Juniper Berry by M. P. Kozlowsky Page A

“You see, I pull dreams into reality.”
    Juniper and Giles exchanged dubious glances.
    â€œAh, but you’ll want proof,” Skeksyl said, detecting their hesitation. “You’ll want a little taste. Of course. Come.”
    With Neptune taking flight, Skeksyl walked past them and back down the hall, stopping before the first door, this one with a carving of an overflowing chalice with people swimming in its liquid. Or were they drowning? “Step through this door and by the time you reemerge, there will be no doubts in your minds. What you see in this room I can make a reality. I will show you your dreams in a handful of dust.”
    Effortlessly, their grinning guide threw open the door and waved them through.
    The room was black: the walls, the ceiling, the floor. Blackness layered upon blackness with blackness between. The door closed swiftly behind them, and they could not see each other or even their own hands before their eyes, let alone a way out. They were confined to the dark, and all was silent.
    Juniper had to speak to make sure she wasn’t alone. “Giles?”
    His voice found its way through the dark. “Did we make a mistake?” He sounded very close, and a moment later she felt a hand grasp her arm and slide down until they locked fingers. The touch was delicate, heartwarming. At that moment she didn’t need her vision; she knew it was him. Her hand tightened its grip.
    It wasn’t a surprise that she could feel Giles trembling, sending a wave of quivers from his body to hers. For both of them, there was much fear, much in question, their only comfort being that they had each other.
    â€œIt’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.”
    â€œWhat if he doesn’t let us out? What if this is a trap?”
    But Juniper had no chance to respond. In the following seconds came the sudden sensation of falling. She was sure of it; she was in free fall. Her hair flowed behind her, and the air rushed past her face, whipping the clothes on her body and the skin of her cheeks. Any sense of direction was immediately and utterly destroyed in this riddle of a room. She didn’t know if she was upside down or right side up or where the door was or if she was even anywhere near that room anymore. She was tumbling through dark air, head over heels, the bottom pulled out and never replaced.
    And yet it was a serene feeling. Strangely, they were lulled into total ease, and neither spoke, taking it all in: the utter weightlessness, the complete freedom. Juniper felt her problems fading away, her concerns crumbling. They could have been infants once again, safe and gently rocking. It was so tempting to just give in to it.
    Minutes gave birth to even more minutes, and still they fell and still nothing came into view. If they had room for ominous thoughts in their tranquil minds just now, they would wonder if it were possible to fall forever. Would they sleep while falling, grow while falling, live while falling? And if they ever did land, what would happen to them? Splat?
    But such fears never entered their minds, and they eventually came to a stop. They didn’t land on anything; there was no crash, not even a jerk, just an ease into rest, as if falling into zero gravity.
    And sure enough, with hands still clasped, Juniper and Giles were floating, and all around them were millions and millions of stars.
    The light allowed them to see each other’s shocked faces, the awe stretched across both. Although it should have been freezing, the twinkles of the stars warmed their very bodies, head to toe, inside and out; although they should not have been able to breathe, each exhalation was exhilarating. They were in the depths of space.
    Shockingly, without the slightest hint of a sound, a massive space station streamed by, floating as if it weighed no more than an air bubble. It passed them by, the size of a small city. They could see every detail, every bolt, every scratch, the