Free Awoken by Timothy Miller

waystone out of Lina’s hand, like yesterday.”
    The dollman cocked his head. “The Awoken needs the waystone to control the stonesong. The thief must release the waystone to him. The Ven are near.”
    Lina clenched her fists. “Well, that’s just brilliant. If I could take this thing out, I would have done it already. Or does this runt think I normally break into boys’ bedrooms at night?”
    Michael rolled his eyes at her. “Will you be quiet and let me handle this?”
    “He’s not making any sense, Mike. I need to find out how to get this rock out of my hand.”
    “I know, but you’re not helping.”
    “The thief must release the waystone, Awoken,” the dollman said. “The Ven are near. The People—”
    “Must flee,” Michael finished. “I feel you, bro. Now, how do we get the waystone out of Lina’s hand? Aside from me letting you kill her, I mean.”
    The dollman’s forehead wrinkled as he appeared to consider the question. “The Awoken wishes to retrieve the waystone without harm to the thief?”
    “Exactly. How do we get the waystone out without hurting her?”
    “The thief is bloodbound to the earth and bone, Awoken,” the dollman said. “Only the elders of the People can unbind the stone from the thief’s flesh. If you would not harm the thief, we must go to them, in the city of the People.”
    “I can’t go to some secret city,” Lina said. “For God’s sake, I’m supposed to be going to dance camp. Do you have any idea what kind of trouble I’m going to get in if I ditch that? No. I need this thing out of my hand tonight. There has to be something I can do.”
    “She’s right,” Michael said. “I need to get out of here, but that doesn’t mean I want to go looking for a dollman city. Isn’t there another way?”
    The dollman gave a glassy smile. “We can kill the thief and take back the waystone. Shall this one kill the thief, Awoken?”
    “Let’s go, you bald monkey,” Lina lunged for the little man.
    The dollman sprang from the bedpost to the dresser, knocking over a lamp as he landed. The lamp struck the floor and shattered, sending bits of glass and porcelain in all directions.
    Running footsteps sounded in the hall outside his room. “Michael?” Barbara’s muffled call was alarmed. “Michael, are you all right?”
    Everyone froze.
    Michael broke from the paralysis first. “I’m okay,” he called back, but the footsteps grew louder. “Hide,” he hissed. “I’ll try to stall her.”
    Michael sprang for the door as it swung open.
    “What’s going on in here?” asked Barbara. She glanced over Michael’s shoulder and her hands leapt to her mouth. “Good heavens!”
    Michael winced. This day just got better and better. “Please don’t freak out, Mrs. Wiffle. I can explain.”
    Barbara’s hands dropped from her mouth to her ample hips. “I should hope so. What have you done to your room?”
    “My…my room?” Michael turned. His bedroom was empty. Lina and the dollman had disappeared.
    Barbara stomped past him toward his dresser. Standing over the rumpled sheets and broken lamp, she tapped her foot expectantly. “Just look at this mess. What in the world were you doing in here?” She frowned. “And why are you wearing your backpack?”
    “I was…I was…” He fumbled for a believable excuse, but his mind was a blank until he spotted his Morbius comics next to the nightstand. “I was setting up a tent.”
    “A tent?” Barbara pushed at the sheets with her toe. “You were trying to build a tent with your sheets?”
    “Sure. It’s like camping, only indoors. I used to do this all the time at my old foster home.” A stream of crumbled plaster fell onto his cheek. Brushing it away, he glanced up.
    Side by side, Lina and the dollman clung from the ceiling above him like human spiders.
    “No freaking way!”
    Barbara looked up from the messy floor. “What?”
    Michael jerked his gaze from the ceiling. “I mean, uh…no freaking way should I