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When I Dream


“Ree! You have to come with me after school! I just heard about the best store!”

Aria lifted her head just enough to give her friend a sidelong glare. Oblivious, Angie continued bubbling over with enthusiasm. “It's a bookstore that sells all sorts of charms and stuff. The best part is the owner is friends with a really accurate fortune teller! If we go today we can get free readings and stuff!”

Aria groaned. She knew “stuff” meant advice about love, love charms, heck even love potions if the batty woman tried selling those on the side. While Aria couldn't care less about what some hunk of crystal or painted pieces of cardboard had to say, she saw that Angie was practically floating away on fluffy pink clouds of fantasizing. Like some sort of blond haired, blue eyed cherub planning to steal the prince charming from whichever princess didn't fight back hard enough.

“Angie...” Giving up, Aria buried her head deeper into her folded arms, trying to go back to sleep before study hall ended. A hand with sparkling-pink painted nails grabbed Aria's slumped shoulder.

“Oh, please go with me Ria? It's so embarrassing to go alone! I'll help you with your art project!” Aria's light green eye peeked out again. It was red rimmed because of that blasted project.

“Low blow, Angie... Do you realize I lost four hours of sleep last night alone trying to finish that still-life-from-hell?” Unlike the flighty and overly romantic Angie, her own artistic skills were non-existent. The bowl of fruit she was supposed to paint looked more like a bowl of something...mutilated...

“Based on your foul mood and the red paint on the back of your sleeves, I had a hunch.”

Head snapping up, Aria began swearing under her breath as she twisted her arm around and pulled on her sleeve to find the paint stain. That was the last paint-covered straw, this was a new shirt after all and she'd spent a whole hour convincing her mother that black skulls and butterflies went together just fine. If Angie didn't help her, she'd probably use one of the art knives to wreck the stupid thing and fail.

“Fine Ange, but I swear you're a devil disguised as a fluffy angel.”

* * *

“Are you sure this is a bookstore and not an antique shop?”

“It's just one of those 'new age' types of places...with old looking stuff...” Even Angie seemed to be having second thoughts. Still her dreams of love charms and promises of princes on white horses were even stronger. She pulled the reluctant Aria in through the opaque glass door.

The store was stuffed with somewhat dusty shelves of new and old books alike. The free spaces between aisles had beautiful but unstable looking tables with crystals, carved boxes, pewter figurines set with shining stones, pieces of old but tasteful jewelry, and other less recognizable objects. Chimes that hung in the window swung lazily when the door opened. They made a wistful song that hung heavily on Aria's heart.

“Ahh, welcome!” A woman with a warm voice greeted them with friendly yet distant smile. “Is there anything in particular you fine young ladies are looking for?” Aria found herself staring at the woman's gray eyes. They were like those classic paintings that always seemed to be looking straight at you no matter where you stood. She could almost swear they had flashed silver light for a second.

“Er, no, we'd heard something about a fortune teller...” Angie's answer was vague and distracted as she looked around.

Her search was cut short by a silken, but definitely masculine, voice behind the two girls. “My apologies, it seems I've stolen even more of your customers from you my dear.” Aria shivered as velvet gloved hand fell gently on her shoulder. “Now then, if you two will come with me.” Still gentle, but very firmly, the hands pushed Aria and Angie toward the shop's back wall.

A corner had been curtained off by heavy drapes. Inside was lacquered table of a dark red wood Aria didn't recognized and a throne-like chair placed at the far end. Clusters of candles dripped wax like thin blood. As unpleasant as that color seemed in the dim light, it also served as a reminder of the painting that had landed Aria in this mess.

The hands let go, and the man stepped around the girls to sit on the pseudo-throne. Aria wondered if he was some theater reject who'd brought some of the props with him. He certainly looked the part, dressed in purple robes belted with golden ropes and chains around his neck. He'd even pulled up a hood that hid most of his face. On his cheek was a tattoo of some sort of butterfly that pulled Aria's eyes. The flickering light made the colors seem to continuously shift and change, and the wings seemed almost to move...

“How may this humble fortuneteller help you lovely ladies?” Again she was struck by how pleasant and soothing that baritone voice sounded. Not exactly the “batty old woman” she'd been expecting! Didn't mean he was any less of a fraud...

