Volume Nine
Chapter Four
True Selves
In which Dodger learns who he thinks he really is
Chapter Four
True Selves
In which Dodger learns who he thinks he really is
Before
it reached Dodger, the animal leapt into the air, opting for a high striking
attack. Dodger braced himself, blocking his stance as wide as he could to
accommodate the weight of the oncoming beast. Instead of tearing into Dodger
with its powerful jaw, or shredding Dodger with its sharp claws, the wolf
landed sideways against him, knocking Dodger about three feet backward where he
landed hard on his rump. Just as Dodger fell back, he watched an arc of flame
burst across the very spot he and the wolf occupied only scant seconds before;
the result of the dragon letting loose with its dying breath.
“Holy
Hanuman!” Boon cried.
While
Dodger appreciated missing out on the funerary roast, he still had an armful of
hairy beast to wrestle with. He tumbled to the ground, hugging the wolf tightly
to him, not giving it a chance to right itself. Dodger then rolled over, taking
the dominate position as he pinned the animal to the ground. Out of the corner
of his eye, Dodger could see that Boon and the stranger circled the struggling
pair, swords at the ready. Dodger grabbed the wolf’s paws and tried to bear
down on the top of its head with his chin to keep it from snapping at him, when
he heard that familiar voice again.
“Get
off of me, you oaf!” the wolf said.
Dodger
fell still atop the animal. “Did you just speak?”
“Yes,”
the wolf said. “Now please get your sweaty bulk off of me.”
Dodger
rolled off of the wolf and leapt to his feet. He stared down at the animal,
which stood to shake off the dust and ash. Strange as it seemed, Dodger swore
the thing sounded just like Lelanea. But it looked nothing like her, in any
form. Certainly not the full bodied brunette Dodger had spent far too many
hours mooning over. And definitely not the massive werewolf that bounded across
the train top in the pouring rain just a few days prior.
This
wolf was half the size of the one Dodger saw during his fight with the weather
demons, bearing the demeanor of a large dog instead of a mythical beast.
Instead of a thick hide covered in silver fur, this had the traditional white
and gray coat of a wild wolf. It had the traditional mouthful of sharp teeth
too, rather than the massive grouping of fangs that occupied the werewolf’s
mouth.
Looking
up at Dodger, the wolf snarled in displeasure.
“It’s
impolite to stare at a lady,” the wolf said.
And
yes, it sounded something like Lelanea.
“Lelanea?”
Boon asked.
She
swung her head toward Boon with a soft whine. “I’m afraid so, my love.”
“You
know this beast?” Sir Rodger asked, gesturing toward the wolf with his
brandished blade.
“That
beast is my beloved,” Boon said. He handed his blade to the knight and stepped
toward the wolf, lowering himself to one knee as he reached out to her.
Lelanea
took a step backward. “Don’t.”
“I
must,” he begged. “It’s been so long.”
“Not
like this.” The wolf’s eyes welled with tears. “Please. I’m a monster.”
“No,
you’re not.” Boon bent forward, running his fingertips across Lelanea’s fur.
“You’re as beautiful as you ever were.”
Lelanea
shifted closer to Boon, allowing the man to lean in and scoop her to him as he
nuzzled his face into her shoulder—the best they could manage at a hug. The
pair murmured in quiet apologies and promises and other sentiments of love.
Dodger
caught the knight’s attention and motioned him off to one side. The two of them
walked away for a bit, until Dodger could no longer hear the wolf weeping.
“You
have to forgive my friends,” Dodger said. “They have been apart for quite some
time.”
“Ah,
I see,” Sir Rodger said. “Am I to understand the lady plays victim to a terrible
curse?”
Dodger
hissed through his teeth. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“Mr.
Boon quests for her cure, yes?”
Dodger
wasn’t sure what reason Boon gave the man for suddenly appearing in Sarah’s
dream. He supposed a quest was just as good as anything. “That he does.”
“And
you?”
“Me?
Oh, I am just the hired help.”
“Mr.
Boon is lucky to have such a vigilante on his side, Mr. Carpenter.”
Vigilante?
Now there was a word Dodger didn’t remember folks using in the good old days of
yore. The man’s speech had an odd edge to it. As if he was trying too hard to
be something he wasn’t.
