Zac and the Dream Stealers

by Ross Mackenzie

  “What’s happening?” he whispered.

  “We’ve got a problem, lad,” she said. “Neither of those men is Rumpous Tinn.”

  Rumpous Tinn, Grandmaster of the Knights of Nod, was somewhere altogether different.

  He could make out lights twinkling overhead, cutting through the fog in his mind. After a while, he felt strong enough to sit up. His entire body ached.

  He was sitting on the stone floor of a small square room. There was a silver door in the corner which was covered in intricate gilding. Torches hung in delicate silver holders, the flickering torchlight reflected in a crystal chandelier. Tinn frowned and pulled his white robe tightly around him. Where was he?

  The last thing he could remember clearly was being attacked in the Eternal Forest. There had been voices all around him, and he had managed to deflect a number of Dream Stealer hexes. But they had been coming at him from all sides.

  He stood and hobbled over to the door. The decoration was quite beautiful with floral patterns and flourishes everywhere. Tinn caught his reflection in the gleaming silver. He looked old and tired. There wasn’t a single hair left on his shining head, but he made up for this with a huge white beard that covered his chin from ear to ear. He sighed. The magic battle had sapped his energy much more quickly than he’d expected. The Dream Stealers were indeed growing stronger.

  An awful thought struck him, and he began to pat his beard. After a second or two of searching, his fingers touched the thing he was feeling for, and he closed his eyes in relief. So the Dream Stealers hadn’t found it. Well, that was something. But then, why hadn’t they just killed him? The reason couldn’t be good. Tinn decided it would be wise to escape.

  He reached for the door handle.

  BANG!

  Tinn spiraled backward through the air, landing hard on the polished stone. He felt as if his bones were on fire. Panting, he pulled himself up onto an ornate iron chair — the only piece of furniture in the room — and examined his hand. His palm was badly burnt. He grimaced. There were no windows, no other doors. He was a prisoner.

  “Well, old man,” he said to himself, “good luck getting out of this one alone.”

  “You ain’t alone,” said a small voice, seemingly from nowhere.

  Tinn leapt up amazingly quickly for a man of his years. His eyes searched the room for any sign of life. There was nothing. Perhaps he’d been hit on the head harder than he’d thought.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” said the voice, “but you ain’t imagining me.”

  “Show yourself!” demanded Tinn.

  Silence.

  “Show yourself, I say!”

  “Why should I?” snapped the voice. “Them Dream Stealers, they’re chomping at the bit to get their hands on me. They call me a ghost. Or a demon.”

  Tinn’s eyes widened. “Which are you?” he asked.

  “I ain’t neither.” But before the voice could elaborate, the sound of footsteps echoed in the corridor. “Sshh. They’re coming back . . .”

  Tinn felt something brush past him. “Wait!” he yelled. “Who are you?”

  There was no answer. The door flew open, and two black-clad figures swept toward him. Silver skull masks covered their faces, and bone-shaped silver armored their forearms and hands, which were crossed over their chests. Dream Stealers: each one a walking skull and crossbones. One raised a hand and brought something heavy down hard across Tinn’s face.

  Dull pain coursed through the old man’s head, and he fell into darkness once more.

  Zac peeked around the armchair at the two men as they stumbled to their feet, clearly disoriented after coming through the Gateway.

  Granny carefully lifted her spare set of gold spectacles from around her neck and began unscrewing one of the arms.

  “What are you doing?” hissed Zac.

  “Getting ready,” said Granny. The arm was now completely separated from the spectacles. She held it in her hand and put the remainder of the glasses into one of her cardigan pockets. “Stay here. Keep out of sight. And if anything should happen to me, you climb up the ladder to the surface of the pond and don’t stop running until you’re safe. Understand?”

  “But —”

  “Do you understand?”

  Zac felt sick. He managed to nod.

  Granny gave him a wink, then leapt out from behind the chair and flicked the arm of her spectacles at the two men like a tiny wand. There was a flash of purple, and a huge glowing net spread across the room, wrapping itself around the intruders, who toppled to the floor in a wriggling package.