“Err-love for-I mean, do you do readings about, like, love and soul mates?” Angie blushed as she stumbled over her question. Aria suspected some of the rumors had already informed her romance-hopeful friend that the fortuneteller was a tall, dark, and mysterious man. She smelled an ulterior motive behind Angie's typical hobbies.

“Certainly my lovely. Though I hardly need any special sight to see you must have many suitors who would grant all your dreams.” Aria struggled not to laugh out loud, clapping a hand across her mouth to cover a slightly disgusted snort. Angie seemed perfectly happy with this answer, and the man pretended not to notice Aria's reaction as he withdrew a deck of red cards from somewhere in those ridiculous robes.

Well, whatever makes my best pal happy, she thought to herself with a smile and leaned back in her seat to watch the show. Angie puts up with me even if I don't know the difference between a brownie fairy and dessert. She even listens to my dismal attempts to play piano. I can stand half an hour or so of hocus pocus, you-will-meet-a-tall-dark-stranger talk.

The reading itself seemed very routine as far as Aria could tell. He placed cards in what seemed like arbitrary positions, and somehow began deciding the story of Angie's future with hardly a glance. Some warnings against temptation, and signs of lovers and marriage, “and the Sun indicates fertility and wealth. I'm sure your marriage will very successful and you'll have many healthy children.”

“Oh!!!” Angie grabbed Aria's hand in her excitement, almost knocking a candle off the table. As she gushed happily that she was sure she'd marry a celebrity, Aria was certain she heard the fortuneteller continue too quietly for Angie to hear.

“However, the Sun also speaks of superficiality. It may not run as smoothly under the surface.” His knowing smile suddenly made Aria feel sick. She could forgive playing psychic for the amusement of others, but how dare he smile at the idea of a bad outcome? She stood up suddenly, pulling a startled Angie with her.

“You've heard your fortune, so let's go already. Come help me with my project already.”

“But Aria! You haven't gotten your fortune yet! Come on! It won't hurt to just listen!”

“Miss Brown is perfectly right Miss Brooks. It would be a shame to leave now, and it costs nothing to stay.”

Nothing but my sanity, Aria thought. She didn't remember ever telling the man their names...but how else could he have known them, or even cared to know before they'd even heard of this shop? Must be sleep deprivation messing with my memory.

He smiled again, as if hearing the unspoken words in the tense air. “A compromise then? I'll give you a shorter reading than I performed for your friend. My friend out by the entrance will even throw in some of her wares, free of charge, for disturbing you.”

“Stop giving away my merchandise, Beron!”

Aria jumped at the reminder of the woman outside the curtains. It surprised her that such a dreamy seeming woman could sound so...sharp. The man, Beron, smiled again and set a new spread of cards. Only three this time, set lengthwise in a row.

He tapped the one in the center. “This represent you as you are now.” He turned it over. “This card represents 'harmony.' In the inverse position, it shows what you believe you are but in truth are not.” Again with that infuriating smile. “An illusionary identity you hide behind perhaps?”

“If you're just gonna mock me-”

“Aria! He doesn't mean it like that!” Despite her words, Angie frowned at Beron. Daydreams and fairy tales aside, she wasn't going to let someone bully her friend. That was her privilege. The man lowered his head in mute apology and moved onto the next card, the topmost one.

“The card in this position is the goal you strive for, or what you will obtain in the end.” Flipping the card, Aria could almost swear that under that hood he was watching her, not the card. “Temperance. It is a card of 'creativity,' 'metamorphosis,' and 'things passing.'”

Okay, she thought, that doesn't make sense, but at least it doesn't sound like an insult.

His hand moved to the last card and turned it over slowly. “The choices you should make. The World represents 'vast travel' and 'freedom from constraints.' It also means 'union' and 'circles that close.' It seems you have an interesting future, to say the least, and will perhaps learn about yourself.”

“Yeah, that's great, I think I'll go do some 'learning about myself' somewhere else.” Petty, Aria knew, but she just wanted to leave. As she was about to push back out through the curtains the man called her name again.

“Miss Brooks.” If his smooth voice hadn't sounded serious for the first time she'd have ignored him. But she didn't, and looked back over her shoulder. He was frowning, and looking at a card he'd apparently just drawn. “A bit of advice. In the future, you should be wary who you make deals with. Even within dreams, the Devil may bargain for your soul.”

