Zac and the Dream Stealers (4 page)

Roughly cut stairs in the rock led Zac and the others down the face of the cliff.

At the bottom, Julius's fireball burned brighter, illuminating a hidden cove behind the thundering waterfall.

“Ahoy there!”

The voice came from a chubby rowboat bobbing about in the cove. Inside it, a figure so tall and thin he looked like a drawing of a stickman was waving frantically at them, as if they might not spot him. He was wearing a tattered top hat and tails, and his clothes were far too short for his gangly arms and legs. The boat was rocking wildly.

The stickman clicked his long fingers and the oars began to move of their own accord, propelling him suddenly toward the shore and knocking him off his feet. When he reached shallow water, he leapt from the boat and came splashing excitedly toward them.

“Cornelius! Julius! You're late. Where's Tinn?”

“He's been taken,” said Cornelius. “We were ambushed in the Eternal Forest. Dream Stealers, I think.”

A look of horror crawled over the stickman's face. His mouth moved, but no words came out. He swayed a little, and Zac thought he looked like a skinny tree about to crash to the ground.

“But all is not lost,” continued Cornelius. “Tinn distracted the Dream Stealers long enough for Julius and I to slip away and reach Eve Wonder. As you can see, she's agreed to return home with us, and she's brought along her grandson, Zac.”

The man held out a very long, lean hand. “By the stars,” he said, “Eve Wonder. I've heard all about you. It's a great pleasure to meet you at last. My name is Gideon Small. I'm a Knight of Nod, too.”

“Yes, yes, let's get moving, shall we?” said Cornelius, fidgeting with his mustache. “There isn't a moment to spare. Our first order of business is obvious. We must plan how to rescue Tinn, so we need to get to Slumber City as quickly as possible. That's the capital of Nocturne,” he added, for Zac's benefit.

They waded out to the boat and climbed aboard. Gideon sat at the front, facing everyone else. When they were all settled, he clicked his fingers, and the magic oars began to swish through the water.

“But we're heading straight for the waterfall,” said Zac.

Gideon smiled. “Of course we are, dear boy. Going through is so much quicker than going around.”

Before Zac could think about the wisdom of this, they had reached the roaring wall of water. Burying his head in his knees, he waited to be crushed. Nothing happened. It was as if an enormous invisible umbrella was protecting them. He sat up when he heard the others chuckling. Soon the waters gave way to a wide river, and the conversation turned back to Tinn's predicament.

“If the Dream Stealers have him, there's no telling where he might be,” said Julius. “But if it was one of their evil crews of werewolves or vampires that made the snatch, we'd have a fair idea where to start. That's the trouble with Dream Stealers. Under those masks, they're people just like us, humans who have turned to the dark side. Without their disguises, they blend in, so we're never sure where our enemies are.”

As they sped on across the water, Zac noticed twinkling in the darkness up ahead. The lights drew nearer, and a shape emerged from the gloom. Zac blinked.

“Granny.”

“Yes, lad?”

“Is that a double-decker bus floating toward us?”

“Oh, that'll be a leftover from some Wakeling's dream,” said Granny with a smile. “It would amaze you what turns up. Some people have the strangest imaginations! You know, there are merchants who make a living out of venturing into the Dream Plains and salvaging all sorts of things to sell.”

“But it's a bus! Buses don't float!”

“Well, that one does,” said Granny.

The rusty red bus bobbed gently past. There were round paddles where the wheels should have been. A tiny old man waved happily from the driver's seat. Zac lost sight of it as the rowboat rounded a bend in the river.

“Look up ahead!” said Granny suddenly. “Slumber City!”

The river broadened and an island came into view. A great mountain rose up into the night sky, twinkling with countless lights. It reminded Zac of a giant Christmas tree. A huge outer wall encircled the city. It was made with enormous stones, each one the size of a car. Zach wondered who could possibly have built such a thing.

“The greatest city in all of Nocturne,” said Cornelius proudly. “And the highest peak — Slumber Mountain.”

Gideon rolled his eyes. “Do excuse Cornelius, Zac,” he said breezily. “He's such a big softy.”

Cornelius's face reddened, and laughter rocked the boat as it glided into the shadow of the city. They swept up to a set of immense metal doors under a tangled curtain of seaweed, drawing level with a little platform on which sat an oversized wooden hut.

“Sshh! The guard has to let us in,” said Cornelius.

“Guard?”

The door of the hut creaked open, and something appeared, silhouetted against the cozy glow from inside. Whatever the creature was, it was too big for the hut; it seemed to be struggling to get out.

“What's that?” whispered Zac.

“A troll,” said Granny softly.

The creature took a deep breath and, an instant later, came crashing out.

Zac gasped. The troll was gigantic — twice as tall as a man — and as wide as the bus that had just floated past. It wore a massive metal helmet and mesh chest armor over its leathery body. The troll stood for a moment examining the boat, its head to one side. Zac swallowed as he felt its gaze pass over him.

