"They're here for a different mission." The bitter taste at the back of my tongue tasted worse as I said the words.

"What do you mean?" Akira asked.

I paced before them with arms tightly crossed over my chest. "There's a secret mission."

"You mean we've been given a minor mission and they're dealing with something more important?" Tiff scoffed in disbelief. "Only in the books do you get to read that kind of plot. We're the epitome of loser protagonists who have to prove themselves by going through trials that get more difficult with every chapter."

Akira lifted a hand to silence her. "What's their mission?" he asked me.

"Something to do with getting hold of the Omen."

"Omen?" my apostles chorused.

"Yes." My feet came to a halt. "Anyone know what that is?"

Tiff and Lexie turned to Akira. We all did. But he shrugged. "I can find out."

Tiff groaned in frustration.

Lexie warily eyed each of us. "What do we do now?"

"We'll do what's asked of us, of course," I said, smoothing the skirt of my dress.

"What are you planning?" Akira asked.

"Nothing," I innocently said, and he fell quiet. I wondered then how much he knew about his parents. Did he know they were more than just regular passengers on that train?

"If they're not sharing this secret mission with us, it must be because we're all new to this," he said. "It's not a bad thing. It just means we have to do better so they see our potential."

I did not completely agree, but he had a point. "You're right." Well, not completely. If we found out more about this mission and what it was about, it might help me decide if Evensen was feeding me lies. And I wanted to know about this Omen. What it was and what it could do—Why the Saint Council was too keen on getting it, or why it was such a big bloody secret.

"But what about Mars—" Tiff started, but stopped when I gave her a sharp look.

"There's not much we can do about the dog. We have a mission to do."

Akira followed me to my room, hands in his pockets. I paused in the act of tying my hair and raised my brows in question.

He cleared his throat. "I'm just wondering..." His face contorted just a little, which reminded me of his sister. Akiko would twist her lips the same way whenever Spinett said something embarrassing. "The dog was alive when they threw it off the train, right?"

"I think so." When he remained standing on the threshold of my room, I added, "A familiar will always find its way to its witch. I wouldn't worry about the dog."

"I'm not worried."

With a scoff, I gave him a taunting smile. "Liar. Now, leave me alone. I need a perfect hair for today."

When the door closed, I dropped onto my bed and doubled over in pain. "Blast it," I groaned, swallowing hard. Bellatrix nuzzled my leg and licked my shaking hand. "I'm fine."

No, you're not.

"Yes, I'm not," I admitted. I grabbed the golden case from my trunk and popped a pill into my mouth. "The hell with it."

Closing my eyes, I waited for the instant relief. It came fast, but I knew it would be gone just as fast. It used to last me the entire day, but now it could only give me a couple of hours.

***

Felix was already waiting for me in the hotel lobby. Telling my apostles to stay put, I walked up to him, all the while ignoring the scowl on his face. "You must have heard about the commotion from last night," I told him. "I was a little shaken and needed some rest."

"You're not being serious about this. Why don't you want to do this?"

"What do you mean? Of course, I want to do this," I hissed under my breath, the lie sputtering through my lips.

"You'll end up dead on that border if you can't master my design."

"I know," I murmured. "I can't meet you tonight, but I'll do it tomorrow." When he didn't look convinced, I sighed. "I'll be there. I swear on my apostles' lives."

He shook his head and walked away. When I turned, Mertha Krall was staring at me, her three apostles standing nearby, perfectly unharmed from their nightmare. Too bad the monster didn't leave scars. Lucky bastards.

I smiled at Mertha before I gestured for my apostles, who followed me to the exit.

Corey was waiting for us with a Bishop guard. "Your ride is waiting just ahead," he said, guiding me to another white vehicle.

"Thank you," I said before entering the car, which hovered just inches off the ground. As my apostles squeezed inside, I looked behind us and saw Corey opening the door of the other vehicle for Mertha and her apostles before climbing inside himself. "They must be planning for their secret mission," I whispered.