She didn't say anything, just left with Angie following close behind. At the door they were stopped by the woman with the faraway eyes. She pressed small brown paper bags into Daisy and Aria's hands. “A deal is a deal, even if someone made it in my place. Come again someday.” Aria hardly waited for Angie to thank her before storming out the door, irritated by the mention of more deals.

The woman stuck her head through the curtains. “Even if you're bored, that wasn't done in very good spirits, Beron. I'm disappointed in you for toying with those poor girls.”

Not meeting her eyes, he murmured to himself. “You're right, and I seem to have started something we could have done without...” Looking at the card in his hand he sighed. “The Devil. 'Imprisonment,' 'Deceit,' and the, 'overturning of the natural order.' This would probably be a good time for me to return...” For the first time he looked up into her worried eyes. Unlike the girls from before, the woman could see the deep black eyes hidden within the shadows. “You gave those to them?”

“Yes, but that means...?”

“The first girl should be fine. Her future has it's troubles, but they are not so uncommon and she has good friends. A little charm is more than enough to help her through. But the other...may need more help than I'm in the position to grant.”

* * *

At home again, Aria tossed the bag on her pillow and flung herself on her bed. Finally, she could get some sleep. She'd worry about the painting tomorrow when she met up with Angie again. Thinking of the still life reminded her of the deal she'd made to get her friend's help, and that smug excuse for a fortuneteller. Irritated again, she glared at the paper bag. Grabbing it roughly she dumped it's contents into her hand.

It was a feather hairpin. A white feather with strings of colored glass beads hanging from the clip.

“Weird. More like something Angie would like than I would.” She rolled over onto her back and held it up before her eyes. “Maybe she got somethin' I'd like...an' we can trade tomorrow...” Her words slurred as she swiftly drifted off to sleep. “That's right. When I dream...I shouldn't make any more deals...”

* * *

“Well whaddaya know. I'm dreaming after all.” Aria looked around at her new surroundings. What she'd at first thought was a forest was actually dried golden-brown grass that towered as high above her head as trees, twisting together into tunnels with dirt paths. “Well, it seems pretty boring, and it doesn't look like I'm in danger of meeting the Devil.”

“I don't care if you're waiting to meet a dryad or an incubus, but don't block they way!” A disgruntled dwarf waddled past her, lugging heavy looking tools in the dirt behind him. Aria wasn't sure, but they looked like something a medieval blacksmith might use.

“Who are you?”

He glared at her, “Alberich! Can't you tell?”

“Uh, no. Sorry, I don't think I've ever even heard the name before.”

“PFAH!” He threw up his stubby hands in disgust. “'Never even heard the name before' she says! That's what all humans say! None of them know anything anymore!” He spat at her feet and continued away, she saw now that he limped along.

“Well geez, I can't help not recognizing someone from a dream!” The words were barely out of her mouth when he pulled her back as far as the tall grass would allow. “WHA-!”

A stampede ran past where she'd just been standing. She couldn't believe she hadn't heard it's rumbling approach as now the thunder of countless feet deafened her. Even more to her surprise, they were all people. The noise they made and cloud of dust would have made her thought a troop of rhinos was going by, but they were humans. Or maybe not, their faces were blank and nearly featureless, making them look eerily like clones of one another.

They ran past as if they hadn't even noticed her, and trampled over the tools the dwarf had abandoned in the path. A few tripped, but leaped back up and continued as if nothing had happened. It wasn't long before they were far gone down the path.

Alberich limped back to his tools where he began dusting them off and inspecting for damage. “Brainless buggers...just keep running wherever the paths lead them, don't see anything else.” He groaned as one nameless tool fell apart in his hands.

“Umm, thanks.”

The dwarf turned a baleful eye on her. “You owe me for this! I saved you! You got my tools all broke! And you don't even know who Alberich is!”

“Right, what can I do then to repay you?” Wasn't I supposed to not make any deals? Too late, and repaying someone wasn't the same as making a deal, right?

“Go to the castle! It should be my castle! But that feather headed git of a Fairy King took it! I plan to get back what's mine!” He glowered at her.

“Fairy King? I must be spending too much time with Angie, her fairy tales are rubbing off on me.” Aria muttered. Then more clearly she said, “But I can't do anything about a king! He lives with a bunch of elves and stuff, right? I'd get nowhere near him before they realize I don't belong.”

