Zac and the Dream Stealers (8 page)

After breakfast, Zac, Tom, and Tilly waited for Mrs. Huggins.

“Did you see the state of Julius?” said Tom. “He was so nervous I thought he was going to faint.”

“I know,” Zac said. “
And
he hardly stopped staring at Gideon, as if he was really scared of him.”

“He left in a hurry, didn't he?” said Tilly.

“So did Gideon,” said Tom. “I'll bet he wanted to keep an eye on Julius before he set off for Port Town.”

“And what about this compass your mum is picking up today?” Zac said.

“I know,” said Tilly. “It sounds amazing.”

At that moment, Mrs. Huggins and Granny appeared, deep in conversation.

“Ready?” said Mrs. Huggins.

“All set,” said Zac.

Granny ruffled his hair. “Have a nice time, lad,” she said. “I'll see you when you get back.”

Mrs. Huggins led the children through the door to the room with the trampoline floor. Zac waved back at Granny as the door creaked shut. They walked past the ends of the large chutes they had slid down the night before. But there didn't seem to be any way back up.

“Is there a staircase or something?” Zac asked.

“Stairs?” Tom repeated, as if it were the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard. “Of course not. We've got something much better. Come on! Look!”

With that, he bounced away toward the door on the opposite wall and opened it, revealing yet another narrow chamber. There were tracks on the floor that ran the length of the room and bent sharply upward, leading through a hole in the wall and out of sight. On the track was a rusty metal bathtub on wheels.

“Climb in,” yelled Mrs. Huggins, clambering over the side of the cart. Tom was next and Tilly followed him enthusiastically.

“Come on, Zac, dear,” said Mrs. Huggins. “It's perfectly safe.”

“You'll love it,” Tom said, beaming.

Zac gingerly climbed aboard. It wasn't very comfortable with the four of them crushed in there, but he didn't have much time to think about that. After checking that the children were safely seated, Mrs. Huggins tapped on the side of the bath three times.

For a long moment nothing happened.

Then there was a crunching noise.

Then a
clunk-a-chunk-clunk
.

“Hang on, dears,” said Mrs. Huggins. “Arms inside!”

Zac clutched the edges as tightly as he could, and felt some of the rusty metal come away. This didn't make him feel any better.

There was a sound like a giant blowing his nose and the cart went screaming up the tracks and through the hole in the wall like a bullet from a gun.

If Zac could have breathed he would have screamed. Instead, he settled for trying to keep his face attached to the rest of his body as the dark tunnel streaked past in a blur. There was an occasional yellow flash when they whizzed past a torch. Up and down and round they went, the underground air rushing through their hair, until they whistled around a corner and came to a jolting halt at a wooden platform. Barnaby the bartender was waiting, his large round face beaming as he reached down and helped them from the bathtub.

“Hello, Holly, my dear,” he said. “Bang on time as usual.”

“Morning, Barnaby,” said Mrs. Huggins.

“Hi, Barnaby!” chimed Tom and Tilly.

“Good gracious, all of you!” He exclaimed, mopping the sweat from his brow with a silk handkerchief. “What a pleasure! Now, follow me, if you will.”

He led them to the other end of the platform, where they climbed up some wooden steps and through a small trapdoor that led to the back room of The Forty Winks.

When they were all safely through, Barnaby dragged a stone slab over the trapdoor, concealing the entrance perfectly. They all walked out into the deserted pub.

“This is where I leave you,” said Barnaby, unlocking the heavy front door and pulling it open.

Zac felt a wave of freezing air on his face. There was the smell of crisp, wintry wood fire, and the sounds of a bustling city.

“My word,” said Barnaby, rubbing his hands together. “Looks like we had quite a snowstorm overnight.”

He was right.

As they stepped from the warm pub out to the cobbled street, their feet crunched into new-fallen snow. Zac gazed around as people bustled and jostled between the quaint little shops and the crooked gingerbread houses.

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:
P
ONTIUS
P
ULLERWICK'S
P
YROTECHNIC
S
UPERSTORE
.
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 . . .”