Freaks: Alive, on the Inside!

“My love! At last!” whispered a sweet, trembling voice.

I froze in mid nod. I had never stayed up all night before. I had never walked so far. I took a deep breath. My mind was playing tricks on me.

“You are at the threshold of dream, and my spirit can reach you through the ring, I think,” said the eager voice. “Open your eyes, but slowly, and perhaps you may see me.”

I did as the voice asked, expecting the dream to dissolve, but beside me sat a shadowy woman veiled in gauzy cloth. I shuddered.

“Did you like my dance?” she asked.

“Dance?” I frowned.

“I danced for you to the music of harps and pipes.” The shadow leaped to her feet and rolled her hips, then flung herself down beside me again, breathless laughter on her lips.

“That was another dream,” I said.

She laughed again. “You were always stubborn, Ankhtifi.” She leaned forward and seemed to peer at my face. “How strange, my heart knows you but my eyes do not. You have changed in looks.” I couldn’t place her accent.

“Madam,” I said, sure I was speaking to a ghost and thankful I was only dreaming, “I do not believe we have met.”

“Do you not remember me?” she asked, oh so sadly.

“I can barely see you,” I answered. The moon was low in the sky, and the oval that must be her face was a blur.

Her outline appeared to waver as she sighed. “I shouldn’t expect you to remember,” she said. “You went to your spirit and left your worldly body behind. But your heart spoke for you at the great judgment when it was weighed on the scales of justice, and the lord of the underworld sent you back to search for me, at the request of his lady wife, she who is life, she who pities me. I felt it the moment you walked beyond the gates of death and reentered the world. I am but a shade,” she whispered, “but I have traveled years and miles to find you.”

“Why?” I asked. I couldn’t fathom any of her words, let alone what a ghost would want with me.

She laughed as if surprised by my ignorance. “So our love might live again.” Then her tone grew desperate. “I am in danger. A man of bones has kidnapped me. Each day takes me farther toward the setting sun. I am among brigands who would think nothing of disposing of my body if it suited them. If they destroy what is left of me, we may never be together again.”

“Can’t you tell anyone?” I asked, wondering what on earth I could do.

“I am a prisoner,” she explained. “No one who can help can hear me speak—no one but you. We are connected because of the ring. It is my heart—your heart. Find me, help me, and I will explain our bond.”

I glanced nervously at the ring I wore.

“Where is it you go this night?” she asked.

She was a very inquisitive dream ghost. “I thought to join that traveling show, if they have a job for me,” I answered, gesturing toward the tent, “and find my fortune.”

“Which way does this caravan travel?” she asked.

I tried to visualize the poster I had seen. “West, I think.”

She sat up straight and threw her arms open with joy. “You are coming.”

“Um, no,” I said, leaning back a touch.

“Yes, your heart knows it even if you do not,” she insisted. “And what employment do you seek? What is your skill?”

“I’m a knife thrower,” I admitted.

She chuckled huskily. “Ah, that makes much sense, my love.

Still a warrior after all.”

A bird warbled close by, and I looked up, surprised. The sky in the distance had lightened to a smoky pearl.

“I must go,” said my strange companion. “There’s not much time left to meddle with dreams.”