The Spinner of Dreams

by K. A. Reynolds

  The dark thing in her cursed hand pushed closer to the surface, like it was listening, like it wanted to speak, too. The tip of the spire broke through her skin. When she looked next, Mister Edwards was gone.

  Huffing and puffing, Annalise skidded around the next corner, heart throttling her chest. She’d arrived at a dead end. “Mister Edwards?” She doubled back, plowing through the nasty ghosts full speed. She took another turn, but every corner looked the same.

  “Oh, sure, the fox seems innocent now, doesn’t he,” Emanda said, grasping on to Annalise’s cloak sleeve. “But all he really wants is to steal your prize.”

  Ivor got in Annalise’s face. “Too bad you lost the Spinner of Dreams’s book! It could have told you the fox wants two dreams for the price of one.” He laughed. “Seems he and your wicked hand had you fooled.”

  No. Mister Edwards wouldn’t do that.

  They’re trying to trick you—the labyrinth is trying to trick you.

  Annalise sped through the couple’s cruel ghosts. They cackled inside her head and followed, but Annalise didn’t stop running. She focused on her feet and breath, took a right turn, and located Mister Edwards.

  He stood, back to a dead end, growling ominously and watching her from the shadows.

  “Look at him watching you,” the tall ghost of Riles Murlap, the grim doctor present at her birth, spat. “Can’t you see he’s not what he seems?”

  Mister Edwards’s hackles rose. His red eyes narrowed as she approached.

  “The labyrinth doesn’t want you here,” Riles continued. “It hates you, like everyone else does.”

  “I don’t believe you!” Annalise cried and approached the black fox. The closer she drew, the louder his growls became. She clenched her now-smoking fist and stopped a few feet away.

  For a moment, Annalise thought he’d lunge like a wolf and bite. Doubt slipped in through the cracks of her mind. The ghosts aren’t right about him, are they?

  The apparitions laughed and hovered above them.

  Breathing fast, Annalise knelt at Mister Edwards’s paws. “Please, Mister Edwards, it’s just me, and I want to help.”

  The snarling fox lifted his glazed-over eyes and stared past her, talking to himself.

  “She thinks she can overpower me. That she’s better than me because of that thing inside her hand. The horned creature behind her mark sees—it hears, it knows!” The dazed fox shook his head and squeezed his eyes tight. “I can’t trust her—I don’t even know her! She doesn’t like me, I see that now. She only brought me here as a sacrifice to the maze—to keep me from Arthur—from my beloved, Mister Amoureux!”

  Before Annalise could respond, the fox lunged forward and snapped the air an inch from her chest. Annalise cried out and scrambled backward. “Mister Edwards.” She choked back so many old scars of hurt, ridicule, and rejection, her voice cracked with tears. “Why are you acting this way? You said not to believe them. You are my friend. Aren’t you?”

  Annalise crouched in the passageway’s center in a shaft of crimson light. She stroked her hair by fours, clenching her cursed fist in the folds of her cloak while the ghosts laughed, waiting for her to cry. Then, as if waking from a nightmare, Mister Edwards thrust his head up and gasped.

  The moonlight flushed from his eyes when he blinked and set his gaze on Annalise. “What happened?” He sank to the ground, confused. “Miss Meriwether, I am so sorry. I thought . . . I thought you were hurting me. I didn’t mean to attack you.” He moved closer to her, ears low. “I should have known—I should have been stronger. I never should have let that happen.”

  “Oh, Mister Edwards!” Annalise’s fear dissolved instantly into happy relief. When she glanced about, the ghosts were gone. “It’s all right. Whatever you saw wasn’t real. Because I do like you, and I’d never sacrifice you to this horrible place. Believe me, the last thing I would ever think is that I’m better than anyone else.” Annalise lowered her eyes and stood. “You’re my first real friend, and”—her heart fluttered—“I really hope you like me, too.”

  The shy fox smiled. “I do like you, Miss Meriwether, very much. And I’m delighted you think of me as a friend.”

  Annalise’s face lit up like a hundred-watt bulb. “Oh. Mister Edwards, thank you.” She cleared the flutter of joy from her throat. “Now, how about we get through this maze, beat the Fate Spinner, and finally reach our dreams?”

  “Yes,” Mister Edwards said hopefully. “I’d like that.”

  “Good. Let’s go.”

  They’d only taken a few steps away from the dead end when a blood-chilling shriek ripped through the corridor on a scourge of cold wind.

  Her hair and his fur blew back. Annalise shivered. Mister Edwards growled, “The Fate Spinner. I don’t think she’s happy with us.”

  Annalise met his frightened eyes with her own. “It’s not our job to make her happy. But it is our right to try to defeat her.”

  The ground shook beneath them. An echoing grind ripped through the air as the stone blocks making up the dead end fell away and revealed a new passageway. At their backs, the corridor that led them here sealed shut.

  “Mercy,” Annalise said, staring at the ivy-strewn archway. “Does this mean we passed the first test and defeated the Gate of Doubt?”

  “You’re exactly right.” Mister Edwards stared into the dark entrance ahead. “This is the passageway I smelled earlier. The connection to path three that I know leads to the end.”

  The new corridor was as dark as oblivion. A sign spun out of the black-hearted ivy beneath the arch:

  The Gate of Rejection.

  Annalise turned to Mister Edwards and gulped. “When you and your husband completed the labyrinth, you must have passed through each gate on path three.” The fox gave a slow, haunted nod. “What did you find through the Gate of Rejection, Mister Edwards?”