“Don't matter, don't matter. Here, put this ring on and no one will be none the wiser.” He shoved a grimy ring into her hand. “Just get in there, and you tell that King that Alberich is coming with a bone to pick with him! You go give him my message!”

“Right! I'm going, I'm going...” She trotted away, wanting to get away from the obnoxious dwarf. “Geez. It's all just a dream anyway. Who cares if I actually go to that stupid castle. I'll wake up and it won't matter one way or another.”

Kicking a stone she began brooding as she followed the path. There were no openings onto other paths, so it didn't matter to her where she went. Probably end up at that castle like the dwarf wanted. No matter what she wanted. Story of her life.

Heck, she didn't particularly like anything about her life. Rather, she didn't like how it didn't feel like it was really her own life, and not some stranger's who she'd been pulled in to replace. Even her name didn't feel like it fit her. What was it that fortunetelling fraud said? “An illusion of an identity” or something like that. It made her mad because he was right.

Her parents were accomplished musicians. Mother was a violinist and father played the piano. They traveled a lot and had high hopes that their only daughter would join the music world. Hence the name that had been the root of many fist fights at school. Aria. Imagine their disappointment that their little Aria not only failed at music but had no sense for anything artistic. They loved her, oh certainly they did, but she knew they always wondered why she wasn't what they imagined. That made them awkward around her, as they became overly determined to accept her for being different which instead made them insufferable.

Shaking her head, she studied the ring to distract herself. It looked like it might be gold under the dirt and grease, and had what looked like writing along the inside of the band. She slipped it on, half expecting to turn invisible, but no crossovers in this dream. Really, she didn't feel different, but looking down at herself she saw her clothes had changed. A richly embroidered blue tunic over a soft white shirt with low hanging sleeves, finely woven woolen pants...tights she admitted to herself grudgingly, and boots of sturdy but attractively tooled leather. Thank God it's not a skirt, she thought.

Lifting her hands she felt her face for any changes. First thing she noticed was that apparently the feather hair clip had fallen into her dream and into her short brown hair. Second thing she noticed: her ears were pointed. She jerked the ring off her finger and felt her ears again. Round. Even her clothes had turned back to the jeans and t-shirt she'd fallen asleep in. Relieved, she slipped the ring on again. Relieved? “It's all just a dream!” she scolded herself. “It won't matter once I wake up! I'll be as un-elflike as ever!”

Aria had been so distracted by her thoughts she hadn't realized she'd reached the castle. Yep, she thought, a castle just like all those in every fairy tale and documentary on the dark ages. Too bad, a Fairy King's castle should be more interesting. Then one of the towers lifted itself up and shook off a flock of birds like an irritated dog.

“O-kaaaay. We'll ignore that, take care of our little errand, and find a way to a nice normal dream about winning the Olympics or something.”

She was surprised how easy it was to get in. Seriously, she just walked in through the door past the guards who seemed to be there as a token gesture. Well, it probably helped that she tried to act like she had every right to and would walk over anyone who got in her way. She had to suppress the strange urge to start humming “These Boots are Made for Walking.”

Several exhausting stair cases, dodged questions, questions that couldn't be dodged and were therefor bluffed, and countless hallways and rooms later, she still had no idea where in all this mess the King was supposed to be. This was the most tiring dream she'd ever had. While it had been like exploring some carnival fun house at first, she'd stopped having fun roughly around the twisty corridor that she discovered herself walking on what should have been the ceiling halfway through.

Despite the maze like nature of the castle, she supposed it actually hadn't been as dangerous as infiltrating the Fairy King's castle had sounded. The few “people” she'd run into had looked more like some fantasy equivalent of robots. Talking suits of armor, that usually only asked “who goes there?,” little gremlin like things that looked like they'd been pieced together out of scraps lying around, they didn't talk but were annoying if they were bored when they spotted you, and what she'd thought had been a statue with a spear and a gargoyle playing chess in front of heavily locked door.

Now that she stopped to think about it, this was pretty weird beyond just the obvious. For a castle, this place was practically lifeless. Where the heck was everyone?

Opening yet another door she entered yet another hallway. But the tedium was broken when for the first time she realized she could hear voices, a lot of voices, apparently from the other end of the hall. Putting on her “I'm supposed to be here” expression again, she strode confidently around the corner, inwardly trying to suppress a giddy dance of butterflies having a ball in her stomach.

