It is said that books are vessels for dreams, for in books dreams are kept, and shared, and found. And so, considering the bond between books and dreams, I suppose it was only to be expected that I, being a book, would find dreams in sleep.

  I couldn’t tell whether I was a book, but it didn’t matter. Before me was a great castle, a mass of towers rising in the sky, its windows glowing in black night. It sat above a precipice, watching the land, and I knew it would find me. Dark clouds pressed down on the wind, and behind me trees stirred, their branches cracking. The castle was growing, nearing, looming over me, looking for me with its countless window eyes. I realized it was pulling me in, drawing me closer, just as I had drawn in that girl. The forest groaned and swayed and whacked at me, scrabbling at me with their fingers, and spoke, I can’t see! White eyes opened in all the trees’ knotholes, in the gaps between the branches, in the gnarls of the roots, and all looked at me, and spoke together, Oh no, I can’t see. I can’t see, I can’t see! Oh no, oh no!

  I feel some pride in the way I acted next, for my mind came awake with memory, and at once my thoughts turned to the girl, and I knew I’d been hearing her mind in my dream. I’m here, I said, I’ll help you, and we’ll fix this. You will see again.

  I was concerned she would not trust me, for it was I who had blinded her, but I patiently awaited her answer. I had grown familiar with her mind, and knew her to be intelligent and careful in thought. She would answer only after deliberation, and so I waited.

  My senses came awake once again, less intensely than before. I was still in the same room, round and of stone, furnished only by the lectern at its center, but I had somehow fallen onto the floor. There hung from the lectern a series of leather straps and fine chains, and I marveled that she had unbound me from them so quickly. Only faint moonlight came through the open passage, barely covering the girl’s shape, huddled in the shadows.

  At last, she spoke, and her voice quavered, then cracked with spite, “You blinded me... You brought me to you, and made me untie you, and took my sight! What are you? Why did you do this?”

  I winced in shame, and measured my words carefully. “You’re right. It is my fault. I don’t know who or what I am. I needed you to free me. Please, believe me, I never intended to hurt you.”

  As I spoke, and heard my voice, I grew uncomfortably self-conscious about its sound. It had warmth, but was crisp like the moving of paper, for it was made by the rustling of my pages.

  “Before you found me, I’d never been open before. For so long, I was alone. Then, I felt your mind. You must’ve felt mine too, all those times you nearly found me. Have I ever had any ill-will for you?”

  Her breathing slowed as she considered my answer, and the moonlight shimmered white on her eyes. And though her posture opened up towards me, her tone held suspicion, “How can I trust you?”

  “For any lie I ever say to you,” I said, solemnly, “you may rip out any of my pages.”

  I was struck by the weight of what I’d just said, but wouldn’t have taken it back. I had no reason to lie to her, and no better cause in my life than to help her regain her sight. And so I added, with sincerity, “I’m indebted to you for freeing me, and place myself in your service, until you regain your sight, or until any time of your choosing.”

  She straightened up at my words, and wiped the tears from her cheeks with her sleeves, “Ok, I accept your offer. But first, tell me, why were you locked up in here? Why did Master hide you away?” In her tone was a sharp challenge, testing whether I’d lie to her.

  “I don’t know,” I answered, “I was barely aware of anything but my own thoughts until you opened me. I didn’t even know I was a book until I heard it in your thoughts. But, I did hear his thoughts, your Master, at the very beginning. He was surprised by me, and believed there was more to me than it seemed.”

  “You heard his thoughts?” asked the girl, taken aback, “I almost never heard him speak… What was he like?”

  I smiled to myself, for her curiosity had started to return. Already she was regaining herself, and I was impressed by her resilience. I thought back to her Master’s presence, “I suppose, more than anything, that he was studious. I felt him inspecting me, looking for understanding.”

  “Oh, he likes to study things alright,” she said, darkly, “listen book, we’ve gotta get out of here. When he finds out I opened this secret room, and found you… Well, I have no idea what he’s gonna do, and I’d rather not know. The last person that stole something from him didn’t get to talk about the consequences, and I’d rather not find out for myself.”

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  As she spoke, that memory flashed by, being carried by someone scared, trying to get away, until fear and pain washed over them.