“I
shall leave you to your mutual quest,” Sir Rodger said. “May you both find a
cure for what ails his blushing bride.” Sir Rodger raised the pommel of his
sword to his face, clicked his metal heels and bowed, ever so slightly. After
this, the man sheathed his blade, turned about face and clanked away leaving
Dodger alone.
Dodger
rushed back to the embracing couple. He stood over them, coughing loudly until
they looked up. “I hate to interrupt, but our friend is getting away.”
“He
won’t get far,” Boon said as he released his hold on Lelanea and began wiping
at his tear streaked face. “I know where he has pitched camp. We should be able
to catch up with him before he has a chance to break down and get on the road
again.”
Lelanea
shook off the passionate embrace and rested on her haunches. She stared up at
Dodger for a quiet moment. “Strange. I can understand you being solid, Boon.
After all this is a dream. And I guess I can understand why I am like this. But
what I don’t understand is who Dodger is supposed to be.”
“I
know,” Dodger said. “That Sir Rodger has a lot of nerve. Who does he think he
is, looking like me?”
“Yes,
as strange as that other man is, I was talking about you.” She raised her nose
into the air and sniffed. “You smell like our Dodger for certain, but you look
nothing like him.”
“It
is him, all right,” Boon said. “No one handles a gun like our Dodger.”
“What
are you two talking about?” Dodger asked. “A change in clothes doesn’t unmake
the man. Besides, I used to dress like this all of the time, back in the day.”
“What
days were those?” Lelanea asked. “When you robbed stagecoaches?”
“Here,”
Boon said as he lifted the broad sword and held it out to Dodger. “Have a look
at yourself.”
Oddly
enough, regardless of the action it had just seen in battle, the sword still
gleamed with a bright and reflective surface. Another effect of the dream
world, Dodger supposed. He peered into the wide strip of mirror like metal,
gasping at what stared back at him.
Eyes
that weren’t his eyes. A mouth that didn’t belong to him. A nose that had no
right being between the two. All parts of a face that wasn’t his face. He
thought for a moment he recognized the man, but who was it? For some reason
Dodger couldn’t think straight. He supposed it was part of traipsing around in
Sarah’s dreams; his own memories were difficult to access. Especially the
things he didn’t normally want to remember. He pulled one of the guns,
inspecting it for anything to jog his foggy memory.
A
sleek, long and intricately engraved silver barrel greeted him. At the base
rested a fat cylinder, six shots total, with a pearl grip and gold trim. Each
handle bore the etched, gold inlaid monogram of TC. Dodger dropped the gun the
moment he recognized it. The black clothes. The face he knew from somewhere,
long ago. It all made a sick and sorry sense.
Boon
appeared in the dream as he truly was; the stalwart and healthy hero, ready to
rescue anyone in need.
Lelanea
came as what she saw as her true self; the wild, barely tamable beast that
slept just underneath the surface of the beautiful woman.
Dodger,
following suit, showed up in Sarah’s dream as he had grown to see himself; the merciless
mercenary in black.
More
specifically, a man named Tyler Crank.
“No,”
Dodger whispered at his reflection.
“Dodger?”
Lelanea asked. “What is it?”
“Nothing,”
Dodger said, stooping to snatch up the gun again.
“You
seem troubled by your appearance.”
“I’m
fine.”
“You
are not fine-”
“It’s
nothing,” Dodger snapped. “Just let it go.”
Lelanea
narrowed her eyes and glared over the length of her mussel at him. The look
said she had no intention of letting anything go. Ever.
Dodger
tried his best to ignore her threatening glower. “We better come up with a plan
before we lose our guide. Boon, what have you told him so far?”
“Not
much,” Boon said. “Though, he seems to think I am a wizard of sorts.”
“A
what?” Lelanea asked.
“A
wizard. When I first jumped into Sarah’s dream, he witnessed my arrival.”
“Which
means he saw you appear out of thin air,” Dodger said.
“I
thought I would have a panic stricken local on my hands and a lot of explaining
to do, but he accepted it as an every day occurrence.”
“Because
it probably is.”
“I
must admit,” Lelanea said. “I am entirely lost.”
Dodger
grinned. “I’ll bet Sarah is dreaming about knights and dragons and a land of
magic ‘cause those are the kinds of fairy tales Al used to read her. I know,
because those are the ones he read to me.”