My apostles followed my gaze out the window as Corey and Mertha's car sped past us.

"I'm dying to know what it is," Tiff said.

Me, too, I thought to myself.

***

Philo Salwey could not look Corey in the eyes for the duration of our visit. Although everyone in the room tried to act as though last night had never happened, it was still clear in the way they spoke and answered Corey's questions. They were too eager to please Corey, nodding their heads too much whenever he talked.

They discussed the boring things. The new buildings, the increase in employment, and the school for witches they wanted to put up. Everything had a blueprint. Everything seemed to be perfectly going great. Except for the folks. The plans were all for the witches and the new ones that had come from neighboring Saint cities looking for better opportunities. Nothing for the non-magical humans who built the buildings and did all the manual labor.

In the five hours I sat in that cushioned chair like an old lady with ailing joints, I saw what Salwey's outbursts last night were all about. It made me even more curious to visit his dream tonight. I wanted to see for myself what Exodus was really like through his eyes.

After the meeting, we endured a peaceful lunch with the governor and the other important people in his office. Corey took me aside and asked if I was ready for tonight. Did I need to meet more people?

"I only need dreamers," I said.

He looked at me the same way he always did: seductively. But I knew he wasn't entirely attracted to me. It was there in his eyes—the way he tried to look beyond mine. To see if he could glimpse the dreams I could offer. He was tired of the rainy nights. He was craving for something more. "That's my good girl."

I almost shuddered at the statement. Turning away, I saw Mertha Krall surrounded by the other delegates again, the wintry smile on her face frozen. She looked perfect in her pathetic role in this pathetic world. It was all farce, all of this. Yet it was where I was, thus it was where I should thrive.

For now.

I endured another hour before Corey whispered to me I should get back to the hotel and prepare for tonight's mission. That was before he and Mertha walked with Salwey and the other delegates into a room for another meeting. One I was not obviously welcome to.

The taunting look Vivec threw my apostles didn't pass my notice. Nor did my apostles' obvious despise when the door shut closed and we were left alone.

"Worst roles ever," Tiff said to Lexie. "This is why I never dreamed about being a protagonist. I've always wanted to be the villain."

I stiffly turned. "Let's go," I said.

"Will you give them nightmares later?" Lexie asked, a drop of hope in her voice.

"Probably not on purpose. But who knows? I might just discover their inherent nightmares. Those are the useful ones."

***

I didn't wait for Evensen to appear in the dream. I didn't have much time after popping the last pill. Throwing my dream repertory a lingering look, I turned the door blue and stepped out.

At first, I thought we were back in Genesis, but the streets looked different. There were more trees, the sky clearer. The streets were as clean as the Saint Society capital, but it felt quaint. The crowd seemed to move slower, too. And no vehicles in the air. Just plain cars with wheels that actually touched the ground.

I looked around, wondered where Mertha was. Then I saw her and realized she looked different. Her black hair was tied neatly at the nape. She wasn't wearing her flowy dress, but a plain gray shirt and white pants. Her head was bent over a book. As I contemplated making the mermaid monster appear again through the pages, I heard a familiar voice call out her name. I looked ahead and found Felix Katz running up to her with a bag, his hair a mess, spectacles resting on the bridge of his nose.

Mertha closed her book and jumped to her feet to meet him. I scoffed as they kissed and walked off hand in hand across the street and into a cafe.

I took the bench she vacated and sat there for a moment, watching them through the glass window. He talked a lot, and she listened with a smile, eyes glowing with love. Then I yawned and flicked my fingers, completely erasing her dream, turning everything into black.

Sitting alone in her chair, Katz and the coffee shop gone, Mertha turned, confused. When she saw me, she frowned. "Did you just arrive?"

"Yes," I lied, looking at the darkness around us. "Good Lord. No wonder you don't remember your dreams. There's nothing here."

