Zac and the Dream Stealers

by Ross Mackenzie

  In Daydreamer’s Alley, Zac had to leap out of the way of a horse-drawn cart piled high with candy canes. A crowd of young children was giving chase. A woman brushed past him, dressed in thick fur and dragging a shining toaster on a red leash. It yapped and barked like a puppy as they passed. Granny was right: Some people really did have strange imaginations. He stared after the toaster until it was out of sight.

  “Where’re we going, Mum?” asked Tom.

  “First stop is Fontooly’s,” answered Mrs. Huggins vaguely, scanning the window of a shop selling nothing but poisonous pets.

  “Clothes shopping?” wailed Tom. “I hate clothes shopping!”

  “You’re the one who wanted to come along, Thomas,” murmured Mrs. Huggins. “We have to get some clothes for Zac. Oh, that reminds me — here you go, dear.”

  She handed Zac a small cloth bag.

  He peeked inside, finding — much to his revulsion — that it contained a pile of teeth. For a moment he felt a little weak, but then he remembered that teeth were money. Closing the bag carefully, he managed a half smile.

  “Thanks,” he said, although he wasn’t quite sure if he meant it.

  They walked on through a maze of twisting, snow-covered streets. There were stalls everywhere. One sold chocolate-flavored brussels sprouts. What a good idea, thought Zac, before his attention was grabbed by a grand building with a dazzling door sign that sparkled and fizzed: PONTIUS PULLERWICK’S PYROTECHNIC SUPERSTORE. The pavement outside was crowded with both children and adults watching miniature fireworks spit, whizz, and crack inside the shop window.

  As Mrs. Huggins and Tilly chatted about clothes, Zac and Tom dropped behind.

  “Tom,” Zac said, “I’ve been wondering about something. How many Knights are there?”

  Tom kicked at the pavement. “Not many now,” he said. “Just us.”

  “How come?”

  “It used to be different,” said Tom. “Years ago, there were more. But when the last war with the Dream Stealers ended, Grandad says that people in Nocturne thought the threat was over.” He rubbed his brow. “Stupid,” he spat. “Nobody was interested in practicing good magic or becoming a Knight anymore. Nowadays most people only use spells to help with silly things like washing the dishes! They just let the Order fade away and didn’t bother to think about what would happen if the Dream Stealers came back.”

  “So nobody here knows the Knights still exist?”

  “A few people do,” said Tom. “But most of them think we’re a joke.”

  “And the Dream Stealers?” asked Zac. “Do people think that they’re a joke?”

  “Nobody wants to believe the Dream Stealers are back,” said Tom. “But they’re getting stronger. People can’t pretend for much longer.”

  “Aren’t you scared?”

  Tom bowed his head. “A little,” he said, then he raised his head and smiled hopefully. “But your granny’s come back. That’s the best thing that could have happened. She’s given Grandad a boost because he knows Rumpous Tinn called her back for a purpose.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about most,” said Zac. “Now that the Dream Stealers have Tinn, what happens if they come looking for her?”

  “Then we’ll protect her,” said Tom forcefully. “And anyway, from what Grandad has told me, your granny is one of the best magicians there is. She can look after herself.”

  “I suppose,” said Zac.

  “Almost there!” chirped Mrs. Huggins.

  They were crossing a tall stone bridge. Below them, an enormous moat reflected the moody sky above. Looking up, Zac got his first proper view of Slumber Mountain, and saw that a tunnel had been blasted through its heart. What on earth is that for? he thought.

  In answer a great rumble suddenly drowned out the hum of the street. Zac ducked, afraid the whole mountain was about to collapse.

  “It’s all right,” said Tom with a chuckle. “It’s just the Express.”

  He motioned upward, and Zac’s eyes followed. A large, black steam train was swooping through the extra-ordinary tunnel, spewing out great clouds of purple steam. Behind it, a long row of carriages snaked through the air.

  “Of course,” said Zac. “A flying train. What else?”