“That
would explain a few things,” Boon said. “Such as Sir Rodger’s behavior. When he
isn’t decked out in full armor, he dresses pretty much like a ranch hand. And when
he talks he sounds like a 49’er trying
to sound like a knight.”
“That’s
because her mind is mixing up the stories and reality. She’s never heard a real
knight speak, so he speaks a little like the stories say he should, and a
little like Al always did.”
“I
think I understand,” Lelanea said. “She is blending aspects of her upbringing and
desires to fill out the gaps of her fantasy.”
“Hence
the gun slinging and sorcery,” Dodger said.
“And
I think we will find,” Lelanea said, “that Dodger is the main character—the
knight in shining armor—because you’re the man who rescued her mother.”
Dodger
didn’t remember it that way. He remembered himself as the man who snatched a
little girl from her normal life and sent her off to live with a crazy old coot
who also happened to be a highly trained government assassin. He was the one
who put her in Rex’s path, and thus the reason she was in this endless sleep to
begin with. He was also the one who almost killed Sarah’s mother.
“Certainly,”
Boon said. “That makes perfect sense. That is why she knows your face well
enough to cast you as the lead.”
“She
only saw me once,” Dodger said. “And that was a long time ago.”
“She
must’ve had a drawing of you then. Because he looks exactly like you. Well, a
much younger you.”
“Where
would she have gotten a drawing of Dodger?” Lelanea asked.
“I
don’t know,” Boon said, scratching his chin in thought. “Maybe Al had one as
part of that organization they both belonged-”
“Patricia
may have had one,” Dodger said over Boon.
“Who?”
“Sarah’s
mother. Patricia had some talent for charcoal sketches. She probably kept the
one she drew when we …” Dodger’s words trailed off when he realized the other
two were listening far too intently. He waved off the idea. “None of this is
important. We need to come up with a feasible excuse for traveling with this
fellow before he leaves. He’s our key to finding Sarah.”
“Princess
Sarah,” Boon corrected.
“Princess?”
Lelanea said. “I see this Sarah is a young lady with ambition. I like her
already. So, what do we tell this Sir Rodger?”
“He
already thinks we are on some kind of quest for a cure,” Dodger said. “That
might be the best lie to keep up.”
“A
cure for what …” Lelanea started, but her words faded when she saw Dodger
quietly staring at her. “Ah, I see. That is a good a reason as any, I suppose.”
Boon
cleared his throat, as if nervous, then said, “I have an idea. I’ll go on ahead
and catch up with Sir Rodger. You two hang back a bit and take your time
following us. That gives me a chance to explain that I think the princess has
the secret to the cure. And perhaps I can get him to take us along.”
“Sounds
like a good plan,” Dodger said.
Boon
smiled as his face lit with naked joy. “Really? You think so?”
“Sure.
You take lead on this one. You’re already familiar with the man and he seems to
trust you. I think all this black puts him off of me.”
“Well,
all right then, I’ll just go, shall I?”
Dodger
nodded in the direction Sir Rodger followed. “Go on. We’ll be there directly.”
Flashing
a wide smile of both surprise and delight, Boon turned and ran up the hill,
after Sir Rodger. Dodger watched as the line of trees swallowed the big man
whole.
“Thank
you for that,” Lelanea said.
“For
what?” Dodger said.
“For
allowing Boon to lead this mission. He needed the reassurance. He has been a
nervous wreck ever since he learned he wasn’t quite dead.”
“He
shouldn’t worry. We will get his body back for him. I promise.”
“It
isn’t that.” Lelanea stood and walked a few steps ahead of Dodger, looking
toward the trees into which Boon disappeared. “He worries what will happen once
he returns. After all, you’re the head of security now. What place will he have
when he is whole again?”
Dodger
grunted. “Boon and I discussed this already. I told him he could have his job
back. It’s rightfully his.”
“Is
it?” She looked over her shoulder at him for a quiet moment, as if weighing either
his words or his worth. “Either way, thanks for trusting him with this. It is
sure to sooth his nerves.”
“I
didn’t do it to sooth his nerves. I was serious when I said he had a genuinely
good-”
“I
know why you did it.” Lelanea left Dodger to ponder this as she trotted off
after her beau.
Leaving
Dodger to ponder why he really put Boon in charge.
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