She stood and hid a smile as she looked down at her seat. When her eyes returned to me, her hair was down and she was back in her flowy white dress. "How do we do this?" she asked.

"I summon the dreamers."

"There's a change of plans. We'll only visit Salwey tonight. Corey believes he holds all the answers. If we don't get much, we can visit the others."

"Fine. I'll summon him now. You wait here."

"That's not the plan," Mertha said. "You will take me with you."

"That's not how it works."

"Aster, I know you can travel through dreams, and I know you can take me. I've never encountered an Astral who cannot take anyone with them through their realms."

My smile froze on my lips. I looked at her for a long time. Her gaze did not waver. "Fine," I said, waving a hand. A white door appeared as I summoned it. "That's your door," I lied, before pointing to the correct door. "And that's my door."

She scoffed. "I knew it. You have your own special door. It has the same color rules?"

I just shrugged. "Maybe."

Her smile disappeared. "Stop playing games with me. This is a serious mission."

"One we're late for," I wryly said, walking toward the door. "Are you coming?"

It was a little tricky. As she stepped through, I had to change the door color at the perfect time, otherwise she'd wake up and realize I was lying. The first dream we walked into was that of one of the delegates.

"Let's not waste our time here. We have to find Salwey."

Three more doors and we found him. The governor's dream was a dark, empty alleyway.

"Where—"

Mertha gasped when I joggled her against the wall and into the shadows. Placing my hand over her mouth, I pressed a finger against my lips. Her eyes were wide as I searched the dark. The scant light from the street was the only thing that guided my sight.

A long shadow cut through the light and was later joined by another in the end of the alleyway. I willed the wall behind Mertha to disappear, causing her to stumble back. I caught her just before she fell and as she threw me an accusing glare, pushed her toward the new path I created and through another door and a flight of stairs.

"Is this all real?" she asked, looking around the room we entered.

"Some of it," I murmured, opening a window. I looked down and saw Salwey. "Too far. Now, don't scream," I said, turning as one side of the floor detached from the wall and fell. Mertha smothered her cry with a hand as we slid down. The floor turned into a giant rug, which caught us just in time, then softly lowered until our feet touched the ground.

"Now, you're just showing off," she gritted out.

I walked to the wall with a silent chuckle and created two tiny holes. Just enough for each of us to look through. Salwey was perspiring profusely as he listened to the other man.

A vampire.

"Is he a dream or a dreamer?" Mertha asked.

I stared at the man with the shaved head. Young, pale, deep-set eyes and slim nose. "Neither," I whispered to Mertha. "He's his nightmare."

"Can you control him?"

Of course, I could. Unlike when I visited Vivec's dream where his fellow apostles shared the same dream as him, this one was solely Salwey's. The vampire was just his greatest fear haunting him. "First, I need to know his name," I lied.

Mertha hesitated for a moment.

"Klyne Alistair," she whispered. The light through her hole showed the hard look in her eyes. "He's the leader of the feral group that killed the Katamas years ago. He's wanted by the Saint Society for his crimes." She turned her head to look at me. "Can you make him talk now?"

I nodded.

"Make him ask Salwey why he's here."

"Why would—"

"Do it."

I sighed. Then Klyne Alistair finally spoke, his voice playful, as if he enjoyed Salwey's fear. There was a glint of menace in his eyes, just as how Salwey perceived him to be. "Why are you here, governor?"

Salwey frowned in confusion. "You called for me." He looked around, swallowed. "I can't convince them."

"Sure you can," Mertha murmured to me. "Go on. Tell him."

"Sure you can," Klyne Alistair said.

"B-But I can't. They're the only ones who can open the borders. And even if they can, there's no way your sister can pass through."

Alistair's hand wrapped around Salwey's neck, pushing him against the wall. Mertha snapped her head toward me. "I'm not doing it," I murmured. "It's the nightmare."

"You'll get her through the border. Do you hear me?" Alistair hissed at Salwey.

The man nodded, face red.

