Colemine, the Prince

by Clayton Smith

  Mandrill rubbed his hands together excitedly. They had broken through to the Bloc.

  “Once more,” he said.

  The Tooth Fairy let loose a hot, angry breath from the back of his throat, a breath that rattled the shower curtain rings on the rod. He took another step back, then rammed his shoulder forward, hard. His legs smashed through the bathtub, exploding it outward, and with a furious hiss, he blasted through the outer wall, stumbling angrily into the blank white room on the other side.

  The dentist sneered as he followed the nightmare into the Writer’s Bloc.

  The sand made it hard to cross the expanse of the room, but it was still preferable to the plain white floor that had threatened to drive Cole mad. His feet sank into the fine powder, and it poured into his shoes, but the discomfort it caused was far outweighed by the relief the broken blocks promised. The beautiful night sky beckoned him from the other side of the wall, blazoned with the brightest stars he’d ever seen. Between their newfound freedom and his recent discovery of transcendental meditation, Cole was feeling fine.

  Then he remembered that Polly was still out there somewhere in the infinite worlds, alone and uncertain, and probably scared. His good feelings faded and drew back. His cheeks burned hot and red with shame; he’d been feeling hopeful when one of his friends was probably feeling the most hopeless she’d ever been.

  He was shaken from his reverie by a loud WHUMP from somewhere off to his right.

  “What was that?” he whispered cautiously, craning his neck back over his shoulder.

  “What was what?” asked Willy as he stomped through the sand, kicking it high into the air with every step.

  Cole heard the sound again.

  WHUMP.

  “That.” This time, Willy heard it too.

  WHUMP.

  One of the giant white bricks shuddered, and dust puffed out from the edges.

  “What is it?” Willy asked, screwing up his face and wiping his nose with his arm.

  “I think someone’s trying to break through,” Cole said quietly. Then he added, “Or something.” He turned and hurried his pace, running after the Stranger and the girls. Willy followed close behind, trudging quickly through the shifting sand.

  “Maybe it’s a good guy,” Willy suggested.

  “Maybe it’s a bad guy,” Cole frowned.

  Somehow, he felt that was much, much more likely.

  They didn’t have to wait long to find out. With the very next WHUMP, the white block broke loose of its mooring, and then it disappeared into the darkness as it was yanked back through the wall.

  All five of the travelers heard the sound that time. The Stranger slid to a stop in the sand, whirled around, and slipped the revolver from its holster. “Keep going,” he instructed the children. “Go through the hole, and don’t look back.”

  “But you–” Cole began.

  “I’m right behind you,” the Stranger snapped.

  Cole turned and ran, trailing behind the other children by a few steps. But he couldn’t pull his eyes away from the wall, and so he watched with growing horror as a monstrous, shiny-black creature burst through the bricks, its mouth of daggers opened wide and snapping in his direction, dripping with pink drool of anticipation.

  The Tooth Fairy smelled children.

  He unfurled his huge, black wings and flapped them hard, lifting his long, twisted body into the air. His wings sent blasts of stale air across the Bloc. They whipped the white sand into a frenzy, and soon there was a full-on sandstorm ripping across the huge, white room.

  “Keep going!” the Stranger shouted over the sound of the Tooth Fairy’s beating wings. The children scrambled toward the huge hole in the wall and the calm night air beyond.

  The Stranger leveled the barrel of his gun at the approaching nightmare. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew what his hands were capable of with this instrument in his hand. Just as he began to squeeze the trigger, he caught a movement from the far wall, from over the nightmare’s shoulder. He spared a glance toward the motion and saw a bald man with a salt-and-pepper beard step through the hole that the nightmare had blasted through the wall. The man wore a long, white doctor’s coat and a thin smile of amusement.

  The dentist, the Stranger thought.

  The Tooth Fairy screeched, squealing out a piercing, guttural howl from the back of his throat that made the hairs on the back of the Stranger’s neck prickle.

  He turned his attention back to the nightmare.

