Smith The Hollow Boys: The Dream Rider Saga, Book 1

The Dream Rider Saga, #1
1. Auflage 2022
ISBN: 978-1-928048-26-8
Verlag: Spiral Path Books
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, Band 1, 381 Seiten

Reihe: The Dream Rider Saga

Winner of the 2023 Aurora Award for Best Young Adult Novel

Winner of the 2023 juried IAP Award for Best Young Adult Novel

At seventeen, Will Dreycott is a superhero...in his dreams. And in yours.

Eight years ago, Will's parents, shady dealers in ancient artifacts, disappeared on a jungle expedition. Will, the sole survivor, returned home with no memory of what happened, bringing a gift...and a curse.

The gift? Will can walk in our dreams. At night in Dream, Will hunts for criminals-and his parents. During the day, his Dream Rider comic, about a superhero no one knows is real, has made Will rich.

The curse? Severe agoraphobia. Will can't go outside. So he makes his home a skyscraper with everything he needs in life-everything but the freedom to walk the streets of his city.

Case, an orphan Will's age, survives on those streets with her younger brother, Fader. Survives because she too has a gift. She hears voices warning her of danger. And Fader? Well, he fades.

When street kids start vanishing, the Dream Rider joins the hunt. Will's search becomes personal when Case breaks into his tower to escape her own abduction. Fader isn't so lucky.

As Will and Case search for Fader and the missing kids, an unlikely romance grows between the boy with everything and the girl with nothing except the freedom Will longs for.

But as they push deeper into the mystery, they confront an ancient power feeding on these forgotten kids to restore itself. And once restored, no one in the world will be safe.

To defeat this creature, Will must do the impossible.

Go outside.

---

Indiana Jones meets Teen Titans in The Dream Rider Saga, a fast-paced urban fantasy trilogy from 'one of Canada's most original writers of speculative fiction' (Library Journal).

'This arresting series kickoff ... grips from the start. ... Thrilling YA fantasy.' -

'An assured, confident novel. ... A must-read story for YA fantasy fans.' - (? Starred review)

'Inventive, engaging, and boundless fun.' -

'A fun supernatural tale with well-developed characters and a touch of romance.' -Kirkus Reviews

Autoren/Hrsg.

Smith, Douglas

Leseproben

Chapter 1: When I Live My Dream

AT SEVENTEEN, WILL Dreycott was a superhero.

In his dreams.

Happily for Will, right now, he was dreaming.

To start his night as the Dream Rider, he “awoke” as usual on the Bed of Awakening in the House of Four Doors. Will knew he wasn’t really waking. He was asleep. But entering Dream always felt as if he had finally woken up. As if his time spent in the “real” world was time spent asleep, waiting to return here.

To return to Dream. To be the Dream Rider.

Brian, his favorite Doogle, waited for him. The creature sat beside the bed, its head on the covers, staring at Will.

Doogles were dog-shaped—sort of. Kind of like a Dalmatian, white with black splotches, or the other way around. But with a snout like an anteater, ears like a koala, and eyes like an owl.

Big nose, big ears, and big eyes. The better to smell, hear, and see you with, little girl. Or old man. Or middle-aged woman. Or whoever or whatever Will set his Doogles to search for in Dream.

Okay, so they weren’t much like dogs at all. But they were his creations, his logical constructs in Dream, and he thought of them as his dogs.

Dogs that searched.

Doogles.

Will stood and looked around. The House changed each night. Tonight, it was a round, domed chamber of white marble with dark wooden doors of varying shapes—rectangular, round, oval, and square. The four doors were carved with writings in Latin. Or Greek. Or something. Languages weren’t his strongest school subject.

He scratched Brian behind his ears. “Evening, Bry. I missed you, buddy.” In reply, Brian curled his long, whip-like tail into a spiral, a Doogle display of happiness.

Will tugged at the costume hugging his slim frame, again regretting the form-fitting spandex. But by now, hundreds of millions of people recognized the Rider—and that recognition gave him power in Dream. Too late to change his appearance.

Besides, the costume looked cool. It was black as the night sky, its surface speckled with blazing red comets with silver tails. Gray clouds drifted over his chest, obscuring then revealing the moon behind them. The moon, which changed phases like the real one, was full and bright tonight.

A black cloak, its hood currently thrown back, completed the look. A jeweled clasp in the shape of a twelve-pointed crystal star fastened the cloak at his neck.

Yeah. Cool.

He considered the four doors the House presented tonight. Which to choose?

“Nyx!” he called.

A cloud of gray mist the size of a beach ball formed before him. Inside the cloud, a woman’s face appeared—blue skin, violet eyes, and long, purple hair floating around her head. She was striking, but too sharp-featured to call beautiful.

Seeing Will, Nyx rolled her eyes. “Really? You again?”

“Uh, since you’re my subconscious, who did you expect?”

She pursed dark blue lips. “Someone better looking? I mean, a girl can dream, can’t she?”

“You are dreaming.”

“Have you ever wondered why your subconscious appears to you as female?”

“I’m in touch with my feminine side. Just give me the data file I prepared on the missing little girl, please.”

“Lisa Carter? Well, at least you bothered me for a good reason. Here.”

He held out his hand. A crystal sphere the size of a baseball appeared with a “pop,” dropping into his palm. Inside the sphere, words, numbers, and images scrolled and tumbled, appearing and disappearing.

