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“Dreams are the source of all magic, but what if dreams contain more than what a Weaver earns? Surely the magical power that created them can’t just fade. What if there was a way to access it?”

Stardust’s frown was thoughtful. “You’re suggesting dreams are like a raw material before it’s been processed? I suppose it’s possible.”

My eagerness grew. “If we could find a way to preserve the magic still remaining within these dreams, perhaps we could give it to the Dreamers who’ve been stolen from.” Gathering dreams could not only help restore the stolen dream dust, but could possibly be a way to stockpile magic for a future crisis.

The more I considered the idea, the more certain I felt about it. There had to be a reason I was so drawn to watching and collecting dreams, and I was beginning to wonder if my unique abilities were for a higher purpose, like it was my destiny to do something momentous with dreams. My connection to both Earth and the Dream World put me in the perfect position to help maintain the balance…if only I could figure outhow.

I returned to carefully examining the jar. From the glimpses I could see, this dream had been woven for an elderly fisherman. I’d captured a portion of a relaxing afternoon on the lake, whose soothing movements and gentle ripples had undoubtedly provided him a very peaceful sleep.

I searched the air around the dream for any signs of magic, but other than the sediment lingering on the bottom of the jar, the rest of the dream’s magic seemed to still be contained within the dream itself.

I nibbled my lip. Perhaps I could experiment with the dream and see what I could discover. If I opened the jar and only allowed a portion of it to slip out, I could try using my own magic to excavate the magic within the dream; now that I had more power, I was more confident that I could control it. Hopefully conducting my experiments here would be safe; anywhere else might attract unwanted attention from the Council.

I cautiously lifted the lid of the jar and the dream immediately burst through, as if it’d been waiting expectantly for a chance to escape. For a moment it hovered as a blue glow of light, but before I could even summon my magic to harness the dream, it burst to life, causing a swell of water and a few lily pads from the lake to escape the dream, soaking my skirts and most of the floor. I groaned.

“That went well,” Stardust said wryly as she morphed into a towel and began soaking up the excess water. “After the fiasco the other escaped dream caused on Earth, I’m surprised you were foolish enough to release one again when you already know that doesn’t work.”

“I thought dreams would have a different reaction in the Dream World than they have on Earth.”

I frowned at the jar, now empty of one of my prizes, the dream having vanished after bursting to life outside its prison. I sighed and picked up another, this one containing a fern-colored, triangle-shaped dream of a picnic in a meadow, which would be a less disastrous one to come to life should something go wrong again.

Rather than opening the jar, this time I summoned my magic to see whether I could penetrate the sealed jar and capture a portion of the dream’s magic that way, but the glass acted as a barrier impossible to cross. My frustration deepened. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t access the dream dust when the jar containing it didn’t have any special enchantments to keep it locked away like dream lockets did.

Stardust paused in wringing out her wet-towel form over one of the potted ferns decorating the room. “What are you trying now?”

I sighed and pulled my magic back. “Obviously something that isn’t working.” I studied the dream again, as if its secrets could be as easily revealed as the story it contained. “I wonder if the dreams can be recreated somehow…or even reused.” If I opened the jar again, could I try and control the dream long enough for me to extract its magic?

I opened the lid only a sliver, just enough for my glittery lilac magic to swirl through the crack before the dream could escape. I poked and prodded the dream experimentally. Nothing happened. I pulled my powers back with a frown.

Stardust morphed back into her fluffy cumulus shape with apopand nestled against my side. “Maybe there’s nothing more that can be done with dreams.”

Discouragement dampened my previous elation. Was she right? My doubts lingered until determination pushed them away. It was too early to give up. “I’m the only one with this ability, and thus it’s my duty to use it responsibly. I will use these dreams to help the Dream Realm.”

If only I could figure outhowto do so.

Chapter 19

My disappointment over my inability to use my powers to help the Dream Realm extended into the night, for as usual the Weaving wasn’t going well. The time I’d dedicated to exploring my dream abilities had once again caused me to neglect my weaving studies, leaving me ill prepared. Now I felt as if I were scrambling to come up with something more elaborate and complicated to make up for it.

I frowned as I studied my dream plan, which I’d created around the star stitch I’d studied earlier today…a stitch I hadn’t had time to perfect. Could I risk using it anyway? I nibbled my lip, deliberating, before deciding I’d probably practiced it enough to use in a real dream. Considering I hadn’t thought to create a backup plan, I was left with little choice.

I created each stitch slowly and carefully, pausing every so often to consult the diagram in the book. Stitch by stitch, I created a dream about dancing trees, one I’d copied from a toddler in my most recent dream-watching session. To my surprise, the flowers held together much more tightly with the star stitch than they’d done with the basic stitch I’d been using up to this point, eliminating the holes which had previously riddled my dreams.

I relaxed my tense posture as I trimmed my last thread and held my completed dream up. Darius looked up from the book he’d been reading while he’d been waiting and frowned. “The stitches look unnaturally tight, almost as if they’re about to break. Are you sure you did them right?”

A heat of defensiveness swelled in my chest. “Of course I’m sure. I wouldn’t have used a stitch I didn’t know.” Guilt immediately followed the words, especially when Darius rose a single eyebrow, as usual seeming to see right through me.

But rather than retort, he simply said, “I suppose we’ll see how your stitch holds up.” Without another word we tucked our dreams around Maci. I rummaged through my bag for my weaving mirror, but before I could use it, Darius brushed his hand on my arm, causing me to jolt as his warm, tingly touch.

“Look, Eden.”

Darius’s nightmare had already seeped into Maci, but before mine could follow, the threads started splitting, causing the already rambunctious flowers to tear apart. Loose strands of torn thread hung limply from their wilted petals and the details in their auras faded like washed-out colors in a watercolor, too frail to ever be reused. Just like that, the dream was ruined. It was yet another failure, one of many that could cause me to lose not only the only place I called home, but the first real friends I’d found.

I hastily tried to blink back the tears already stinging my eyes. Maci whimpered from her cradle as a cloud of dream dust swirled into Darius’s locket, but tonight he didn’t gloat. Instead he turned to me, his expression grave.

“This has gone on long enough. Something needs to be done.”

I couldn’t hear another post-victory speech, not with the sting of my broken dream still fresh. “I’m trying.”