  A few minutes later, Zac was standing in front of a tall mirror in a very splendid shop. It was built on four golden levels around a waterfall and staffed by elves, who turned out to be the most dedicated and helpful shop assistants imaginable. The miniature man serving Zac even brought them all steaming mugs of hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows floating on top.

  “What kind of style would sir like to try?” he asked, taking in Zac’s reflection and raising his eyebrows at the robe-and-slippers ensemble.

  “Er, I’m not sure,” said Zac. He looked at Tom and Tilly in the mirror. “What do you think?”

  Tom shrugged.

  “Why don’t you try a few different things, dear,” offered Mrs. Huggins.

  “A good idea, madam,” said the elf excitedly.

  “Fine,” said Zac.

  The elf gazed expectantly at him.

  “Shall I choose some clothes?” Zac asked, embarrassed.

  The elf looked at him as though he’d just spoken complete gibberish.

  “That’s not how they do things here, Zac,” said Tilly. “Just look in the mirror.”

  Zac turned back to his reflection. The shop assistant grinned toothily.

  “How about this, sir?” he said, snapping his fingers.

  The tall mirror began to shift and warp as if someone were pouring water down its surface. When the glass cleared again, Zac squeaked in horror at what he saw. Although in reality he was still wearing his robe, the mirror showed something very different: He appeared to be dressed in a baggy pink fur suit with an enormous gold belt. A mass of ruffles exploded from a bright green shirt under his chin. It was a hideous combination — even worse than some of the most garish outfits Zac had seen around Slumber City.

  Tom fell off his chair with laughter, clutching his stomach. He was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe, and he kept making snorting sounds that attracted the glances of passing customers.

  Tilly turned away and covered her face, her shoulders quivering.

  “Erm . . . I think I’ll try something else?” said Zac, his cheeks now almost as bright as his suit.

  “Of course, sir,” said the elf, and he snapped his fingers again. Once more the surface of the mirror rippled, revealing another outfit. This one involved a lot of sparkly blue sequins, and a top hat that turned into an umbrella when it rained.

  “This is better than when Grandad got his leg stuck down the toilet!” said Tom, still fighting for breath.

  “Thomas!” said Mrs. Huggins. “Be quiet. Perhaps something a little less complicated, Zac, dear?”

  Zac nodded gratefully, and pointed to a passing customer who was more plainly dressed.

  “There!” he said. “Something like that.”

  The elf took one look at the man and turned back to Zac, deflated.

  “Very well,” he said with a sigh, snapping his fingers halfheartedly.

  “I think this is better,” said Zac, looking at himself wearing a pair of finely checked pants and a matching vest under a smart blue traveling cloak.

  “Oh, very handsome,” said Mrs. Huggins.

  “I’ll take them.”

  “Excellent!” said the assistant. He fetched a set of stepladders and began feverishly taking Zac’s measurements.

  “Well,” said Mrs. Huggins, “if you lot don’t mind, I’ll pop out for a few minutes.” She tapped the side of her nose. “I’m just going to pick up the You Know What . . .”

  With all the distractions Zac had almost forgotten Mrs. Huggins was collecting Tinn’s unfinished magical compa
ss.

  She turned and smiled at the little shop assistant. “Kind sir, would you mind keeping an eye on these three while I’m gone?”

  The elf saluted proudly. “Not at all, madam,” he said. “Anything for a customer of Fontooly’s.”

  “Thank you,” she said, kissing her children on the forehead. “I won’t be long.” She gave Zac’s arm a little squeeze, and disappeared into the crowd.

  “Where’s she got to?” Tom fidgeted.

  “Keep still. She won’t be much longer,” replied Tilly shortly. “You saw how busy it was out there . . .”

  Zac stepped out from behind a heavy velvet curtain wearing his new clothes. He stood in front of them, shuffling uncomfortably. Tom let out a low wolf whistle. Zac hung his head.

  “Sir looks magnificent,” said the elf, scurrying around making sure the clothes fit perfectly.