“May I go now, oh Great Master?”

“Please. And lose the sarcasm,” he said. Nyx made a rude sound and disappeared.

He offered the data ball to Brian. “Here you go, boy. It’s everything I know about Lisa.”

The Doogle bent his snout up to sniff at the sphere. A long black tongue shot out, wrapping around the ball and sucking it into his mouth.

Brian swallowed the ball. Sparks of light danced in his black eyes. He began a circuit of the House. After sniffing at each door, he returned to the oval one, cocking his round ears forward. His tail sprang straight up, then bent into an arrow shape pointed at that door.

Will walked up to him. “You sure?”

Brian’s tail whipped out, smacking Will on the leg before forming the arrow again.

“Okay, okay. Don’t get grouchy.” He patted Brian’s head. “We have to be sure, pal. Tonight may be our only chance to find her before…” He didn’t finish. Before it was too late. Before Lisa Carter was dead.

He pulled up the hood of his costume. Now anyone meeting him in Dream would see only blackness where his face should be. A blackness no light could penetrate.

He grabbed his skateboard from beside the bed. Across its black surface, constellations spun behind a thin veil of cloud. He touched the door. It swung open, and he stepped into Dream, Brian at his heels.

THEY EMERGED INTO rambling green parkland glowing under a mid-day sun. And a full moon. And a crescent moon, too. Dreamers liked moons, even in daytime scenes. A paved path cut through the park. In the distance, a cityscape of tilted towers loomed. Will turned. Behind him, the white dome of the House of Four Doors vanished with an audible pop.

Brian’s tail curled into a question mark as Will scanned the Dreamscape. “Well, she disappeared from a park, so this is promising.” He touched Brian’s head.

A glowing silver cord appeared, running from Brian’s collar to Will’s wrist. Brian quivered in anticipation, his tail now pointing straight up.

Dropping his board onto the path, Will put one foot on it. “Go!”

Brian sniffed the air, then set off in a determined trot, his silver leash playing out behind him. Will kicked off, following the Doogle. The path wove through the park and the trees, all lit in bright sunlight.

Bright sunlight that in the next eyeblink died to murky twilight. From behind them, faint and far away, came a squeal like fingernails on chalkboard.

Crap. Nightfall and that sound meant only one thing. “Look sharp, Bry. They’re coming.”

Brian’s tail shot straight up, an exclamation point of understanding. Will had given his early Doogles the ability to bark and howl like real dogs. Which they’d loved to do. A lot. And loudly. Hard to track things in Dream when your trackers kept waking up the dreamers.

The squealing came again, much closer this time. Will tugged on the leash, stopping Brian, then stepped off his board to face the coming danger.

“They’ll be on us soon. We won’t make it in time.”

Brian’s tail curled into another question mark.

“You keep going. Find Lisa. Dream led us here, so she must be close.” He touched the leash, and it disappeared.

Snapping his tail straight up, Brian sped off along the trail he’d been following.

The squealing grew louder, and a tingle like electricity prickled Will’s skin. “Nyx!” he called. No response.

Over a distant hill in the park, a dark swirling mass appeared. As it grew closer, the individual creatures comprising the mass became clearer. Each was a black rotating jumble of spikes and points and knife-edges, the size of a basketball. Electricity sparked and leaped over their surfaces.

Dream was built from the dreams of sleepers around the world, dreams that carried the feelings of their dreamers. When those feelings were strong enough, they created a life form existing only in Dream, creatures born from the emotions of dreamers. Emotional djinn. Or, as he called them…

Emojis.

Emojis changed depending on the emotion creating them. The ones bearing down on Will were the most dangerous. Fear emojis.

Gritting his teeth against their noise, he called again. “Nyx!”

Nyx’s face appeared, hovering in a cloud of mist beside him. “Seriously? Again?”

He nodded toward the approaching black mass. She sighed. “Is that all? It’s not as if they’ll kill you. If they touch you, you’ll just wake up.”

“And lose what might be our last chance to find a little girl before she’s killed.”

“Hmm. All right, I forgive you. The usual?”

“Please.” He held out both his hands.

A glowing crystal ball dropped into each of his palms. The ball in his left flattened, expanding into a round crystal shield attached to his arm. In his right hand, the other ball flowed into the hilt of a sword from which a crystal blade grew. Both sword and shield glowed silver in the darkness. Across their surfaces, equations, mathematical theorems, and numerical series flowed in a never-ending cycle.

He dropped into a fighting crouch, shield raised, sword ready to strike.

Just in time. The cloud of emojis swooped down on him like a tornado on a Kansas farmhouse.

And crashed into his shield, exploding in a cacophony of snaps, crackles, and pops. Those that hadn’t struck the shield pulled back. Ten steps away, they clumped into a smaller swirling mass, bobbing and screeching at him.

If they split up and attacked him from all sides, he’d have no chance. But fear emojis were cowards, only attacking in mobs.

The mass of creatures shot forward again. This time, they feinted a strike against the shield, then swirled behind him. But he was ready for that. Pivoting to face them, he spun and swung his sword, cleaving the dark cloud.

With a shriek like rending metal, the survivors scattered, forming into an even smaller clump at a much greater distance. He waited, muscles tensed, shield up. The remaining emojis gave...