When she saw the open doors at the end of the hall she stopped in her tracks. At first she thought the giddy butterflies had actually escaped and had relocated their ball to the room ahead of her. “Oh, Angie would kill to be in my shoes now,” she grinned and started forward again. The “butterflies” were actually colorfully dressed people, some of which even sported butterfly wings of their own, and most had pointed ears of some fashion. Or furry ears in some cases. Or none... She tried not to look too shocked at the earless gnome thing talking to something with horns and goat legs.

Soon Aria realized covering her surprise at all the fairy folk she'd never even heard of before was much less difficult than not showing her horror when she actually overheard some of their conversations.

“...the little brat I stole wouldn't stop crying, so I gave up and left it in the woods...”

“...three of them! He tricked three humans into thinking he was a human woman and lured them all...”

“...They just don't give us the respect we deserve anymore.”

“All it takes is some reminders to discipline them. The other day I stopped the fourth attempt at construction with a wonderfully tragic accident. The casualties...”

“...the main dish tonight would be unicorn meat. Have you ever seen a hunt in person? It's so exhilarating...”

Dear God! I thought it was supposed to be humans that hunted unicorns! These “people” are more barbaric than any of the fairy tales I ever heard! How much of this does Angie even know? Aria eyed dubiously a drink someone offered her that looked suspiciously dark red. Wine...or something else?

She was spared from having to think of a way to gracefully decline the crystal glass of something when the collective attention of the fairy courtiers was drawn to a door at the other end of the room. A very tall elf had just entered that was apparently highly respected by his peers.

He was dressed in flowing green and gold and his hair fell like an obsidian fall around his shoulders. Perched on his shoulder was a small fairy with wings that shifted through the color spectrum. The fairy stood and took flight, fluttering away to be lost among the crowd that was pressing in as close as it dared to the newcomer. Smiling at everyone, nodding and giving brief replies to questions or comments Aria couldn't hear, but the elf man continued on his way as naturally as if alone in the room.

And when he left through another door the whole room followed, many picking up their conversations again.

Well, if anyone here is fit to be King, it would be him, concluded Aria as she slipped through the strolling crowd to get closer. Watching him...she felt that for the first time she had an idea of why Angie had never outgrown Fairy Tales. Yeah, he was easy on the eyes like all good elves were supposed to be. “Beautiful” was as appropriate a word as “handsome.” But he wasn't effeminate like people joked about when fantasy films starring elf heroes became popular. Beyond that, he seemed, well, like he knew everything that was being left unsaid by his fawning followers, but didn't let it show.

Or I'm thinking too much. Aria shrugged inwardly. She'd finally gotten close enough that she thought he might hear her. Just as she opened her mouth to call to him, he turned and looked directly into her eyes. His eyes were deep pools of black, but shone with such humor and a sense of mischievousness that she thought they most closely resembled black stars. As they stared into her own green eyes, she realized she hadn't been thinking too much before. He really did know, just as he also knew what she was and that she didn't belong. That friendly smile, it was the smile of a shared secret rather than a Royal promoting his image.

Aria flushed, feeling like a child caught stealing cookies or trying on her mother's clothes. There was no anger in those black eyes, but she was mortally embarrassed. Wanting to leave quickly and find some nice hole to hide in for awhile, she tried again to call out to him so that she could deliver the dwarf's message.

To her shock her voice wouldn't work. To her amazement the ring on her finger suddenly seared her hand as though with fire, molten metal sprung from the gold band and turned into a sword in her grasp. To her complete and utter dismay and horror, she found herself leaping toward the Fairy King with the sword raised to strike a blow.

His eyes still locked on her, the King drew his own sword. If she'd been a less active participant, she'd have wondered just where he'd been keeping that. As it was she was more concerned with the new glint of light in his eyes. Still laughing silently at her, now they also carried an edge as if he welcomed the challenge and possibility of death.

Well you might, but I certainly don't! Aria vainly tried to pull back or drop the sword, but her body would not obey her and lurched forward like a marionette. A flash of light off the King's own sword, a metallic ringing filled the air with the meeting of the two swords, and Aria's sword was knocked away. A hand darted out, and the golden ring was snatched from Aria's finger.

Her body suddenly her own again, and again appearing as a normal mortal girl, she fell to her hands and knees at the King's feet.

