Free The Changeling (Book One of The Síofra Chronicles) by K.R. Wilburn

arms, feeling safe from my own fears.  I was so good at avoiding things that upset me, and I wanted to do just that—bury my face in his chest and pretend that I wasn't as scared as I was—but that wasn't why I was here.  That wasn't why he was showing these things to me. I couldn’t always hide myself away from things that scared me.
    "No. No worries," I said as I untangled myself from his arms.  "It's not you.  It caught me off guard.”  I rolled back to my place on the stone, wiping my eyes surreptitiously and willing myself to stop being such a needy coward.  
    "Fae are empathetic creatures, Cassie," he said soothingly. "It is only natural that you feel sorrow for such a loss.  It’s why we were entrusted with the duty of watching over the souls in the first place."
    I flicked my gaze back up to meet his, oddly comforted by the sympathy I found there.  I felt some of the pressure in my chest slacken and nodded, feeling less alone in my sorrow. 
    "Isn't there anything we can do for them?" I asked.  The thought of helplessly standing by while others were slowly suffocating themselves in their fears was repulsive. 
    "Yes there is," he explained, appearing pleased with my desire to help.  "When we see nightmares like this occurring, we can intervene.  We can shock the mortals back into their bodies or use the Dreaming to alter their nightmares so that we can nudge their souls back to their bodies." 
    He gestured toward the Pool, and I watched as it flashed and the color shifted, bringing with it a new dream and a new dreamer.
    "Can you show me?"  I wanted to help the dreamers, wanted to spare them their darkest moments. I didn’t want anyone to feel the paralyzing fear that had been my dreams lately.
    "Better than that, Cassie," he responded, his lips turning up into a smile. "Nightmares aren’t as common as you would think, and it can be dangerous even for a seasoned Fae, let alone a Síofra. I will teach you how to nudge the souls in pleasant dreams first."
    He reached down toward the Pool, slowly putting his hand up to his forearm into the still water. The water did not ripple or shift at all where his hand disturbed it. It accepted it, swallowing his arm.
    Aleksander focused his eyes on the still liquid, and I could see a small ball of light forming in his hand under the surface.  He closed his eyes and his face contorted with concentration.  As he did, the ball of light in his hand grew brighter and larger. He grunted with the effort, and the light flared brightly, filling the entire Pool in a flash. 
    The ball of light faded and nothing was left of the dream's image. He slowly withdrew his hand, his arm still dry. 
    "What happened?" I asked excitedly.  "What was that light?"  I had seen that it before, luminous and bright and shocking.  I struggled to recall where I remembered it from, but the image danced at the edges of my memory, teasing me.
    "That light," he smiled as he rolled onto his side and looked at me, “was a manifestation of love.  When you learn to control your power, you can draw on it to create.  When the light grows too bright, it surrounds the dreamer and startles them, pushing their soul back toward their body.  It can be draining, but it’s worth it to keep the souls safe from themselves."
    I watched the water shift and show me a girl who looked near my age. Her dark hair reminded me of Becca.  In the image, she was dancing in a dance studio, her willowy frame turning and spinning in front of a wall of mirrors in a room full of sunlight. It was beautiful to watch.
    "Show me how?" I asked, mesmerized with the dancing girl. 
    Aleksander rolled back and leaned into my side again, whispering instructions, his breath warm and pleasant as it tickled my face. "Put your hand into the water.  It will resist. Ignore it and push through.  The resistance is the barrier between Otherworld and the Dreaming. You must have your hand firmly in the Dreaming for it to work."
    I