Dreams

We’re at the chasm’s edge. Each breath I take lasts a day. Years pass in a single heartbeat. Gaps are opening up in my thoughts – sometimes I’m just not here. Time is skipping, the way I used to skip. It’s the tunnel. The tunnel of all ends. Last time I was here I wasn’t ready. Now I am, and the tunnel knows it, and it’s playing with my mind. We’re detached from everything now, beyond everything. I think it’s just dawning on Kathy how strange this place is.

‘What do you dream?’ she said to me as we entered the tunnel.

‘Of finding my son,’ I said at once. ‘For a long time now that’s all I’ve dreamed of. If you were a mother you’d understand.’

‘And your son? What do you think he dreams of?’

It was an odd question. I stopped, flexed my wings to release the cramp, and thought. Then I laughed. ‘He always used to like running away,’ I said. ‘When he was tiny I could never keep track of him. When he grew older, he told me he dreamed about flying beyond the world.’ I paused. ‘What about you? What do you dream of?’

‘Of being the dancer I never was. Of not growing up big-boned and clumsy.’ Her face flushed and she turned away. ‘It’s a silly thing really.’

‘Dreams are never silly. They’re at the heart of us.’

We traipsed on. We were both hungry, and Kathy finally remarked on how little we’d had to eat during our travels. I explained about the air – it’s filled with charm, and the charm sustains us.

‘I thought the days of charm were long gone,’ she said.

‘They are,’ I replied. ‘But this is the tunnel of all ends, which goes everywhere. Somewhere it opens on that golden age, and on other worlds where charm delivers nourishment. I suppose the magic just sort of ... leaks through.’

After that we said no more, and now here we are at the precipice. This is the place, all right. Down there in the dark, the ironghylls are chattering. Hidden in their hive is my son – or whatever is left of him. I have no illusions about my quest. The idea that he may be alive is a tiny flame in a vast black emptiness. But it burns all the same.

I want to say goodbye, but in the end I can’t do it. I suppose that makes me a coward. I launch myself off the edge, tuck in my wings and dive into the abyss. Goodbye, Kathy. I’m nearly at the end of my path – good luck finding yours.

The air scrapes my face and flanks. It’s hot and sharp. I’m falling fast. The hive hurls itself towards me. I hear a cry from above. I twist my neck. Some pale in the dregs of the light from tunnel entrance. Something jumping after me, following me, falling without wings. Kathy!