  “But, you didn’t steal from him, and he’s your Master, isn’t he? He wouldn't do anything bad to you, would he?”

  The girl cocked her eyebrow and tilted her head, “I guess you really are pretty clueless, aren’t you. Didn’t you say you’d felt his mind? Let me ask, did you feel any empathy in there, any compassion?”

  I thought back to my impressions, and had to admit that, compared to this girl, and even to that other person I now knew had been a thief, the Master had been scant of emotion.

  “Now listen,” she said, “we have to get out of this place, but I haven’t been outside in years. I don’t even know what the world is like out there. Fortunately, I know the castle’s inside pretty well, but not enough to get around without my eyes. Can you do anything to help?”

  At her mention of our being in a castle, I vividly remembered the castle in my dream, and briefly wondered if it was the same. If so, its insides had to be like a maze.

  “Pick me up,” I said.

  She crawled forward, feeling the ground until she found me. Her touch awakened the feeling of my covers, and I knew they were made of a soft, woven material, but not what color, or if there was any writing. I ached to ask her, but held back. I would have to wait, now was not the time.

  As she lifted me I could tell by the confidence of her touch that she was used to handling books. For a moment I reveled in being held, but shook myself and took bearing. I was now off the floor, and could see through the door. There was a hallway, dark and full of shadowy shapes, and a window, through which a gibbous moon was rising.

  “Well, I suppose we have to go out there,” I said, “it’s so dark. Is it always like this at night?”

  “Can you actually see? But how?” she asked, amazed, and fiddled with my cover, feeling for my eyes.

  “I can, and I think it’s with my pages.”

  “Really? Well then here, how about this-” and she turned me in her hand so that the edges of my pages faced forward. Immediately I could see more clearly, for more light met my paper.

  “Yes, I can see much better like this. Down the hall, there’s another door, and another…”

  I could tell she was thinking, then slowly she spoke, “What if - What if I opened you up? Would you be able to see even better?”

  In silence, we both thought back to the last time I’d been fully opened. I hadn’t been opened since, and there was no way to tell if a similar effect would happen again.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea…” I said.

  “Yes,” she agreed, “probably best we don’t try that. Not yet, at least. Now, we have to get going. I’ll tell you what to look for once we get out of this room. Tell me where to go.”

  I readied myself. I now had a clear task in life, a clear objective. I was this girl’s guide, through thick or thin. Joy surged in me, for I would finally have a say in my life’s direction, and I spoke my first command.

  “Forward,” I said, and forward she went, and caught her elbow on the corner of the lectern and whimpered in pain, shaking and rubbing her arm to get rid of the pins and needles. “Oh, right, sorry. Watch out for the lectern, and just a bit more to the left, ok there’s the door and watch your head, and ok, we’re in the hallway, now where?”

  We both stood uncertainly, trying to come to terms with our situation. Somehow, my attention was caught by a statue beside the opening to my prison. It was a tall woman, her hair and robes long and flowing, her right hand reaching upwards, and in her left, a book, strangely askew. That must have been it, the key to the door.

  As though her thoughts were the same as mine, the girl groped for the statue and found the book, then tilted it back in place. With only a faint grinding of stone, a door slid back in place and shut with a breath of stale air.

  Though I was free from that place, I felt bad for the lectern, and for those straps and chains, all still prisoners of that room. Even the air was trapped in there, and I suddenly felt very resentful towards closed doors.

  But I couldn't stay mad at this door for long, for it was a bookcase, and so it was the first time I saw others of my kind. And even though I didn't know what to look for in books, I knew something was odd, for there was not a trace of writing on any of them.

  “So many times, I came to this place,” said the girl, steadying herself on one of the shelves, “and never even thought to try that statue. I pulled out all these books, you know, to see if it would do anything. They're all empty. Not one word on any of their pages. I checked. I should've taken it as a warning. Now I'm the one who's blank,” she finished, laying her fingers over her eyes.

  “We'll find your sight,” I said, reassuringly, but the certitude in my voice rang fragile, for I had no idea what our quest would entail.

  “Sure,” she said, unconvinced, “but for now, let's get out of here.”

  Three halls branched away from us, each filled with the shadows of doors and sharp cornered furnishings. I tensed up and felt her do the same. This was going to be much more difficult than I’d thought.