  The cashier was back on the ground floor. After paying for his new outfit with some of the disgusting teeth in his money pouch, Zac heard Tom and Tilly arguing again.

  “Well,” huffed Tom, “I say we go and find her! She’s been gone for almost an hour!”

  “We’re staying right here like she said, Thomas!” hissed Tilly, trying to keep her voice down. “We don’t even know where she went. And you know how busy it is outside. I’m the oldest and I say we stay here.”

  “You’re only the oldest by a couple of minutes!”

  The elf looked agitated. “I’m sure she’ll be back soon,” he kept repeating under his breath.

  “What do you think, Zac?” asked Tom, desperately. “We should go, shouldn’t we?”

  But before he could answer, Julius appeared on the crowded shop floor. He was obviously upset, and when he finally spotted Zac and the others, he hurried toward them.

  “Children!” he panted. “Thank the stars you’re safe!”

  There were dark rings around his magnified eyes. Worry was etched into his face. Something was very wrong.

  “What’s happened?” Zac asked.

  Julius turned to Tom and Tilly. “It’s your mother” he managed to say.

  Tom stepped back. “Mum?” he said loudly. “What’s happened to Mum?”

  Tilly said nothing. The color had drained from her face.

  “She’s . . . she’s been attacked,” stuttered Julius. “She’s alive, but she’s in a bad way.”

  “Where is she?” demanded Tom.

  “In Sweet Dreams Hospital. Your father is already there.”

  Tom began to run through the shop, banging into people as he went. Zac, Tilly, and Julius chased after him.

  “Oh, dear!” squeaked the elf, as he watched them rush out into the crowded city square. “Please do come again!”

  Noelle sat up stiffly and shook the fuzziness from her brain. There was something weighing down on her. Then she looked and realized her legs were completely buried under a ton of rubbish. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and peeled a rotting fish head from her arm.

  Rumpous Tinn was nowhere to be seen.

  “Mr. Tinn? Hello?”

  A mound of garbage shook beside her and Rumpous Tinn emerged, blinking sleepily. He looked at Noelle and his eyes shone.

  “Noelle!” he said. “You’re awake.”

  “Awake, yeah, and wondering why I’m buried in a pile of rancid leftovers,” she said.

  Tinn seemed to find this amusing. “I found this refuse pit just off the staircase. Those garbage chutes lead to the kitchen.” He pointed to three large holes in the wall. “Putting aside the possibility that the smell might kill us, I thought this would be as safe a place as any to get some rest. These days, my magic is not as strong as it used to be. I needed to recharge my batteries after fighting those guards, and you were out cold. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, ignoring the pain in her leg as she stood.

  Images of the fight played in her mind. She’d taken on a mountain troll! What had she been thinking?

  “Mr. Tinn,” she said, “can I ask you something? Something about how you treated those Dream Stealers back there?”

  “Of course,” Tinn said with a smile.

  “Well,” began Noelle, “why did you leave ’em alive? They ain’t nothin’ but monsters. They tortured you, and they’d have done you in without a second thought. Why didn’t you just use your magic to finish ’em off?”

  “A good question,” replied Tinn. “I uphold the rules of the Knights of Nod. As such, I have sworn to use magic only for good. I will certainly defend myself — but no good can ever come of taking a life, especially if there is another option. Those guards were already beaten. I ask you, Noelle, would we have been any nearer escape if I’d killed them?”

  “No,” said Noelle. “I suppose we wouldn’t.”

  “Then there is your answer.”

  The old man struggled to his feet. It was unbelievable, Noelle thought, that he’d managed to defeat not one, but five Dream Stealers, and a mountain troll.

  Maybe he was special. Maybe the Knights of Nod did exist. She shook her head. No. It’d take more than a couple of clever spells to change her mind. Let the old man get her out of this place; then she’d believe.

  “We should get moving,” said Tinn. “I think it is safe to assume that the Dream Stealers built this hideout relatively close to the Dream Plains so they’d have somewhere to stop for food and rest after a busy night’s work. If that is the case, then we can expect more company soon.”

