Nightmare’s Edge by Bryan Davis

The little girl he had known had changed. She was still sweet and lovely, but her face gave away a good deal of pain. Had married life dimmed her bright, precocious aspect?
    “I expect that your decision will pay dividends,” Simon Blue continued. “The emotional upheaval from both meetings will serve our purposes.”
    Solomon nodded toward the outer wall. “Turn on the engine. I’ll make the introductions.”
    Dr. Simon waved toward the perimeter and called, “Begin the sequence.”
    Instantly, violin music poured from somewhere in the darkness — sweet, vibrant, and alive with joy. Nathan searched for the source of the lovely sound — Vivaldi’s “Spring,” one half of the arrangement he and his mother had performed so many times before. As he mentally played his part, his wounded fingers flexing slightly with each note, another man walked slowly into view, an older gentleman with wispy gray hair, large ears, and a kind, wrinkled face. With a violin tucked under his chin, he smiled as he stroked the strings with fervor.
    Nathan smiled. It was Dr. Nikolai Malenkov, Francesca’s adoptive father.
    “Daddy!” Francesca leaped ahead, but Solomon held her back.
    “I’m sorry, dearest one,” he said, “but you must not approach him now.”
    Francesca pulled away. “Why? I haven’t seen him in months.”
    “We are identifying your emotional energy signatures so the receivers can track you and Amber while you’re in the dream world.”
    A new voice called from the outer wall. “Reception is excellent. The emotion waves match the predicted amplitude and frequency.”
    “Are you capturing the energy?” Solomon called. He turned and addressed the others. “That’s Dr. Gordon of Earth Yellow. I will explain in a moment.”
    “Yes,” Dr. Gordon replied. “Now we need the counterbalance.”
    As the violin played on, Solomon reached for Amber’s hand. “Francesca, I would like to introduce you to Amber, your supplicant, whom you have met in many lonely dreams.”
    Francesca turned toward Amber. “But I have never met — ”
    Her eyes suddenly grew wide. As Amber’s golden glow strengthened, Francesca stepped closer, her chin trembling. “I . . . I do know you.”
    Amber raised a hand and touched Francesca’s cheek, then crooned, her voice soft and lovely. “My beloved, I have guided you through troubled waters, both in dreams and in reality. To finally touch you and feel your love is my dream come true.”
    “I know.” Francesca’s voice quavered. “Why didn’t I remember you until now?”
    Amber brushed a tear from Francesca’s cheek. “At the dawn of every day, you remembered my face, my song, my love, but the troubles of the waking hours would always push me into the periphery, a realm in your mind that you would revisit when you swept away the cares of the day and retired into slumber.”
    Francesca heaved a short breath. “I called you” — she licked her lips, her voice faltering — “I called you Sarah, my shepherdess.”
    “You heard that name whispered on the winds, for Sarah is the shepherd of the three worlds. She guides them in the cosmic dance.”
    “Wave forms are balancing,” Dr. Gordon called. “We are nearing perfect harmony.”
    Solomon touched Amber’s shoulder. “Will you open the dream gate for us?”
    Her glow now pulsing, Amber glanced around the room. “For how many? I have never taken more than one.”
    Solomon reached for the candelabrum and pulled out one of the long, slender tapers. “We need six, including you.” He handed her the candle and reached for another.
    “How do you know so much about this?” Francesca asked as he gave her the second candle.
    Solomon withdrew a small notebook from his back pocket. “You talk in your sleep.” He opened it toward the back and squinted at a page. “Now comes the dance, correct?”
    Clutching the candle close to her chest, Amber looked at Francesca hopefully. “Do you remember the steps, my