“How refreshing to meet such a bold young lady, though different circumstances would have been mutually preferred, I'm sure.” Aria stiffened. That voice. It was too damned familiar, even if she'd only met him once. Slowly she looked up. Those dancing black eyes were solemn and sad. She didn't see the hands of the guards that grabbed her and began pulling her away. All she could focus on were those eyes, asking her why she hadn't listened to his warning about dreams.

* * *

A king. That ridiculous fortuneteller was actually a king. Thinking about it, Aria decided that in a odd way that made sense. What more practical use for magic than taking sneak peeks at the future, and who'd be better at it than a king of magic? But what did he do with that tattoo from before, did king's use those temporary ones you find in gum packs?

It was only by following such trains of thought that Aria could distract herself from the fact that she was sitting on the cold stone floor of a locked room. The room with the chess playing statue and gargoyle in fact. That they were prison guards would never have occurred to her. After all, aren't the dungeons supposed to be underground?

She groaned to herself. “This is the most likely candidate for the worst dream I've ever had. Damn that grouchy dwarf, he tricked me!” She kicked a loose piece of stone. “Never would have figured the Devil would be so stumpy looking.”

“Well the term 'Devil' is more of a symbol, you know.”

Aria jerked her head up and looked around wildly. “Whose there?” She hadn't see anyone else locked in with her, and still couldn't for that matter.

“Up, you silly girl, look up!” Hovering above Aria's head was the colorful fairy she'd seen riding the King's shoulder. It's body was small with wings like a butterfly's, if a butterfly had wings made out of prisms. Even at such a close range, she couldn't tell if it was a boy or girl. Perhaps neither, she thought. “I'm Micare.”

“What are you doing here? Here to keep an eye on me for your king so I don't escape?”

Micare waved a hand, impatiently dismissing her words. “The opposite really. Auberon told me to keep an eye on you and make sure you did escape.”

Aria was nearly positive something must be wrong with her hearing. “You're kidding me, right? Did he forget that I just tried to assassinate him?”

“Beron forgets nothing, even if he likes to pretend he does. He also didn't forget what he saw in your fortune.” So it was him! “He feels partly responsible for not being able to protect you from Alberich, but as king there are certain laws he can't break. So he has to find loop holes instead.”

Micare dropped down to land on Aria's shoulder. Lifting a pale hand the fairy stroked the feather still in Aria's hair. “That's why he gave you an angel feather and warned you about Devils. He hoped it would keep Alberich from enchanting you.” The hand grabbed a lock of hair and pulled sharply, making Aria cry out in pain and anger. She swatted at the fairy, a reflex that she regretted when she thought it would be bad to anger the little imp further. Micare, however, simply flew up out of her reach.

“But you stupid girl ignored the warning King Auberon gave you, and made a deal! You gave the cursed dwarf the opening, and now look what's happened to you!”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it already! So what now? I'm supposed to escape and make Alberich pay for his crimes?” She groaned again. “This dream is getting far more complicated than it needs to be.”

“No, no! You still don't understand! Just because it is a dream, you think it doesn't matter what happens? You must leave! Your very life depends on it!” Micare's wings fluttered angrily for a moment, and it seemed to be taking deep breaths to calm itself.

“If you don't get back to where you entered the dream, you can never leave. And humans can't live in the dreams the way we fairies do. It kills them! Or at the least, turns them into one of the mindless runners who wander around the grass forest. They're humans who never found where they came in and ran out of time. Now they're not even human but some part of them still looks for it.” Micare flew to Aria's hand and patted it in a motherly fashion. “Even silly, stupid girls deserve a second chance. Hurry now, Alberich comes up with another scheme.”

Aria stood up, she wanted to get out more then ever now that she knew what could happen. Upon reaching the door she stopped and looked inquiringly at Micare. “The guards, how am I supposed to get by them?”

“You're dreaming girl! That's how magic works! Fairies have always lived within dreams! If not mortals' dreams then their own. Our magic is the same as when you take your dream and make it listen to you!”

Well that was interesting. Magic is the stuff of dreams, fairly literally. Aria turned and stared at the door. I am going to reach out and push, and when I do it will open. And those ugly carvings will just be stone, and can't do anything. She concentrated on this thought and stepped forward. She pushed against the heavy door, and it opened! Looking outside cautiously, she saw the statue and gargoyle were frozen in their chess game, the gargoyle poised to take a bishop with it's queen.