"Don't come back here without good news," Alistair said before he turned and disappeared into the shadows. The back of his neck was bare. No halo.

"Can you get into his dream?" Mertha asked me. "You know his face now. And you have a name—"

"I can," I said, "But that would mean traveling further away from your dream." My eyes followed Salwey. He crossed the street. When he got to the other side, a table was waiting for him with wine and food. He poured a glass, hands shaking. Then he screamed, realizing it was blood. I straightened, sensing the nightmare was slowly ending.

"I'm fine with it."

"But he's a vampire, Mertha. A feral. He doesn't have a halo. In case you don't know, vampires don't really sleep unless they want to. They prefer hibernation. A vampire on the run from the Saints is sure to practice the same thing. The only way I can visit Klyne Alistair's dream is through a summon. That means he'll fall asleep wherever he is now and that's terribly suspicious."

Her jaw tightened. "We need to find out where he is."

"Salwey knows where he is," I said, dusting my dress. "Just take the man and torture the truth out of him."

"That's not how we do things. Certain laws protect Salwey. We can't just take him in for questioning."

"I'm sure Corey can find a way to get the truth out of him."

"If we find this place in the real world, maybe we can find him."

"Glad you're a thinker," I said.

She looked through the hole again. Salwey was crying over his bloody drink. "This is the best you can do?"

"I can give him another nightmare, but Corey told me to be subtle. If he as much suspects we're doing this, you can say goodbye to Alistair, because he'll disappear from here and you'll never see him again for another century." When she remained quiet, I added, "We can come back some other time."

"We don't have much time. We have to catch Alistair."

"And I assume you also mean his group?"

"Of course."

"Why do you think he wants to let his sister through the border?"

"Who cares?" Mertha asked, turning around. "Take me back to my dream."

I nodded, and the white door appeared. I turned it blue just as she stepped through. We were back in the cafe, and I sensed her panic. Outside, across the street, the younger version of Felix Katz was crossing toward us. "Where's my door?" she asked, restlessly looking around.

Amused, I pointed to the white door. She didn't even say goodbye.

When she disappeared, so did the cafe. But the door remained, waiting for me.

It turned blue at my will and I pictured a face and murmured a name.

When I stepped through, it was not back in my old room. It was a rundown apartment building.

At first, I thought it was abandoned, but I realized people just moved quietly here. There were no glass panes attached to the windows. Just wide gaping holes that let through the moonlight that cut through the dark. No splendid view of a beautiful city below, either. Nothing but smoke that rose from the equally dilapidated houses below.

Finally. A look into the grim part of the perfect Saint Society.

I changed my dress into a pair of dark trousers, a gray shirt, and a black coat. I fancied a hat, so I gave myself that, too. Then I added smears of dirt on my clothes, wrinkled them just enough to make sure I looked like I belonged there. Dressed like the common Exodus folks who walked past me carrying trolleys, little humans, and bags, I nonchalantly wandered down the hall. Stepping over drying rain puddles on the uneven cement floor, I could hear conversations through the closed doors and grimy walls.

My heart jumped to my throat when a hand grabbed me by the arm, followed by the face of a woman with bloodshot eyes. "I've got good drinks here," she said, lifting a bag in my face. A drop of blood dripped from the edge. "Fresh from the market."

The veins in my neck engorged at the smell.

"Three-hundred for you, beautiful."

"No, thank you."

"Two-fifty. Come on. It's fresh as I said."

I shook my head, and she pushed me away before walking off, murmuring snidely. My eyes lingered on the bag swinging in her hand.

Shaking my head, I waited until the impulse to lunge for the bag disappeared.

Then I saw him walking in my direction, head bent as if in deep thought. He didn't even look up as he walked past, his brow furrowed. I turned to stare after him.

The one good thing about dreams is that it could be too real that you wouldn't know you were sleeping until you woke up. Like a ghost that didn't know it was dead.

I took a deep breath and smiled as I followed Klyne Alistair inside his dream.