  He’d deal with the dentist soon enough.

  First things first.

  He squeezed the trigger with practiced grace and unloaded all six bullets at the screaming monster. The bullets found their marks, as they always did; one to the head, one to the gut, one to each shoulder, and two to the chest. But just before the bullets made contact, the thing’s skin actually spiraled open, sensing the bullets and making a tunnel for them to pass through. All six slugs sailed through the nightmare as if he were made of smoke. Once the bullets were through, the skin closed back up, and the nightmare was solid once more.

  The Stranger cursed under his breath. He spun the gun back into its holster and crouched low, ready to leap, as the nightmare darted closer. The creature with no eyes opened its mouth even wider, displaying all three rows of its razor-sharp teeth. It slashed down at the cowboy, teeth-first. The Stranger sprang to the side just as the Tooth Fairy flashed past, his teeth snapping against empty air. The Stranger rolled away, but the monster reached out with one of his feet and caught the cowboy in the shoulder with his talons, sinking the sharp claws into the IF’s flesh. The Stranger screamed in pain as four spots of blood blossomed across his shirt until they melted together and formed a huge, red pool under the nightmare’s claws. The Tooth Fairy swung its other foot over and gripped the cowboy by the other shoulder, too, clutching him tightly. The Tooth Fairy flapped his dark wings and rose into the air, lifting the Stranger off of his feet. “I haven’t eaten in dayssssh,” the creature hissed, licking his teeth hungrily.

  The Stranger dangled helplessly from the Tooth Fairy’s rear talons. The nightmare reached down with one hand as the small mouth in the center of its palm opened wide and smacked its lips, ready to taste the Stranger’s teeth.

  But then the Tooth Fairy stopped. He cocked his head suddenly to the side, focusing intently on a disturbance that was occurring on the other side of the room.

  The children were nearing the edge of the Bloc. The Tooth Fairy didn’t know what awaited them on the other side, nor did he have any inkling how much power a nightmare would have there. He had to stop the children, to claim their teeth here, in the Writer’s Bloc, or else risk losing them forever. He opened his claws, and the Stranger’s shoulders slipped. The cowboy fell through the air and slammed into the mound of sand. The air exploded out of his lungs. He lay there, dazed and wheezing, scratching the heels of his boots against the sand.

  “Faster!” Cole cried, chancing a look over his shoulder. The terrifying creature was speeding toward them now, his terrible wings unfurled and flapping like leather sails.

  Emma huffed and puffed her way up a sand dune. “I can’t!” she cried. She fell to her hands and knees. Her hair hung down over her face in sweaty tangles. Her cheeks burned red as she fought to catch her breath. “I can’t,” she said again.

  Cole reached down to help her up, but it was Willy who took her hand first. “Come on,” he said, “just roll down.” He pulled Emma to the top of the dune and gave her a gentle shove over the other side. With a yelp of surprise, Emma went tumbling down the sand and rolled to within a few feet of the wall, where Etherie pulled her to her feet and helped her toward the peaceful land beyond the Bloc.

  Cole looked at Willy.

  Willy looked at Cole.

  “What?” Willy asked.

  The nightmare screamed again, a shrill, throat-bursting so
und that shook the sand beneath their feet. Cole clapped his hands over his ears, and terror gripped every molecule of his body.

  The creature’s scream had been close.

  Very close.

  He turned slowly, every molecule of his body trembling. And there, hovering just three feet above his head, was the Tooth Fairy. He looked down on the boys with his empty eyes and stretched his mouth open wide. His long, black lizard tongue uncurled and licked the creature’s lips. “Teeeeeeeeth,” the Tooth Fairy rasped.

  Cole’s knees turned to water. He fell down on his seat, staring dumbly up at the massive monster from the nightmare lands. “Come on, Cole!” Willy screamed, tugging at Cole’s shirt. But Cole didn’t respond. He couldn’t respond.

  In the face of such terror, his brain couldn’t remember how to work.