“Cool.”

“Hurry, hurry!”

“Hey, Micare, just how much time do I have?”

“Don't ask! You don't want to know!”

Well that was far from encouraging, but highly motivating. Aria practically flew down the halls.

* * *

“Dammit, there was only one path before! And how am I supposed to recognize the place I first came in even if I pick the right path?” Aria was frantically looking from tunnel to tunnel, trying to find some sign of her earlier passage.

“Alberich does it! He hates King Auberon, and tries to make everything as difficult as possible for everyone in the dream. Auberon can't even stop him, because he's forbidden from killing any of his subjects. But he can't find any other way to stop him for long, only slow him down.”

Killing him! Micare said that like that was really what the Fairy King would have preferred as the easiest way to fix his problems! She found that hard to believe, recalling the way his eyes seemed to always be laughing with pleasure, or how sad they'd looked at the danger she was in. Can someone with those eyes be such a cold blooded killer, she wondered, or is Alberich really that dangerous?

It occurred to her she'd been dancing to Alberich's tune since she got here, from the moment he'd “saved” her from the mindless runners. He'd probably set up that little rescue too.

Remembering the runners made her stop in her search for a moment. Ignoring Micare's frantic urgings she thought to herself. The runners were always, well, running. If that was part of what was left over from their mind, it probably meant they'd all been panicking as much as her. It was obvious that would only lead to failure. Instead, she tried to calm her mind and use her new “dream magic” to see if she could feel where she'd come from.

At first there was nothing. She frowned, but continued to grope around blindly with her mind. Something seemed to nudge her, like a cat rubbing against her hand, and carefully she turned in the direction she thought it came from. As the feeling grew stronger, she opened her eyes and looked down the path she was now facing. It looked no different than the others, but she'd have to trust her instincts on this.

With growing confidence, she walked down the path and felt the nudge grow stronger, until it felt like the current in a stream and she was running with it. She'd be back in reality in no time at all!

Except that now she really hated dwarfs.

Alberich stood directly across her path, swinging a twisted piece of metal in his hands. “Well girl? Did you give his highness my message?” he cackled.

“Sorry, but it's been returned to the sender,” Aria retorted through gritted teeth. “Now beat it before I decide going home can wait until after I smack you around a little!”

Alberich smiled with crooked teeth. “Nah, nah,you ain't leaving until you deliver my message properly! If you don't go back to the castle now I'll make sure you never get out of the dream. If you lose your mind like the others, I'll just find a new messenger again!”

Aria shuddered. He'd brought the others here? All those poor people running around hopelessly, becoming less than...people. So did that mean he'd brought her too? Just because she'd happened to meet the Fairy King playing around as a fortuneteller.

What did she ever do for karma to jerk her around so badly!?

“No. No more victims. You've played your games long enough Alberich.”

What? Aria spun and stared at the voice she'd heard from right beside her. It was the fortuneteller, the Fairy King, Auberon! This time he wasn't dressed in either the knock-off costume from the book shop, or his robes from the castle. Instead he looked the part of a warrior king, dressed in plates of silver armor and leather that fit his form closely. He wore his sword openly at his side, and stared coldly at the dwarf.

“Haha! What did you come here planning to do, you fool of a king?” Alberich sneered at Auberon even though the other was twice his height and formidably armed. “You come looking for a fight? You can't fight me! If you kill any one who lives in the kingdom you claim as your own, and you'll be banished to the mortals' world!” He cackled again, but Auberon was silent.

“Micare, is that bad?” Aria whispered to the small fairy, still fluttering nervously by her ear.

“Bad, bad, very bad! Silly girl, if fairies live inside dreams, what do you think happens if he leaves the dream for good? He dies! He dies alone and in pain, and then there isn't even anything left of him! Mortal life is to harsh!”

“But he was fine at the bookshop!”

“You're fine here, aren't you? For now at least. And he's king! He's stronger and can last longer than the other fairies. But banishment is forever!”

“Dying a mortal is better than letting this continue.” So saying, Auberon stepped past Aria and advanced on the still cackling dwarf.