  Granny stood over them, her hand raised. “Who are you?” she demanded.

  The astonished face of an old man stared back at her through the net. He had a bushy, ginger-gray mustache, and wore a crushed cowboy hat and a long black coat.

  “Identify yourself!” yelled Granny, brandishing the arm of her glasses again.

  “Evegenia, it’s me! Cornelius!”

  “Cornelius?” said Granny. “Cornelius who?”

  “Huggins!” answered the man, squirming madly. “Cornelius Huggins, remember?”

  Granny lowered her hand slightly. “Where is Rumpous Tinn?” she said.

  “He’s been taken, Eve,” replied the old man. “We were attacked by Dream Stealers in the Eternal Forest. Tinn distracted them long enough for us to escape. We came straight here.”

  “I can’t feel my legs!” whimpered the other person in the net.

  Granny moved closer, staring at the old man’s face. Her eyes suddenly lit up. “Cornelius!” she exclaimed. “It really is you!”

  “I told you!” said the man. “Let me out, before my old bones seize up!”

  Granny flicked the arm of her glasses once more, and the net disappeared.

  The old man in the cowboy hat sprang up and stood before her, his arms wide. “Eve Wonder!” he said. “By the stars, it’s good to see you!”

  “You, too, Cornelius,” said Granny. “Sorry about that. Can’t be too careful. I didn’t recognize you under that mustache. It’s been so long.”

  “Fifty years!” bellowed Cornelius. “Tinn only told us you were alive a few months ago. The shock almost killed me!”

  The second man stood up beside him. He was much younger than Cornelius, and wore a long blue velvet jacket covered with stars, and thick glasses that magnified his eyes hugely. He reminded Zac of an owl.

  “This is Julius,” said Cornelius.

  “How do you do,” said Granny, sticking out a hand. “I’m Evegenia Wonder. My friends call me Eve. And this is Zac. Now, what’s happened? You say the Dream Stealers have Tinn?”

  “They came out of nowhere,” said Julius. “I don’t know how they knew we’d be in the forest, but they surrounded us. If it hadn’t been for Tinn, we’d have been taken, too.”

  “We must get him back,” said Granny. “Without Tinn, we don’t have a chance against a new wave of Dream Stealers.”

  “Agreed,” said Cornelius.

  “Then let’s get going,” said Granny.

  Zac eyed the miniature wand. “Honestly, Granny, when I think of all the times I’ve been in fights at school because someone called you a witch,” he muttered. “I could have saved myself a few beatings if I’d known they were right.” He touched the purple bruise around his eye.

  “Well, you know now,” said Granny with a chuckle. “Anyway, I’m a magician, not a witch. Here, let me fix that. Magic can heal little cuts and bruises quite easily.”

  She flicked her wand and Zac felt a strange sensation, like warm honey, on his face. A moment later, the feeling was gone. Zac picked up a silver paperweight from among the scattered books on the desk. He peered at his warped reflection. The bruise had all but disappeared.

  “Wow, thanks!” he said.

>   “I’m sorry I didn’t fix that sooner, lad,” said Granny, “but I couldn’t very well go mending every little injury you ever had with magic, could I? Someone would’ve noticed.”

  Zac rubbed his cheek, and looked at the crumbling arch. “Are we really going through there?” he said.

  “Yes,” said Granny. “That’s the Gateway between the Waking World and Nocturne. But before we go through, there’s something you must know. Something important.”

  “What is it?”

  “The Gateway is a dream arch. In a way, you’ll be dreaming when we go through it. It’s quite dangerous.”

  Zac raised his eyebrows. “Dangerous?”

  “Yes,” said Granny. “It’ll show you a vision, something that’ll try to tempt you into staying. Don’t fall for it. If you get trapped in the Gateway, you’ll be left floating somewhere between asleep and awake forever.”