  Willy tugged a few more times, then flapped his arms in helplessness. The nightmare was closer now, and Willy could smell the sourness of the creature’s breath as it hovered above them. “Come on, Cole!” he shouted again. But Cole didn’t respond, and Willy couldn’t wait any longer. He turned and ran down the sand hill. He followed the girls through the hole in the wall and into the imagination beyond.

  At least they’re safe, a quiet voice whispered in Cole’s mind. At least they’re safe for now.

  The Tooth Fairy folded in his wings and crashed to the ground. He stalked the terrified child, circling around to the back, almost dancing now, enjoying the advantage and savoring the moment. The creature tiptoed behind him, struggling for balance on the shifting sand. Then he uncurled the long fingers, exposing the open mouth in the center of his palm.

  Then he wrapped his hand delicately around Cole’s face.

  Cole was so frozen with terror that he couldn’t even scream.

  The lips in the Tooth Fairy’s palm worked against Cole’s mouth, prying it open with surprising strength. Once his mouth was open, and his teeth were exposed, the mouth in the hand drew in a deep breath.

  Cole fainted away to cold, lonely darkness as his teeth begin to wobble in his gums.

  The last thing he heard was the rasping voice of the Tooth Fairy, urging his hand to its terrible work:

  “Feeeeeeeeeed.”

  The Stranger struggled to his feet. He clutched his bruised ribs as he stumbled forward, lost his footing, and hit the sand again. He grunted and pushed himself back to his feet. Pain ripped through his shoulders, flaming in his lungs and setting fire to every breath.

  “That was quite a tumble,” came a soft, low voice behind him. The Stranger turned, his eyes wide with shock. No one had ever been able to sneak up on him.

  No one. Ever.

  But today, that streak was broken.

  With the hand that wasn’t gripping his side, the Stranger reached for his six-shooter, but the dentist was fast…much faster than he looked. He held a hypodermic needle in one hand, and as soon as the Stranger flinched, the dentist stabbed the needle into the back of his palm.

  “Easy, partner,” said the dentist with a wry grin. “Let’s put those shooting hands to rest.”

  The lidocaine mixture went straight to work, spreading through the Stranger’s hand like water through a gulley. He felt an instant tingling sensation from his wrist to the tips of his fingers, and in a matter of seconds, the entire hand was numb. The Stranger gasped and worked the fingers; they felt rubbery, and huge, and as useless as a sandbag tied to the end of his arm.

  “My own concoction,” the dentist said admiringly, holding up the syringe. “Works fast, doesn’t it?” The Stranger snarled and flashed his good hand out to strike the dentist, but Mandrill balled his right hand into a fist and slammed it into the Stranger’s bruised ribs. Bright lights of pain exploded in the cowboy’s head. The world tilted away, and he crumpled to his knees. The dentist reached down and injected the remaining anesthesia into the other hand. “There, now. That ought to tame you some.”

  The Stranger grunted, a low, guttural moan of frustration and helplessness that he worked hard to bury in his throat. He lifted his eyes and looked over at Cole. The black nightmare creature had its hand over the boys mouth, its own lips pulled back in a cruel smile. He glanced beyond the nightmare and saw that the other children had made it safely through the gap in the wall. He turned his blazing, furious eyes back to the dentist, who was capping the syringe. The Stranger pushed his rage down into his legs, rolled back onto his toes, and sprang at the doctor with a vicious snarl. He drove his shoulder into the other man’s chest, and they both went toppling down into the sand.

  He wasn’t used to fighting without his hands, or without his gun. As he rolled over the dentist, he cocked his right arm and brought his elbow down toward the dentist’s nose. The dentist dodged easily, and the cowboy’s elbow plunged into sand. The dentist kicked out and caught the Stranger solidly in the hip. The Stranger rolled away and clamored back to his feet, which was no easy task without the help of his hands, which dangled uselessly from his wrists and refused to respond to even the most rudimentary commands.

