Chapters (53)
- Front Cover
- Letter from the Author
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Contents
- • One •
- • Two •
- • Three •
- • Four •
- • Five •
- • Six •
- • Seven •
- • Eight •
- • Nine •
- • Ten •
- • Eleven •
- • Twelve •
- • Thirteen •
- • Fourteen •
- • Fifteen •
- • Sixteen •
- • Seventeen •
- • Eighteen •
- • Nineteen •
- • Twenty •
- • Twenty-One •
- • Twenty-Two •
- • Twenty-Three •
- • Twenty-Four •
- • Twenty-Five •
- • Twenty-Six •
- • Twenty-Seven •
- • Twenty-Eight •
- • Twenty-Nine •
- • Thirty •
- • Thirty-One •
- • Thirty-Two •
- • Thirty-Three •
- • Thirty-Four •
- • Thirty-Five •
- • Thirty-Six •
- • Thirty-Seven •
- • Thirty-Eight •
- • ∞ •
- • Thirty-Nine •
- • Forty •
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- Excerpt from Be Dazzled
- One
- Two
- About the Author
- Back Cover
The reverie’s rage finally broke through the whistle’s suspension. The world unfroze with a wrenching shutter, and the bedazzled creatures—the beetle, the owl from above, and the spider—were all charging the Dreadmare. Above it all were Helena’s screams as her life flowed from the wound in her leg.
“Quickly, please,” said Poesy.
The Dreadmare stormed forward in disjointed harmony, seizing upon the beetle in a black flash. A few ruthless stabs later and the beetle’s shell had been pried from its back, only half a wing jutting straight up.
The Dreadmare charged the spider next. As it galloped, its wiry body melted like shadow. It sank low, its legs peeling apart and multiplying, until it matched the spider in shape. Now two arachnids wrestled, black legs braiding with pink, until the Dreadmare grew many more legs and dug them into the spider’s back. It ended all at once, like a corn kernel popping open.
Like mist, the Dreadmare vanished, and then the owl’s cry drew everyone’s attention upward. Somehow the Dreadmare had materialized around the bird, dragging it right out of the air. The grappling pair struck the ground violently. Kane fell forward, close enough to see the Dreadmare’s beak closing over the joint of the owl’s wing, rending the stone flesh like it was wet clay. The owl’s shrieks died off.
Among the fresh rubble, the Dreadmare stood and regarded Poesy coolly.
“I believe one still remains,” Poesy said, and the Dreadmare flickered out of sight. Then she turned to Kane. “You called?”
“Excuse me—”Adeline began again, but Kane cut her off.
“Ursula!” he pointed at the pile. “Save her! Please!”
Poesy nodded. “Of course, my dear, but first things first.”
The Dreadmare flickered back into sight next to Poesy. It held the serpent’s head in its jaw, which sent Poesy into a gleeful clap.
“I’ve been looking for this color garnet! How wonderful. Is that it then? No more interruptions?”
The Dreadmare tossed the head atop the carcass of the owl, then stepped back.
“Wonderful indeed,” Poesy confirmed. She picked her way over the rubble, prodding the sparkling gore like a prospector.
Kane limped to the gazebo. Was no one going to help Ursula? And what about Helena? She reached for Kane’s ankle, and he knelt by her side, trying not to look at the exposed bone deep in the gash of her leg. She gripped his arms weakly.
“Willard?” She spoke as though from deep in a dream. “I was…I didn’t…”
“It’s okay,” Kane said. “Help is here. We’re gonna get you back to the real world. But I need you to help me unravel this, okay?”