Elder Sui struck a small chime three times. The clear, tinkling notes resonated in the hall. "Focus on the sound," Elder Lin instructed. "Let it guide you inward."
The disciples closed their eyes in unison, each adopting a meditation pose. Long also shut his eyes partly, taking slow breaths but keeping his awareness on the room. The cub pressed against his side, unusually quiet.
Soft chanting began. It was unlike any cultivation chant Long had heard—half lullaby, half mantra. The disciples intoned: "Mind like water, spirit like air... dreams carry us, dreams lay us bare..." Their voices intertwined, rising and falling rhythmically, inducing a hypnotic atmosphere.
As they chanted, the incense smoke swirled in strange patterns. Long felt a subtle pulse of spiritual energy wash through the hall. The hairs on his arms prickled. It was as if a veil were descending over the room, dimming the boundary between waking and dream. The flames of the oil lamps flickered, then stretched, casting dancing shadows that didn't quite match the forms that cast them.
From his seat, Long saw the expressions of the meditating disciples grow slack, their breathing slow and deep. Many had slight smiles or looks of wonder—already dreaming, perhaps. Elder Lin herself sat down on the dais, crossing her legs, her eyes closed as she too joined the meditation. Only Elder Sui remained half-awake, his job likely to stay alert in case of disturbance. The old man nodded periodically, fighting sleep like a soldier resisting an inexorable tide.
For a time, all was quiet and eerily calm. The only sounds were the soft chants and the faint crackling of incense sticks. Long felt a tug at the edges of his consciousness, as though something were drawing him to sleep as well. Instead, he focused on the cool sensation of the cub's fur under his hand and kept his breathing purposeful to remain awake. He needed to be an anchor in case things went awry.
It didn't take long. Across the hall, one disciple suddenly twitched. A young woman—her face contorted as if in pain. A few others near her shifted uncomfortably, but did not wake. Long narrowed his eyes, attentive. The young woman's fingers clawed at her own robes, a sheen of sweat forming on her brow. Yet her eyes remained shut; she was locked in whatever dream had seized her.
Elder Sui hadn't noticed yet; his chin had sunk to his chest as he sat on his heels by the dais, faint snores escaping his nose.
Long rose quietly to his knees, ready to move. Zhou Wei, sitting a few cushions away, was deep in trance but looked peaceful. Long hated to break the silence, but the girl was clearly in distress—small whimpers escaping her lips.
Then it grew worse. The girl's whimpers turned to a strangled cry. Her body stiffened and she began to gasp, choking on air as if drowning in thin atmosphere. Still, she didn't wake. None of the other meditating disciples stirred; they were too far gone. The collective dream held them all in its thrall.
Long acted. He moved swiftly from his cushion to the girl's side, the cub bounding behind him. Gently but firmly, he grasped the girl's shoulder. Her skin was icy cold and she was trembling.
"Wake up," he whispered, infusing a thread of his own qi into his voice—an invigorating aura meant to rouse consciousness. "This is not real. Come back."
She didn't respond, continuing to shake. Long tried again, this time pressing two fingers to her forehead. He closed his eyes briefly and sent a probe of his spiritual sense inward, a risky attempt to touch the surface of her mind.
For a split second, he felt it—an overwhelming tide of despair and fear, images that were not his own: dark water, a sense of sinking, an echoing voice calling her name. He glimpsed a figure standing on the surface of a black lake, beckoning with open arms. A welcoming smile that was all wrong, too wide, too empty.
Clarity, a voice whispered in that psychic connection, in a tone both gentle and terrifying. Be one with us.
Long recoiled, breaking the link. Cold sweat dotted his back. He recognized that whatever he touched was not just the girl's nightmare; something else was there, whispering in her dream.
The interruption, however, had an effect. The girl suddenly sucked in a great breath and her eyes flew open. She stared up at Long in confusion and residual terror.
"Easy," Long said softly. "You're alright now."
She blinked rapidly, coming to her senses, and then began to sob quietly as the shock settled. Long helped her sit up. Some of the noise had finally disturbed Elder Sui; the old man jerked awake with a loud snort and looked around blearily.
At the same time, other disciples began to stir. The meditation was breaking, ripples of wakefulness spreading from the girl's cry and the disruption in the energy flow. One by one they opened their eyes, looking dazed or confused. A couple looked frustrated as if being denied a great revelation.
Elder Lin was one of the last to awaken—her eyes fluttered open and she immediately surveyed the scene with a sharp gaze. Upon seeing Long crouched by the crying girl, understanding dawned in her features. She swiftly rose and moved through the groggy crowd.
"Jianyu," Elder Lin said gently to the girl, kneeling opposite Long. "What happened?"
The disciple, Jianyu, wiped her eyes, cheeks red with embarrassment now. "I... I don't know, Elder. I was dreaming of my childhood home by the river, and then... then the water rose and I was drowning..." She shuddered. "Something in the water was pulling me down. I heard..." Her eyes drifted to Long and then back to Elder Lin. "I heard a voice saying my name. It sounded like my own mother, but she died years ago."
Elder Lin pressed Jianyu's hand comfortingly. "You are safe. You did well. Sometimes our fears take hold. Go and rest now." She signaled for another disciple to help Jianyu up and escort her out for some fresh air.