Itzel and Dr. Xipil nod and step out of the room.
Virgil doesn’t.
“Go,” Valerian orders, jabbing his thumb at the door.
Virgil exits with visible reluctance.
“Don’t bother eavesdropping,” Valerian says as the vampire begins to close the door behind himself. “I’m going to be using my powers to shield us.”
“Fine,” Virgil says over his shoulder. “If Maxwell or Bailey attack you, don’t come crying to me after.”
Before Valerian can answer, the vampire is gone.
Valerian looks at Maxwell. “This is about going to Soma, isn’t it?”
Maxwell nods solemnly.
“I’ve been thinking along the same lines,” Valerian says. “But it’s impossible to get there.”
My heart sinks. “Why?”
“The trip from here to Soma goes through extremely dangerous Otherlands,” Valerian says.
“Mom and I must’ve made the journey once,” I say. “And you did too.”
“That was before all the Otherlands started teeming with the Overtaken,” he says. “If we were to try to go to Soma now, our trip from Necronia would seem like a leisurely stroll in comparison.”
The sinking sensation intensifies. “What if we brought an army of vampires with us?”
Valerian shakes his head. “Still too dangerous. Also, we’re trying to keep the location of Soma a secret.”
Maxwell nods. “Soma’s very existence must stay a secret.”
I look at him. “How can a world’s existence ever be a secret? Isn’t there a hub that some Cognizant could accidentally stumble onto?”
“Soma is special,” Maxwell says. “There’s only a single gate leading to and from it. The entry gate for Soma is hidden on a nondescript world, far from the regular hub.”
“So that’s it?” I don’t bother hiding the disappointment in my voice. “I don’t get to meet my twin?”
“I’m sorry,” Valerian says, and looks it.
“There is a way,” Maxwell says. “Otherwise, why would I suggest we go to Soma?”
I belatedly recall a memory of his. “Of course. You want to use that woman who sprung you from Soma.”
“She owes me one last favor,” Maxwell says. “And I’m glad I didn’t use up that favor when I was sick with the virus. I suspected I might have to return to Soma one day.”
Wow. Talk about self-discipline. When I had that virus, I would’ve called in every favor and spent every penny to get closer to the cure.
“What are you two talking about?” Valerian asks.
“A teleporter,” Maxwell says. “A world jumper at that.”
I wanted to ask him about that when I first saw the memory, but things moved too fast, so I didn’t get a chance. Teleporters are among the rarest Cognizant types, and the most powerful of them—a tiny minority of an already small group—are world jumpers. It is said that world jumpers can create personal gates to Otherlands.
Personally, I’ve never met any of them. If it weren’t for the hubs, I would doubt that world jumpers exist. Legends say the gates in the hubs were created by a mix of gnome technology and a group of ultra-powerful world jumpers, sometimes called the gate makers.
“I thought world jumpers were a myth,” Valerian says, echoing my thoughts.
“They’re real,” Maxwell says. “They prefer to live on worlds that don’t have hubs—because they can. So, naturally, they’re hard for the rest of us to come across. The jumper who owes me needed a dreamwalker, so she found me, not the other way around.”
Valerian frowns. “But if she’s on another world, and without a hub, how are we going to recruit her?”
“Dreamwalking isn’t constrained by Otherland boundaries,” Maxwell says. “If it were, Phobetor wouldn’t be as big a problem as he is.”
“Call him Collywobbles,” Valerian says, almost on autopilot. “Do you think your world jumper is sleeping right now?”
“There’s only one way to find out.” Maxwell looks at me. “Can you put me in REM sleep?”
“You don’t need me to put you to sleep to get to the dream world.” I wave my wristband as its fur turns brown. “You can use Pom instead.”
“What’s a pom?” Maxwell asks, then looks at my pet, eyes widening. “Oh, wow. That’s a creature, and it’s in REM sleep.”
“He is,” I say, and explain that Pom is a looft, a symbiotic creature that lives on moofts.
Maxwell takes a half step back. “How did you get him in the first place? Dream world access is nice, but to willingly let a parasite leech your—”
“He’s a symbiont.” The defensiveness in my voice is ironic, given how much I’ve teased Pom about this very thing.
“I was wondering about this too.” Valerian looks at Pom. “How did the two of you end up together?”
Smiling, I pet Pom’s fur. “A patient of mine was badgering me to go to the South Gomorran Petting Zoo. She said it was the most soothing experience she’s ever encountered, and that I could use it as dream therapy. I eventually gave in.” I look at Valerian to make sure he appreciates what a great sacrifice that was for someone as wary of germs as I am. “According to my extensive research, moofts were the only creatures at that zoo that were never featured in an article about cross-species transmission of disease. So at the urging of my patient, I reached out to touch one. My hand landed on the most colorful and furry section of the creature—which turned out to have been a budding looft. The looft got attached to my wrist. Naturally, I freaked out at first. But then I learned about loofts and that they spend the majority of their lives in REM sleep, so I realized the potential. Long story short, I met Pom in the dream world, fell in love with his cuteness, and now he’s my best friend.”