  “You really know how to put someone’s mind at rest, don’t you?” said Zac.

  “This is no joke,” she snapped. “You mustn’t stop. Understand?”

  Zac stared into the old woman’s eyes. She looked scared. “I promise,” he said.

  She hugged him so tightly he thought his ribs would pop, and then released him, turning to the Gateway. She took her little wand, tapped the stone three times, and the arch was filled with golden light.

  Julius approached it first, but faltered as he reached the boundary. Cornelius coolly walked up behind him and gave him a shove in the back, and he flapped through the Gateway and out of sight. Then Cornelius turned and waved his hat at Zac before calmly strolling through.

  “Your turn, Zac,” said Granny. “Come on.”

  Zac edged forward. The closer he came to the Gateway, the more electrically charged the air seemed to be. He felt the arch drawing him in, as if it were a powerful magnet and he a shaving of iron.

  By the time he stood next to Granny at the Gateway’s edge it was a physical effort to resist its pull. But the golden light was warm and calming, and as it embraced him he felt safe; he felt happy.

  Granny put her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t fight it,” she said. “Just let go. And remember, lad, keep walking. No matter what you encounter, it won’t be real. I’ll see you on the other side.”

  Zac looked at Granny, wondering whether this would be the last time he’d see her wrinkled face. He turned back to the Gateway, shielding his eyes.

  “You can do it, lad, I know you can!”

  He took a deep breath. And then, with Granny’s words of encouragement still ringing in his ears, he walked bravely forward.

  Immediately, his spirits lifted. He felt pleasure, excitement, and contentment all at once. It was as though he had been wrapped in a cotton-candy cocoon of happiness.

  The warming light surrounded him. It enveloped him. It was a part of him.

  A figure appeared from nowhere, floating serenely toward him.

  As the shape drew nearer, Zac could see it was a woman. Her skin was like the glow of the moon and her hair tumbled around her beautiful face like ribbons of silk.

  Captivated, Zac recognized her, not from memory, but from photographs. The joy that engulfed him now was so intense he thought he would burst.

  “Mum?” he whispered.

  She smiled back at him. She looked like an angel.

  “I’ve been waiting to meet you, Zac,” she said. Her voice was soft and distant.

  He felt an overwhelming urge to hug her and never let go. But then he heard Granny’s voice ringing in his ears: “No matter what you encounter, it won’t be real.”

  “Come with me, Zac,” murmured the vision.

  Zac stood for a moment, mesmerized. He was so close. He wanted more than anything to take her hand and go with her. But he also knew it was a trick, a cruel deception to tempt him to stay.

  He opened his mouth to say something, but there was a lump in his throat. A burning feeling spread from his chest to his eyes, and hot tears trickled down his cheeks. With a deep breath he wiped his face and managed to utter the most difficult words he’d ever had to say.

  “I have to go.”

  “You can’t go, darling,” said his mother.

  Zac spoke again, this time more forcefully. “I can’t stay,” he said. He thought of Granny, and, as he pictured her face, the vision released some of its hold on him. “This isn’t real. You’re not real. I wish you were, but you’re not.”

  Fighting every instinct, he walked past the image of his mother, then looked over his shoulder. She was watching him with a confused expression.

  “Come back,” she said.

  Zac closed his eyes and thought of Granny again. She needed him. Thinking of her gave him strength. He turned away.

  As he did, there was a horrible ripping noise. Zac looked back once more and felt a lurch of horror. The vision of his mum was changing. She was shrinking, becoming hunched and twisted. Her skin was rot-ting before his eyes, falling off the bone. Zac turned and ran, almost tripping over his own feet. The monster followed. She was fast. Gasping for air, Zac pushed himself on, but he was running too quickly. He slipped, tumbling to the floor. The terrible, zombielike ghoul stooped over him, shedding chunks of flesh. Her flaking face grew closer and closer, until it pressed against his skin. He screamed.

  “Zac?”

  “Is he all right, Eve?”

