“But why Brian?” Jordan asked. “Couldn’t any of us perform the same ritual and have the same result?”
Cliff Finley shook his head. “I’d have to do some research, but I’m pretty sure it has to be him. A variety of reasons, not the least of which is, he’s the Dreamer.”
Brian rolled his eyes, putting his head on the table, nearly in his plate. “Did I mention that I really hate being the Dreamer? That I hate all of this? Why can’t I just be some normal, stupid teenager who makes mistakes and decisions that don’t involve people getting killed—or buried alive—or dancing naked?”
© 2019 Dellani Oakes