  “Fortunately, I don’t need to preserve your teeth,” the dentist snarled. He swung out with his fist, and the cowboy sidestepped. The dentist connected with nothing but air. As his momentum pulled him forward, the Stranger brought a knee up into his ribs. He connected with a loud crack. The dentist groaned as he twisted away, hobbling down the sand dune.

  The Stranger spat into the sand, satisfied.

  Things were evening up a little.

  The dentist skidded down the sand and worked to catch his breath. He grabbed at his side and winced. Then he shrugged out of his coat, held the sleeves in his hands, and twirled the material over itself, spinning it into a long, tight rope. He dug one foot into the sand and kicked it up, into the Stranger’s face. The Stranger turned his head, but not fast enough; the sand flew into his eyes, scratching against his corneas and rending him blind.

  The dentist snaked around the cowboy and looped the coat rope around his neck from behind. The Stranger reached up and scrabbled at the coat, trying to pry it away from his throat as the dentist pulled, but his fingers were numb, and he couldn’t make purchase on the cloth. He coughed and choked as he struggled, trying to kick his way free, but the dentist was a large man, and strong, and he held the bind. Blood filled the Stranger’s head, and small, black stars crept into his eyes as he began to lose consciousness.

  You failed them, whispered the voice inside his head.

  On the other side of the wall, Willy and the girls watched in horror as the dentist choked the life out of the Stranger. The nightmare Tooth Fairy was still pressing his hungry hand against Cole’s mouth, and the boy had fainted from fear. “Do something!” Emma urged Willy, nudging him toward the lintel. Willy looked at her like she was insane.

  “Do what?!” he demanded.

  “Something!”

  “I don’t know what to do!”

  He looked to Etherie for help, but she stared in silent terror, shaking her head at the scene that was unfolding before them. “I don’t know, either,” she whispered hollowly. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Emma paced in a panic. “We have to do something! They’re gonna die!” she wailed.

  “Maybe I can help,” said a new voice behind them.

  The three children spun around. The voice belonged to a boy about their age, a boy who sat astride a green and silver rug that rippled calmly as it floated several feet above the ground.

  But it wasn’t just any boy.

  “Cole?” Willy asked, his face twisted with disbelief. He gaped up at the familiar, thoughtful face of his friend. “What’re you–? Who’re–? How are you–?” he stammered. Finally, his voice full of frustration, he cried, “Aren’t you getting eaten by a monster right now?” Willy turned back toward the Writers Bloc to confirm that the real Cole was still being attacked by the nightmare creature. Then he turned back to face Oth
er Cole, floating above him on the rug. “How is this happening?”

  Other Cole frowned down at the small group below. He raised an eyebrow at Etherie and tilted his head toward Willy. “Is he always like this?”

  Etherie was too astonished to reply.

  “How are there two Coles?” Willy yelled, clamping his hands over his ears and sliding them down the sides of his face.

  Emma frowned up at the boy on the floating carpet. He did look a lot like Cole…but there were things that were different, too. This new Cole wore a red cloak around his shoulders like a cape. Emma had never seen Cole wear a cape before. And this Cole held a large, wooden club in his right hand. It looked heavy, and Emma doubted that real Cole could even lift it. Both Coles’ arms were about the same size, but this new Cole seemed somehow...stronger.

  Also, this new Cole had an uncomfortable-looking silver crown on his head, studded with dark green stones.

  “It’s not another Cole,” Emma gasped, struggling back up to her feet. “It’s Prince Colemine!”

  “From the movie?” Willy said doubtfully, at the exact same time as Etherie said, “From the book?”

  “Yes!” Emma breathed in amazement. She reached up and pressed her finger against the prince’s foot. She flushed with excitement as she confirmed that the floating boy was real.

  “Do we know each other?” the prince asked, cocking his head to the side in a remarkably Cole-like gesture.

  “The whole world knows you!” Emma cried, jumping up and down.

  “Hm. That’s...odd” Prince Colemine glanced into the Writers Bloc through the hole in what was, from inside this imagining, a high, brick garden wall. “We can discuss this more in a bit. You three stay here.”