Page 62 of See You in Your Dreams

“So what?” He turns to me, his brows raising as I step (float?) toward him, halting at his side. “You used to do this all the time.Just copy whatever you did back then.Makethe dream obey you.”

Ash’s expression twists into a scowl, his eyes narrowing. “Did you miss the part where Ifailed?My dreams got the better of me and my family. What makes now any different?”

“You’re older. You’re wiser.” I grab his hand and fix him with a grin. “Plus, you have me here to cheer you on.”

He hesitates, his forehead creasing. I step closer, resting my free hand on the firm planes of his chest. “You can do this, Ash. Bullshit or not, a lot of those articles I gave you agreed on one thing—dreamwalking is about your strength of will. And I don’t know anyone as hardheaded as you.”

A startled chuckle bursts from him. Shaking his head, he lets out a long sigh. “All right. Here goes nothing.”

Turning away from me, he faces the multihued expanse and closes his eyes. At first,nothingis precisely what happens. My stomach sinks as I glance about, growing increasingly anxious with each passing moment.

Come on, Ash…I urge silently under my breath.I believe in you.

I let out a loudwhoopwhen the unchanging landscape finally shifts, the vibrant currents veering off course. Waves of color lap against Ash’s ankles, vibrating with something disconcertingly close to excitement as the scintillating sea parts around us, opening onto a black void beneath our feet.

Vertigo seizes me as I stare into the abyss.This is only a dream. Nothing can hurt you here.That doesn’t stop my startled shout when reality lurches around us. In the blink of an eye, the swirling colors are gone. Instead of black nothingness, I stand on thin carpet, glancing around at a familiar desk and bed.

“What happened?” I demand. I take a step forward, testing the ground underfoot. It seems solid enough, the carpet giving way just like I’d expect. “Did you wake us up?”

Ash slowly opens his eyes. His face breaks into a faint grin. “See for yourself,” he says, gesturing toward the open door leading into the hall.

I squint at him, unease prickling my skin. “What do you…?”

I trail off when I look back at the door and discover a flowering archway blooming in its place. I take a hesitant step toward it, my footstep squishing more than it should. Glancing down, I find that the threadbare carpet in Ash’s room is gone as well, replaced by a bed of soft grass.

“What do you think?” Ash grins and holds out his arms, turning in a slow circle. “Thought I’d spruce the place up a bit.”

“Oh, it’s definitely spruced up,” I say dazedly. I force myself forward, stopping to sniff the flowers when I reach the archway. “Everything feels so real. Even these flowers smell exactly like I’d expect.”

“Of course, they do,” Ash says, his grin growing. “After all, it’syourbrain deciding how they should smell.”

I furrow my brow. “What do you mean?”

“You think I’m capable of holding all those details in my head at the same time? I’m only supplying the dream with a general blueprint:transform my aunt’s house into a garden. Our brains fill in the rest.”

Glancing back at the flowering archway, I brush a hand over a pretty blue flower, its petals velvet-soft beneath my fingertips. “That’s…huh. I’m pretty sure if I think too hard about that, my brain might literally explode.”

Ash chuckles. Grass squishes beneath his feet as he approaches, stopping beside me right before the arch. He offers me his hand. “Shall we?”

A faint blush creeps up my neck as I grip his hand, letting him lead me into the hall. The bed of grass continues here, running like a living carpet all the way to a set of stairs formed fromtangled vines. Thick branches wind overhead, creating a ceiling of rustling leaves and dappled sunlight.

“This is impossible,” I murmur, trailing my free hand along a wall formed from rough tree bark.

“Everything’s possible in a dream.” He grimaces. “Both the good…and the bad.”

Overhead, the sunlight streaming through the ceiling canopy darkens a hair. Thunder rumbles in the distance. I give Ash’s hand a comforting squeeze, racking my brain for possible distractions while I tug him toward the stairs.

“What about birds?” I ask as we step onto the woven vines, the stairs they form surprisingly springy underfoot. “Or other animals?”

A brightchirpechoes nearby. In a flutter of wings, a chickadee lands on my shoulder. I stare at it, my eyes widening. “You made this that fast?”

Ash’s lip quirks as he shakes his head. “No.Youdid.”

“Me?”

“Yep.” He nods his head toward the chickadee. “Technically, that bird and everything else here isyourdream. All I’ve done is given it a little push to get it started. What we create now, we create together.”

As we descend the stairs, fresh flowers bloom across the vines in our wake. Wonder fills me. “Ash, this is incredible! I can’t believe you haven’t been doing this yourself every single night.”