  “I don’t know. Zac? Zac! Open your eyes, lad, come on!”

  “Mum?”

  “Look! He’s waking up!”

  “He is! He is! He’s waking up!”

  Zac’s vision was fuzzy. He felt as though he’d been dropped on his head. Peering down anxiously at him were the blurred faces of Granny, Cornelius, and Julius.

  He sat up, and Granny gave him another rib-crunching hug.

  “Good lad!” she said, tears filling her pearly gray eyes once more. “I knew you could do it. I’m so proud of you!”

  “It was Mum,” said Zac, and the rotting face flashed in his mind. “When I tried to get past, she turned into . . . some kind of zombie.”

  Granny exchanged a grave look with Cornelius. “This is bad,” she said. “Like anything magical, the Gateway draws its protective power from the Dream Plains. I expected it to try to trick you with what you dream of most, but not to twist it into something so truly terrible. Things must be far worse than we thought. The Dream Plains are being taken over Zac, I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I’d never have put you in such a position if I’d known. Are you all right?”

  “I think so,” he said. “It seemed so real for a minute, and then . . .” He shook the vision from his mind. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve made it.”

  Granny helped him up.

  “Zac, are you sure you’re OK?” said Julius. It was the first time he’d spoken to him.

  “I’m fine. Thanks. Aargh! What’s that?”

  Zac leapt back from Julius, who seemed to be holding a small ball of fire in his hand. Amused, Granny and Cornelius looked on as though it was the most normal thing in the world.

  Julius gazed blankly at Zac for a moment, then he looked down at the fireball and grinned. “Not to worry, Zac,” he said. “It’s only a bit of magic to help us see in the dark — it doesn’t hurt.”

  “Oh, right,” Zac muttered.

  Cornelius coughed quietly to indicate they should all pay attention. “Now that everyone is safe and well, I think we should get back to business.”

  “Of course,” Granny replied. “Lead the way.”

  His eyes twinkling, the old man tipped his hat, stepped to one side, and opened his arms dramatically.

  Now Zac realized they were in a huge cavern. Ahead, the floor fell away into a deep canyon. It was as if they were in the belly of the world.

  “Is that where we’re
going?” he gulped, pointing toward the other side of the chasm.

  “Yes, lad,” Granny said.

  “But how do we get across?” He was half dreading the answer.

  Cornelius let out a bellow of a laugh and looked up. “Why, we follow the moonlight, of course!” he yelled, his voice echoing in the vast space.

  As the echoes died away, Julius extinguished the fireball with a casual wave of his hand. Immediately, blackness swallowed them. Zac staggered back a few paces. Then he saw it.

  High above them was a crack in the immense arching roof of the cavern, and through it Zac could see the moon, bright in the night sky. A beam of crystal moonlight cut like a blade through the darkness, drawing a straight line from where they were standing, on the edge of the canyon, to the opposite side.

  “The moonlight marks the path,” said Granny. “As long as we follow the beam we’ll be safe. Just don’t look down.”

  Cornelius grinned widely. “Shall we?” he said, clapping his hands. “This is my favorite part!”

  Then he stepped off the edge of the canyon.

  Zac was about to shout out in horror when he realized that Cornelius had not fallen. He was, in fact, standing on what looked to be thin air.

  “I don’t . . . I can’t . . . how?” Zac spluttered in disbelief.

  “Don’t think about it too much,” said Julius. “It’s best just to get on with it.”

  “It’s all right,” said Granny. “I’ll go first. Stay close. Follow in my footsteps exactly.”

  Zac nodded stiffly.

  “Good lad,” said Granny, and she stepped from the ledge into nothingness.

  Zac crept forward. The abyss yawned before him like the mouth of some massive, hungry creature. Granny beckoned to him.

  “I — I don’t know if I can,” he said.

  “Of course you can,” said Granny. “You made it through the Gateway. You just have to believe in yourself.”

  And so, taking a deep breath and wondering whether it might be his last, Zac stepped from the edge.