Read Best Laid Plans for Free Online

sent up little puffs of dust when he patted it. He sneezed and then sniffed, wiping away a tear.
    The room was a perfect square with white walls and dark-stained beams crossing the ceiling. There were no doors. He stood and went to the window so that he could peer outside. Twin suns hovered in infinite darkness, a tiny dot circling each. A third light appeared between the suns, a ball of flame streaking a long tail behind, its surface shimmering and changing until it became a face made of fire. There was a blinding flash of light. Sammy raised his hand to protect his eyes, staggered backwards and fell into the chair. He rapidly blinked away the stars behind his eyelids and lowered his arm. The curtains were being drawn by a man in a brown hooded robe.
    ‘Two suns light the heavens above the Void,’ the man said in a voice that crackled like paper being scrunched up. ‘An unusual sight for an Earth-boy, and even more so for a white one.’
    Sammy sank back into the chair and shut his eyes tight. If he tried hard enough he might find himself back at home.
    ‘You are not dreaming, boy.’
    Sammy heard the man shuffling towards him and began to shake. Heat fell on his face, feeling like the time he’d got too close to the fire at the Winter Fest pig roast so he could watch the fat dripping and fizzing. Rhiannon had pulled him away by his ear; told him he’d be roasting on a spit if he did it again. He opened his eyes a crack and peeked at a face of golden flame. He blinked against the glare, but couldn’t look away. The blazing eyes made him keep looking, silently promising him a secret that seemed as necessary as breathing. Tears blurred his vision as the heat burned his skin and stung behind his eyes. Sammy began to whimper, his head rocking from side to side. Sweat soaked his clothes and streamed from his forehead. He shook so hard the chair began to clatter against the floor, scraping and twisting, jumping on the rug. His breathing grew quicker, high up in his chest. He felt his heart thumping, the blood rushing in his ears. His eyes widened, fixed upon the burning face, and he opened his mouth to scream; but the scream turned to a gasp as something unseen stabbed his heart. White-hot flames ripped through his innards, singeing, melting, blistering. A burning coal lodged in his throat, choking him. Steam seared his nostrils, and the tears streaming down his face sizzled and boiled.
    The hooded man turned away and the pain stopped. Sammy sagged in the chair. He was panting like a dog after water. He lifted his arms and saw no blisters. The skin was unharmed. His hands patted his chest. Nothing. No hole, no blade. He looked to make doubly sure. He was drenched in sweat and the skin of his chest rippled like a beaten drum, but there was no blood—not like there had been with his dad.
    ‘I am the Archon,’ the cowled figure said. He parted the curtains slightly so he could look out. ‘Come.’
    Sammy forced himself out of the chair and stood at the window. One of the suns appeared larger, as if it had drawn nearer. The dot circling it was now a ball of greyish-blue.
    ‘Aethir,’ the Archon said. ‘The world of the Dreaming. Watch as it turns.’
    The Archon waved his fingers and time seemed to speed up in response. The suns shifted across the dark, the planet turned on its axis, and blackness crept over its surface.
    ‘Two sides to the Dreaming, boy. Light and darkness. You are now looking at Qlippoth, the dark side of Aethir. These are the nightmares of the Cynocephalus.’ Light spilled from the Archon’s hood as he spoke. Sammy had no idea what he was talking about.
    ‘Huntsman’s people have a connection with Aethir. They worship the offspring of its creator, but the lord of Aethir is a pitiable creature, frightened of his own shadow.’ The Archon bowed his head as if remembering. When he looked up he pointed to the smaller of the two suns, its own orbiting planet a black speck.
    ‘This other world,’ he