wants to.”

The false empire disappeared.

Gene smiled at the throne.

“And God knows why, but so far she wants to.”

Kristy Lee squeezed his hand.

The Dreamer looked disappointed.

Then his eyes settled on me.

The banquet hall disappeared.

Noise vanished.

Peace washed over me.

Complete.

Absolute.

No questions.

No doubt.

I stood beneath a sky opened wide enough to reveal Heaven.

Not clouds.

Not light.

Heaven.

I could see it.

Understand it.

Every prayer answered before I asked.

Every mystery explained.

I knew why Mama died.

Why Marcus fell.

Why Jeb had been killed.

Why good men suffered.

Why bad men prospered.

I knew who was saved.

Who was lost.

Who had lied.

Who had believed.

No guessing.

No hoping.

No faith required.

Certainty.

Lost River stretched across the world.

Stadiums filled with people waiting for me to speak. Churches carried my name. Men dropped to their knees when I entered.

I raised one hand.

The sick stood.

The grieving smiled.

The dead returned home.

No unanswered prayers.

No silence from Heaven.

“You protected bodies,” the Dreamer whispered.

The vision expanded.

“But what of souls?”

Thousands waited for me.

“How many funerals?”

Mama stood among them.

“How many grieving parents?”

Marcus.

Jeb.

Nathan.

“How many prayers did you offer while wondering if anyone heard?”

Every word struck home.

“I can give you Heaven.”

The Dreamer’s voice surrounded me.

“Not faith.”

The sky opened wider.

“Not hope.”

Mama smiled.

“Certainty.”

The room returned.

I stood beside the table.

The feast continued.

Food never diminished.

Goblets refilled themselves.

Villagers surrendered pieces of themselves and thanked the one taking them.

The projected Order watched from the balconies.

Their shadows moved in the wrong directions.

Rachel’s face waited on the throne.

Everything looked real.

Everything felt real.

The Dreamer smiled.

“Which of you will accept first?”

“I will.”

Every head turned toward me.

Bodhi stared.

“Dan?”

Gene stepped between me and the throne.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Moving.”

“Toward the lunatic with the sacrifice bowls?”

“Yes.”

“That feels like a mistake.”

Kristy Lee studied my face.

Henderson stood.

“Dan, think about this.”

“I have.”

The Dreamer descended the steps.

A ceremonial knife appeared in his hand.

Beautiful.

Ancient.

Deadly.

He extended his other hand toward me.

I walked past Gene.

He grabbed my arm.

“Don’t.”

I looked at him.

“Trust me.”

“That’s asking a lot.”

“I know.”

Gene released me.

Slowly.

I approached the throne.

The Order leaned over the balconies.

The villagers stopped eating.

The Dreamer waited with Rachel’s face and a knife that had not existed seconds earlier.

I knelt.

The stone felt cold beneath my knees.

The Dreamer stood over me.

“Do you surrender your faith willingly?”

I looked up at him.

He raised the blade.

“Do you accept what I have offered?”

The banquet hall held its breath.

I smiled.

“I accept exactly what this is.”

The knife began to descend.