The troll belched. “What's your business?” it growled in a voice so deep that Zac's ears began to ring.

Gideon beamed as he hopped up on to the platform. Tall and gangly though he was, even he was dwarfed by the height of the troll, whose meaty hands were bigger than Gideon's entire head.

“Oh, just returning from a trip to Port Town,” he said cheerily. He pointed toward Zac and the others. “Thought I'd take the family along.”

The troll stared at the odd group in the boat. Gideon gave them all a little wink. He seemed to be enjoying himself, but Zac had never been so nervous. At last, the troll grunted, and shrugged its great shoulders.

“Very well,” it said. “Go ahead.”

Gideon bowed and hopped back into the boat.

The troll lifted a huge ivory horn on a rope around its neck and placed it to its mouth. When it blew, the racket was as loud as a ship's foghorn. Seconds later another horn sounded from the other side of the wall, and the gates rumbled open. The boat shook and the dark water churned.

“Take us in,” said Gideon, with a wave of his hand. Once again the oars jolted into action, steering the boat into the city.

A little port opened up before them, filled with vessels of every description. There were fishing boats like those in the Waking World. But Zac could also see a whole range of more unusual crafts: a pirate ship made of bones; a trawler carved from an iceberg that didn't seem to be melting; and what looked very much like an extra-large coconut shell with a sail. An old sea dog even drifted past them in a tin bathtub, sleeping peacefully under an umbrella.

Beyond the water were the docks, and beyond the docks were rows of tumbledown houses and narrow cobbled streets that wound out of sight. Slumber Mountain rose spectacularly above the port. Now that he could see it more clearly, Zac realized every square foot of cliff had been built on. There were towers, quaint cottages, and crooked buildings with haphazard extensions jutting out at all sorts of angles. One building had three extra floors balanced on top of it like a house of cards, and another had a windmill sticking out of the roof.

When the boat reached the buzzing quayside, Zac and the Knights climbed up the steps to the harbor walkway, avoiding the slithering seaweed.

Had Zac been anywhere else, he might have felt conspicuous walking around in his pajamas and bathrobe, but some of the people here were dressed so strangely it didn't seem to matter. It was as if Slumber City's residents had taken bits of style from every time period in the Waking World and mashed them all together. One man walked past wearing a bowler hat, a string vest, and a pair of orange velvet flared pants. Another wore yellow shorts with a tartan T-shirt and pink gloves. There were also lots of hats — beanies, bonnets, and berets, even a few piled high with fruit or flowers. One woman seemed to have a real bird's nest in hers.

“Come on,” said Granny. “We must get to The Forty Winks and formulate a plan.”

“The Forty Winks?” asked Zac, watching a man cycle past on a penny-farthing bike that was belching smoke.

Granny glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “It's the secret headquarters of the Order,” she whispered. “A pub on the other side of the city.”

“Your secret headquarters is a
pub
?” said Zac. “And the Dream Stealers have never found it?”

Granny smiled. “This is no ordinary pub.”

“It's protected by powerful magic,” said Gideon. “A Knight cannot reveal the location of The Forty Winks to anyone who's not connected to the Order. As far as I can tell the spell is unbreakable.”

They made their way through a labyrinth of torch-lit streets and twisting alleyways. Zac read some of the shop names as they hurried past:
M
ADAME
M
ORTIMER'S
M
ASSIVE
M
USHROOMS
;
W
ILBUR
J.
C
RINKLESNITCH
&
S
ON
A
POTHECARY
—
R
ARE
P
IXIE
D
UST IN
S
TOCK
;
W
ILLOW THE
W
ARLOCK'S
W
ITCH AND
W
IZARD
S
ECOND-HAND
E
MPORIUM
.
There seemed to be at least one pub on every street, and most were filled with a rabble of cheery customers.

Zac lost count of how many corners they turned before they ventured up a winding cobbled lane. A minute or two later, Cornelius stopped in his tracks and turned to his companions.

They were standing in front of a row of run-down buildings, and sandwiched between two of them was a crumbling cake of a tavern. The windows were completely black with grime. A crooked sign hung above the door. It was so faded that the gold letters were barely visible:
T
HE
F
ORTY
W
INKS
.

“
This
is it?” said Zac. “This is your HQ?”

“Yes,” replied Cornelius, looking a little hurt.

“I mean it's, um, brilliant,” Zac said quickly.

Cornelius cheered up at once. He walked up to the prehistoric door and placed his hand on the doorknob, which was shaped like a crescent moon.

“Well,” he said with a wink, “shall we?”

Fresh, cold water trickled down Rumpous Tinn's face, waking him from an exhausted slumber. His dry eyes cracked open. The first thing he saw was a wet rag floating gently above his head.

