Read Online The Stuff of Dreams by Hideyuki Kikuchi - Free Book Online

spark became twin beams of light that could have bored a hole through D’s face. “As for his features . . . he looked too good to be of this world—like you, you know.”
    D brought the cup to his mouth. His eyes seemed be gazing at Old Mrs. Sheldon, watching something else, and not focused on anything all at the same time.
    “Why did he have to bite Sybille?” the old woman asked, the light in her eyes growing more intense, flickering with a touch of madness. “Why did he have to go and make her dream? And what kind of dreams did he give her, anyway?”
    Of course, there were no answers so D answered with another question, because, after all, that was the whole reason he’d come. “Who was closest to the girl?”
    “Let me see . . . Ai-Ling.”
    “Where is she?”
    “Her home’s a farmhouse a little over a mile southwest of here. I wager she’ll be around at this hour.”
    D stood up, prepared to leave.
    “Wait—” the old woman said, and the Hunter stopped. “Have another cup of tea, won’t you? I don’t want to let my first chance at conversation in a long time run off so easily. For all I know, it may be another ten years before I get a chance to chat with anyone again. The children don’t even come out here to catch the sticky bugs anymore. This may be a peaceful village, but I’m lonely.”
    D reluctantly took his seat again.
    “Not only are you handsome, but you listen to people, too. Someday I’m sure you’ll settle down somewhere. Find yourself a good wife.” And leaving him with those words, the old woman went into the kitchen.
    “A peaceful village, isn’t it?” D muttered.
    “That it is,” a hoarse voice responded from his left hand as it rested on his knee.
    “Is it a good village?”
    “That I can’t tell.”
    “We’re in the same boat then,” D said.
    “Just because it’s peaceful doesn’t mean I’d call it good . The same can be said for villages that aren’t so peaceful. There’s nothing good in this world. Not in Nobles, or in humans—or in you, for that matter.”
    D turned his face to look out the window. The plains changed from minute to minute; each and every verdant leaf was charged with the vitality of morning, declaring that there was still more of the blazing season of fall to come. In contrast to the white light that surrounded him, D alone was a wintry shadow.
    Accompanied by a faint aroma, the old woman returned. “Here you go!” she said, setting down his cup. In the middle of the cup of thin, amber fluid floated a single blue petal. The petal was like a tiny blue sea.
    D brought the drink to his mouth with his left hand. Needless to say, he kept his right hand free to be ready for any sudden attacks. Though his left hand stopped, it didn’t seem like an interruption to his fluid movements.
    “What is it?” the old woman asked, smiling happily.
    “Drink some,” D said.
    “Huh?”
    “Taste yours. It smells different.”
    “Oh, that? You know, I went and changed the tea leaves. This is homemade, grown in my very own garden out back. The last pot was some cheap stuff I got off a merchant from the Capital.” Winking at her guest, she drew the steaming liquid through her wrinkled lips. “There. Are you satisfied there’s no poison in it now, my suspicious Hunter? You’ve gone and spoiled the mood. It’s okay; you don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to.”
    D brought the cup to his mouth. The old woman watched with pleasure as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. Setting the cup down, D got to his feet. He was headed for the door, but halfway there he turned around and asked, “Did you dream about me, too?”
    The old woman nodded.
    “And what did you think?”
    The brief silence that followed may have been her wrestling with concerns about what it would be polite to say. “I can’t speak for the rest of ’em,” Mrs. Sheldon finally ventured, “but I thought you were dangerous.”
    “Dangerous?”
    “In the dream, you seemed