Stars Dancing [Dreams-To-Lovers Romance]

SLYDAR

"Alright, little man, I gotchu." No, it wasn't my son, he was decades past nightmares and rocking. This was Pitch, my grandson, Bitsy's boy, and could I call it a "nightmare" when it'd happened during the day?

"Daymare?"

"Shitmare" was more like it.

I held Pitch on my lap and rocked him, then looked down at what was clutched in his little hands. Same thing as always: Red Pheonix, the graphic novel the Known Cosmos Earth Press'd published over a decade ago. Yep, my grandson was an oddball. Some kids cuddled blankets, others plushies, but Pitch preferred the Red Phoenix story.

We'd even gotten plushies made as a promo for the special edition print run of HC Maron's bestselling graphic. Bit weird: a sexy, scantily-clad half-bird, half-woman toy, but it worked. Well, for a lotta people, it worked, but not for Pitch. No, all he wanted was the book, not some fuzzy, plumped-up version of his favorite character.

I caught the edge of something from Pitch's thoughts: an image that was more than a picture. It wasn't just a drawing in a book, it was a real-live being because there was feeling beneath it, and it wasn't scary. It was comfort and protection and grace for someone who just couldn't figure out how to be in the Known Cosmos.

Pitch wasn't like other kids. He didn't say much, but he wasn't like Ronnie and Cyn'd been when they'd lived in the Known Cosmos. He wasn't a no-talker; he was a— what? How do I say it?

"A poet-talker?" The first time he spoke it was in lines that seemed like riddles, and we'd written them down. I've got them memorized, so I'll tell you right now:

"Daddy, I think I heard you.

Your voice was a breeze, and I knew it no more."

Maybe that doesn't strike you as much, but Pitch'd been two and a half years old, and it was the first words he'd ever said aloud. And his dad was nowhere near him at the time. That's a whole other story, but I can't tell you where Pitch's dad is 'cuz I don't know. But Pitch heard something, and in our family, we listen to the winds. I think I've made that quite clear, so when my grandson started speaking in poetry, I heard more than the lines he was saying.

And as I held him after his daymare, seeing the Red Phoenix in his mind, I knew that something more was happenin' with him, though I didn't know what.

He loved that book Red Phoenix and never put it down, and something in his dreams had connected him to the girl with fiery wings. All of this hearkened back to the day his mom'd signed a contract with HC Maron, and all of it was one mystery after another.

Fifteen years, a series of graphic novels, complete with plushies and special edition print runs, yet the whole story continued to unfold in riddles that didn't rhyme.

Mind going quiet, Pitch fell asleep in my arms, so I laid him back on the bed, covering his tiny frame with a blanket, and putting his favorite graphic under his pillow the way he liked.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

So, Red Phoenix, you're not just a story, are you? Pitch knows something, feels something, is connecting to something. No— not something. Someone. Is this a game? 'Cuz you know how I feel about supernaturals messing with kids: not good. And I'm the master of games in this reality. Sly Fox is watching you, Phoenix. Your move.

Leaving the bedroom on silent feet, I opened my pad and videoed someone I didn't know.

"Hello Mr. Maron, I'm Slydar Joon of Known Cosmos Earth Press. It's been a long time since you've spoken with my wife, but I have good reasons for callin' you today. I want you to tell me the entire story of how you wrote the Red Phoenix, and I'd like you to tell me right now."

And so he did.

It wasn't a surprise, no these things happened in our family all the time: dreams that were poetry; songs that were people. And that was the tale that HC Maron wove.

As a young man, he'd dreamt of a woman called the Red Phoenix, and when he woke, the story spilled out of him and onto the page. Like a man possessed, he spun the tale of two women separated across realities, and nothing— not even death— could keep them apart.

I thanked him for telling me the truth of his story then went to do something most telepaths liked to avoid, but I'm not most people, am I? And if I was gonna unspin the web the Red Phoenix had woven, I needed to understand my grandson's mind a little more. So I laid on his bedroom floor and breathed slow and deep, letting myself drift on currents that weren't quite oblivion.

Pitch's mind was mostly silent with the deep sleep of children, but I could sense him. Once I had him in my grip, I let go of myself to fully merge with him. I was less Slydar and more Pitch in that moment, and I could see inside his mind and whole being.

The world had a ruby tinge to it, full of life and color, golden light dancing on flower petals and the sound of chimes in the air. A little girl was sitting in a meadow, surrounded by reedy grasses and humming to herself. She looked up, lips curved in a familiar smile, and golden wings stretched from her back. I grinned, and all within me was peace and contentment.

I broke contact, separating my awareness from Pitch, chest heaving as I sat up on the bedroom floor, once again back in my own body.

Right then, Pitch was only four years old, but he was already spending part of his life in the Unknown Cosmos. For that wasn't a dream, it was a reality. A different world, and the Red Phoenix wasn't his imagination, she was his friend. And probably, some day, more than that.

Holy fucks. I thought I'd had it bad since I'd sensed Rory on the telepathic plane more than a year before she knew about me. Yeah, you remember how this book started? When I seduced her with my mind-boggling mental skills? Yup, I'd waited a year before doing that, sensing her, wrapped up in her, going mad with longing for her.

I thought it'd kill me, and she'd been in the same Cosmos as me. Sure, in a different galaxy, but I knew who she was. I knew I could get to her in time.

But Pitch? A phoenix-type of girl? Who wasn't a story HC Maron had made up? She was an actual being somewhere in the Unknown Cosmos who'd befriended Pitch already? What the fuck were we gonna do?

I was 'bout to go to a dark place when I caught two scents that brought me back to my senses. Acrid coffee and hay. My two dads. Both had left the Known Cosmos decades ago, but they were never far away.

There wasn't even a breeze that time. Didn't need to be. They just showed me that they were close, and that was enough. They'd been in the Unknown Cosmos for decades, reaching across realities as aromas on the wind. Just an occasional presence letting us know they were never too far. Maybe they knew something about this phoenix, maybe not. But they definitely knew Pitch, so they'd be watching over him.

My family wasn't alone. We never had been.

Nope, Rory and I didn't go venturing into the Unknown Cosmos like our family members had done when they'd lived here. Having visions and getting esoteric all the time wasn't for us. We liked having two feet in the real world, even if we wrote crazy stories to tell people the truth about Five Spheres and the mystical way to get out of the 9 Galaxies.

We liked things understandable and solid, but Pitch was throwing me for a loop, and that meant something was coming.

We'd had glimpses of it, sure. We've told ya about them. Everything going black for a few minutes here and there. But those moments were few and far between across decades.

No more. Something was happening, and Pitch was in the middle of it. And no matter what it was, he had me at his back.

Sly Fox is on it, Pitch, I'm with you every step of the way. Whatever this is, we face it together, grandson.

And that was all I needed to know. I'd keep all my senses open, and use all my will to help Pitch through every day of his life. And the story was more or less straightforward for a long time after that day. You'll have to keep readin' to find out more.

Sometimes it was simple, sometimes not. Most days were like Rory said, full of good memories and quiet magic. But when it wasn't quiet? Well, that's when everything changed, and trust me, that part of the story you do not want to miss.