“Who's there?” he said.

The rag dropped to the floor.

“A friend.”

Tinn recognized the voice. It belonged to the invisible person he'd heard earlier.

“You're weak,” she said. “You ought to eat.”

Glancing around, Tinn realized he was back in his cell. He must have lost consciousness. The things Shadow had made him see . . . But he'd managed to resist telling her anything. He shook the horror from his head. His mind ached.

A plate of bacon and eggs lay on the floor beside him. He was so hungry he didn't even care if it was poisoned. Grabbing the plate, he began to eat greedily.

“Drink,” said the little voice once again, and a sumptuous goblet was pushed into Tinn's hands. He took a long draft. The water rushed through his body, immediately rousing every muscle and nerve. He sat back against the wall and let out a sigh.

“Thank you,” he said.

“That's all right,” said the voice.

“I must confess,” added Tinn, “that I am very curious to meet you properly. What is your name?”

“My name?”

There was silence for a moment.

“It's Noelle,” said the voice softly. “My name's Noelle.”

“A beautiful name. Mine is Rumpous Tinn.”

“I like my name,” said Noelle. “My mum used to sing a song about it. It's been so long since I've heard anyone use it.”

Tinn leaned forward, searching the room for any sign of movement.

“Tell me, Noelle,” he murmured, “how did you come to be in this place?”

“It was so long ago,” whispered Noelle. “I can only remember flashes of what happened. Our village was attacked one night. The screams woke me up. My mum sang to me. She was tryin' to keep me quiet.”

“Who attacked your village, Noelle?”

“Vampires. It was vampires, Mr. Tinn. Sent by the Dream Stealers to drive us out. They were feedin' on almost everyone they could find, but they kept some of us alive so they could bring us here, to this place. They have a deal with the Dream Stealers, see. The vampires bring folk to the Dream Stealers, and the Dream Stealers keep them here in secret and practice their dark magic on 'em.”

Tinn sighed.

“Mum and me hid as best we could, but they smelt us out us eventually. Mum wouldn't let me go. I was screamin', so they bit her. And she fell.”

Tinn bowed his head.

“I was brought here with a few of us from my village. They're all gone now. The Dream Stealers finished 'em off.”

“But they didn't finish you, did they?” he said softly. “You were different from the others. You could disappear.”

Tinn saw the air flutter slightly, and out of nothingness a girl emerged. She was pretty with dark, soft features and olive skin, and she was dressed in rags. She was crying.

“At first . . . ,” she said, wiping her hazel eyes, “at first I couldn't control it — it just happened. I'd disappear sometimes when I was scared. But as I got older and stronger, I started understandin' it. Now I can be invisible whenever I choose. That's how I survived down here for so long. When I'm invisible I can go wherever I please. I steal food — they got kitchens here. Some of them Dream Stealers stay for days at a time. And they have to feed their prisoners — gotta keep 'em alive for a while at least. I nicked your breakfast off the kitchen table.”

“And most delicious it was, too.” Tinn smiled. “Noelle, I have a question. If you can slip past doors and such, why have you never escaped?”

She laughed. “You think I ain't tried? I can only get so far, up to the ground level. But the exit is guarded.”

“Well” — Tinn smiled again — “with my help, I'm sure we can get past a few guards.”

“You don't understand,” she said. “It ain't guarded by Dream Stealers, by people. It's guarded by water — by a lake. The water is . . . it's alive. It's bewitched. Anyone who touches it is pulled into a watery grave, sucked into the lake and drowned. I'm too scared to swim. I've seen it happen.”

Tinn's face darkened. “Why didn't I know about this place?” he muttered quietly to himself.

“They built it in secret,” said Noelle, “a long time ago. I've heard the Dream Stealers talkin'. In the old days lots of 'em were rich and they wanted a comfortable place somewhere out of the way where they could come to practice their dark stuff. So they built this place up here in the North. Nobody knows about it, except the goblins, and they only sneak in and steal food, or prisoners. It ain't possible to escape.”

“Nothing is impossible,” said Tinn. “There's always a way.”

Noelle rolled her eyes doubtfully.

“I have a question for you, Noelle,” said Tinn. “Have you ever heard of the Knights of Nod?”

“Yeah, I have,” she said. “I've heard prisoners telling stories about the Knights. Some of them said they died out after the last war. Other people said they never existed to begin with. They were just a fairy tale made up to make people feel safer.”

“And what do you think?” Tinn asked.

Noelle pursed her lips in thought, then said, “Well, I think they're probably a fairy tale, too.”

Tinn smiled sadly to himself.

“What?” asked Noelle. “What you smilin' at?”

“Oh, my dear girl,” replied Tinn, holding his hands up, “I am certainly not laughing
at
you. It's just that I find it a little sad that all this time you believed the Knights of Nod to be nothing more than a bedtime story when here you are, talking to their leader.”