“No King! Even if you decided you're ready to die, it won't be that easy!” Alberich stabbed a finger in Aria's direction. “First you see the girl suffer!” A rusty red light shot from his fingertip and straight towards Aria. Crying out in fear she fell down trying to dodge it. When it should have passed harmlessly over her head it instead arched downward, following her.

“Aria!” Two voices cried her name in fear.

A flash of color sped past her eyes, and Micare flew in front of the burst of light, arms stretched wide as if to catch it. The little fairy screamed in pain, it's voice reaching a piercing octave. The sound rang within Aria's ears and pushed her with the need to act. So she did in the first way that came to her. She used her mind, her “dream magic,” to grab the ball of red pain that was torturing Micare.

Her own head filled with pain, unlike any migraine she'd suffered before. It was like her skull was about to split open from the inside, like it had been filled with boiling water and the pressure of the steam trying to escape was too much. With the need to make the pain stop she “threw” it, right at Alberich. He had only a moment to see it coming, before it hit him directly in the chest, throwing him back through the air. He never came back down, his body crumbled like a clump of ash.

Not that Aria saw this. She was curled into a ball on the ground, clutching her head still and crying. Auberon knelt beside her and gently pulled her into his arms. He stroked her short brown hair, and rested his hand on the white feather still pinned above her ear. It was considerably ragged looking, and at his touch it too disintegrated.

“You certainly were lucky. The feather was just enough to protect you from his spell and keep you alive. If there is anything I've done right, it was to insist you be given the archangel's feather.” Aria's eyes opened slightly, and looked up into Auberon's black ones. He saw that they'd become almost gray.

“Mi-care?” Aria winced. Her voice felt too loud in her own ears.

Auberon carefully lifted the small fairy for her to see. Micare's wings had been torn and only shreds remained. Its little body had darkened and its breath was uneven. “Not as well as you, but Micare yet lives. If not for your quick response, it surely would have died.” He lifted the pitiful fairy to his own eye level. “Rest Micare, take all that you need.” The little fairy weakly raised an arm to touch the King's cheek, and vanished. Now there was a tattoo where he'd been touched, of a butterfly with shredded wings.

Aria sighed. “Dreams shouldn't hurt so much.”

“Do you still hurt?”

She opened her mouth to say “yes,” but then realized the pain had stopped. “How did you do that?”

“King's secret my dear.” The playful spark had returned to his starry eyes. With an arm still around her shoulders, he helped her sit up. “You've done a great service to my Kingdom and I. I must choose an appropriate reward for such a magnificent lady.”

“Well, to start with, you could stop talking like that. It gets annoying.”

“Fair enough,” he laughed, “Though it's only a start.” He smiled at her, though a little regretfully. “But now you should return to your own life. Go finish that 'painting from hell' with that lively friend of yours. Enjoy the life you have, and leave the fairy world to your dreams.”

“The way your talking you'd think one of us was dying. If you're gonna insist on rewarding me, then I have another suggestion.” Aria leaned forward and whispered in Auberon's ear, getting shivers down her back when she thought how she was whispering in an elf king's ear. This was one dream she didn't think she'd tell Angie about. Who knew how long it would take her to forgive Aria for having one of Angie's dreams come true?

* * *

Five years had passed. Angie had indeed married a well off man. Many people shook their heads at the marriage. They're too young, they said, it's all about the money. Rumors and gossip discussed how long the marriage could stay together, or if some scandal was involved. Aria simply smiled. During the wedding Angie had worn a hairpin, a white flower with glass beads, that she'd picked up in a bookshop five years before. She wore that hairpin every day, and Aria was certain there could be no happier bride.

As for her...

She sat on the piano bench and stroked the smooth wood and ivory fondly. She enjoyed few things as much as playing this piano for the people she cared about, and it still touched her very deeply to see her parents' tears when she did.

She hadn't chosen this for them, but for herself. Inside, she had always heard the music she'd wanted to play, but it had never come out right. So instead she had buried it deep inside, and pretended she didn't want it. With Auberon's gift, she was finally able to let it out again. As easily as a fairy using his magic in a dream.

Though there was one wish she regretted not asking for, even if she knew it was impossible.

“Does the talented lady know Eduard Mörike's 'Elfenlied?'”

With a smile, she turned and looked back over a shoulder tattooed with a Treble Clef and rose. A small souvenir from a dream...so that she would never leave her dreams too far behind again.

“But of course! Though I'd like to have my fortune read in exchange!”