Elric in the Dream Realms - Michael Moorcock [47]
“I think so. There are philosophers of my own people who claim that much of our magic is actually the imposition of a powerful will upon the fundamental stuff of reality, an ability, if you like, to make dreams come true. Some claim our whole world was created thus.”
Oone seemed pleased. “Good. I knew there were certain ideas I would not have to explain.”
“But what would you have me do, lady?”
“I want you to help me. Together we can find a way to what the Sorcerer Adventurers call the Fortress of the Pearl and by so doing one or both of us might steal the dream which binds the child to perpetual sleep and free her to wakefulness, return her to her people to be their seeress and their pride.”
“The two are linked then?” Elric began to rise to his feet, ignoring the call of his ever-present craving. “The child and the Pearl?”
“I think so.”
“What is the link?”
“In discovering that we shall doubtless discover how to free her.”
“Forgive me, Lady Oone,” said Elric gently, “but you sound almost as ignorant as I!”
“In some ways it is true that I am. Before I go further, I must ask you to swear to abide by the Dreamthief’s Code.”
“I swear,” said Elric, and he held up the hand on which his Actorios glowed to show that he swore by one of his people’s most revered artifacts. “I swear by the Ring of Kings.”
“Then I will tell you what I know and what I desire of you,” said Oone. She linked her free hand in his arm and led him further into the groves of palms and cypress. Sensing the shuddering hunger in him which yearned for Lord Gho’s terrible drug, she seemed to show some sympathy.
“A dreamthief,” she began, “does exactly what the title implies. We steal dreams. Originally our guild were true thieves. We learned the trick of entering the worlds of other people’s dreams and stealing those which were most magnificent or exotic. Gradually, however, people began to call upon us to steal unwanted dreams—or rather the dreams which entrapped or plagued friends or relatives. So we stole those. Frequently the dreams themselves were in no way harmful to another, only to the one who was in their power …”
Elric interrupted. “Are you saying that a dream has some material reality? That it can be seized, like a volume of verse, say, or a money purse, and slipped free of its owner?”
“Essentially, yes. Or, I should say, our guild learned the trick of making a dream sufficiently real for it to be handled thus!” She now laughed openly at his confusion and some of the care went away from her for a moment. “There is a certain talent needed and a great deal of training.”
“But what do you do with these stolen dreams?”
“Why, Prince Elric, we sell them at the Dream Market, twice a year. There’s a fine trade in almost any sort of dream, no matter how bizarre or terrifying. There are merchants who purchase them and customers who would buy them. We distill them, of course, into a form which can be transported and later translated. And because we make the dreams take substance, we are threatened by them. That substance can destroy us. You see what happened to Alnac. It takes a certain character, a certain cast of mind, a certain attitude of spirit, all combining, to protect oneself in the Dream Realms. But because we have codified these realms we have also to a degree made them our own to manipulate.”
“You must explain