  “Mr. Tinn?”

  “Yes?”

  “You really think we’ll get out, don’t you?”

  “I do,” he said, and then he did something extra-ordinary. He reached into his bushy beard, rummaged around for a moment, and pulled out a small copper device that looked like a pocket watch. He flicked open the lid and whispered something. A moment later Tinn smiled at the gadget as though it were an old friend.

  “What’s that?” said Noelle.

  “This is what’s going to help us escape.”

  “Is it gonna fly us out over the Dream Stealer lake?” she said.

  Tinn chuckled. “No, my dear girl. It is going to lead us to another way out.”

  “But there ain’t another way. I told you.”

  “You are quite sure?”

  She nodded.

  “What about the goblins?” he said.

  “What about ’em?”

  “Well, you told me they sneak in and steal from the Dream Stealers.”

  “So?”

  Tinn chuckled again. Noelle scowled. He was beginning to annoy her.

  “So,” he said patiently, “if they have a way in, they also have a way out.”

  Noelle’s heart began to race. He was right!

  “But even if that’s true,” she said. “How are we gonna find it?”

  Tinn held up the copper gadget. “This is a locator compass,” he said. “It is one of only two ever made. And it’s something I’m rather proud of.”

  “What does it do?”

  “It helps you find things,” said Tinn. “It leads you to anything you wish to locate, anywhere.”

  Noelle’s eyes fixed on the shining object in the old man’s hand. She felt a rush of excitement. “Anything? How?”

  “Well, you, or rather I — it will only work for me as I made it — simply ask it,” said Tinn. “And the dial will point me in the right direction. Look, I’ll show you.” He reached back into his beard and pulled out a tiny gold button. “Throw this over your head.”

  “What?”

  “Throw it away.”

  Noelle took the button and tossed it into the surrounding garbage.

  Tinn held out the locator compass so she could see the dial.

  “Lead us to the golden button,”
he said.

  Immediately, the dial began to spin. After a few moments, it came to rest. Tinn climbed through the garbage, and Noelle followed. After they’d taken six or seven steps, the dial began to glow.

  “Ah,” said Tinn, looking around the garbage at his feet. “It should be here somewhere . . . yes, here we go.”

  He leaned over and plucked something from the debris, then held out his open hand. The button was nestled in his palm.

  “Wow,” said Noelle, “it really works!”

  “It does. Now, enough of this, we’d better get a move on.” Tinn cleared his throat, and spoke directly to the compass. “Show us the way to the goblins’ secret exit.”

  The dial whirred into life again. This time, when it came to rest, it was pointing to the garbage chutes.

  Noelle stared at the holes in the wall. Green slime was dripping from them.

  “It must be broken,” she said.

  “It is operational, I assure you,” said Tinn.

  “So we’ve got to go up there?” she said, wrinkling her nose.

  “It makes sense,” said Tinn. “You may be invisible, but I can’t just walk up the stairs.”

  He offered her his hand.

  But in the blink of an eye, Noelle had disappeared.

  The old man chuckled and climbed up into one of the chutes. It smelt of rotten cheese. “Are you still with me, Noelle?”

  “You’re enjoying this, ain’t you?” she replied from out of thin air.

  “Oh, it isn’t so bad,” he said.

  “Yeah. Just what I was thinking,” said Noelle with a sniff, and they began to climb.

  Zac had seen many weird and wonderful things since his arrival in Nocturne, but as he stood on the edge of the moat around Slumber Mountain, it occurred to him that Sweet Dreams hospital might just be the strangest yet.

  When they’d headed toward the bridge, he’d assumed the hospital was on the other side of the water. It never crossed his mind that it might actually be on the water. As it turned out, Sweet Dreams Hospital was a huge boat — an ocean liner to be precise — no doubt plucked from the dream of a Wakeling. It was painted deep purple and gold, and its enormous funnel was a giant cigar puffing out thick white smoke.