Lair of Dreams (The Diviners #2)
Page 33“No.”
“There must be others, though. Don’t you think? What with all these Diviners coming out of the woodwork now. Oh. Forgive my manners. I’m Henry DuBois the Fourth. Pleased to meet you, Miss…?”
“Ling Chan.”
“Charmed, Miss Chan.”
“I’m not particularly charming,” Ling said, without smiling.
“Well, I make it a point never to argue with a lady.”
The waiter arrived with Henry’s noodle dish and Ling turned suddenly chatty. “As I was saying, the most exciting thing about Mr. Marlowe’s exhibition is the science pavilion. I hear they’ll have a model of the atom on display.…”
As the waiter set Henry’s dish down, he gave Ling a curious look. “A friend of yours, Ling?”
“Yes, Lucky,” Ling said, without missing a beat. “We were in science club together in school. He’s just come to talk about Jake Marlowe’s Future of America Exhibition.”
“The smartest,” Henry said, playing along.
“I’d better go. Things are very busy without George,” Lucky said before walking away, and Henry saw the girl’s face fall.
“Is everything all right?”
“Fine,” she snapped.
It clearly wasn’t, but Henry had been raised not to pry. “Science club?” he said instead, raising an eyebrow. “I suppose now is a bad time to tell you that I nearly blew up my chemistry lab back at boarding school. It’s an amusing story—”
“Why are you here? I assume it’s not for the egg rolls.”
Henry’s easy charm faded, and his smile with it. “I’m looking for someone I lost.”
“Lost how? How do you lose a person? Why don’t you look in the telephone directory?”
“Only with the dead.”
Henry’s fork stopped on the way to his mouth. “You see the dead?”
“In dreams I do. Sometimes someone needs to speak to a departed relative. If I take something of theirs, sometimes I can find them.”
“How long have you been able to do this?”
“It started a year ago.”
“Almost three years ago for me,” Henry said. “But it’s gotten stronger in the past few months.”
“The same for me,” Ling said.
“I learned to set an alarm clock to wake me. I found that if I go longer than an hour, I get ill. You?”
Henry toyed with the noodles on his plate. “Last night, for the first time, I finally came close to finding my friend Louis while we were standing outside that old building. Right after I grabbed hold of your arm, I heard his fiddle. It was Louis’s favorite song, played the way he always played it.” Henry leaned forward. “I want to go back in tonight and see if it works again. I want us to try to meet in the dream world.”
Ling scoffed. “You know how dreams work. They’re slippery. We can’t control them—we’re only observers. Passengers.”
“We always have been, but what if we can change that?” Henry said. “Are you at least willing to try? You just said you can locate people. Maybe if I gave you something of mine, you’d be able to find me in the dream world. If that works, we could try to go back to that place where I heard Louis’s fiddle.”
“And maybe I can become Queen of Romania,” Ling said. “There’s no promise that we’ll find each other or that we’ll be able to return to the same dream. It’s like a river, constantly moving and changing.”
“Please,” Henry pleaded. “Won’t you help me?”
Ling looked at Henry for an uncomfortable length of time. She didn’t want to become involved with this dream walker. But she had to admit she was curious. There had been something interesting about their combined energy last night. What if they could do more together? “All right. It’ll cost you. I charge for my services.”