  Mister Edwards stroked his tail and hugged it close. “We were gifted a candy shop, filled with the most beautiful lollipops, swizzle sticks, colorful candies, and chocolates. The confectionery shop of our dreams. It was so beautiful. Too beautiful. . . . I never wanted to leave.” The black fox smiled sadly. “Mister Amoureux has always been so much wiser than I am. He saw right through the enchantment. We might have died there if it wasn’t for him.”

  Overhead, black crows appeared.

  Annalise said quietly, “Your Mister Amoureux sounds lovely. What did you do, to get so far together? How did you escape?”

  Mister Edwards sniffed back emotion and cleared his throat. “Mister Amoureux found a loophole. Hopefully the trick we learned last time will work here, too.” He motioned forward. “Shall we?”

  Dead leaves blew up from the ground and vanished into the shadowed entrance. Annalise counted breaths and pushed down the growing pain in her big hand. “We shall, Mister Edwards,” she answered, remembering her dream.

  I wish to rule my own destiny and rid myself of this curse.

  Then do it, she told herself.

  As they readied themselves to step into the next gate, Annalise’s cursed hand burned beneath her cloak as if dipped in boiling oil; the monster within her hand thrashed and swelled and grew. Annalise wondered what her cursed hand was trying to tell her as the two plunged into the void, utterly unprepared for what would come next.

  Chapter 16

  The Terrible Hunger of Dreams

  Annalise and Mister Edwards pushed through the darkness and into a bright ruby light. The Gate of Rejection opened into a walled, round courtyard the size of Annalise’s bedroom. Moonlight lit the circular center from high above, sharp ivy tangled over the stones. The air smelled as feral as an animal den layered with bones, yet the sky was open and clear.

  Right away, her big hand went numb.

  Annalise hated to admit it, but she’d come to rely on the cues of her cursed hand to help guide her through the dark. Sometimes she trusted the monster within her, other times, not so much. But the farther she and Mister Edwards ventured into the labyrinth
, the bigger and heavier it grew. How much longer until her monster broke free? What would happen then? How desperately she wished she had her mom and dad to lend her their confident smiles when hers were frightened and spare. Did they miss her, or were they glad she and her curse were gone? What would they tell her if they were here now?

  Focus, Annalise, they’d say. All your dreams might still come true.

  Mister Edwards sniffed the towering wall closing them in. Suddenly, an insatiable hunger and thirst grew in Annalise, despite her efforts to ward against that. Fear brushed her skin like cold feathers.

  “I don’t like this,” Annalise whispered. “It feels dangerous. Like something is watching us. Like something is waiting to pounce.”

  “This is the Labyrinth of Fate and Dreams, Miss Meriwether. Every move we make is dangerous, and someone’s always watching.” He glanced at the entrance through which they’d come, then ran his paw—carefully—over the ivy-strewn stones. “There should be at least one door hiding here somewhere. . . .”

  Again, Annalise chastised herself for losing the book that might have helped them. Where were the rooms with the legendary creatures hiding rewards? As much as she didn’t want to find deadly beasts, she did want the magical rewards.

  Something occurred to her while observing the high-as-the-sky walls. “Mister Edwards, did you and Mister Amoureux ever try climbing the walls? If we reached the top, we could see which way—”

  “No!” Mister Edwards snapped. “I—we tried, and it nearly got us killed. The ivy’s as sharp as daggers. Besides,” he said, glancing at his stump. “I wouldn’t attempt it anyway, with only three legs. However,” he continued quieter, “if you wanted to try your luck without me . . .”

  “Oh no.” Annalise shook her head quickly. “It was just an idea. Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

  He smiled. “I appreciate that. Thank you.”

  Unexpectedly, the feral stench of wild beasts changed. A whiff of sweet cake wound through the courtyard of ivy and stone. “Do you smell that?” Annalise glided forward, stomach growling, pulled softly by the delicious scent.

  The fox, eyes closed and drooling, followed Annalise, nose first. “Lemon cake,” he whispered. “That’s new. How wonderfully odd.”

  The rainbow candy Muse gave her must have been making her hungrier, like he’d said it might. Annalise’s stomach rumbled as loud as a lion’s roar. “Pardon me.” She blushed. “I could eat a thousand pies and the pie-maker himself, I’m so hungry, then drink a small lake for dessert. Couldn’t you, Mister Edwards?” Stomach rumbling louder, Annalise stepped onto the round center stone carved with wolves, horns, and wings.

  Mister Edwards stood beside her, rubbed his stomach, and laughed when it gurgled and grumbled in reply. “Clearly, yes.”

  Without warning, the small courtyard began to change. The gray labyrinth walls transformed from top to bottom into bricks of polished gold quartz. The doorway through which they’d entered vainished, locking them in.

  They were trapped.

  Annalise and Mister Edwards spun in circles. They patted the walls, searching for a way free. At their touch, four elegant closed doors, one facing each direction, emerged.

  “Mercy.” Annalise sighed.

  New scents poured through every door; Mister Edwards sniffed each one.

  Directly ahead, the stench of fire and char wafted from a black door marked: The Road of Courage.

  The yellow door to their right smelled like the lemon cake and read: The Road of Power.

  Children’s laughter rang from the door behind them, The Road of Friends, splattered in colors of paint. It seemed cheerful in there.

  Even though Annalise preferred going right, and loved lemon cake, when she faced the door to their left, she knew that was the one for her.

  The spicy aroma of red ginger curry wafted through the red-painted door marked: The Road of Dreams. Rice and red ginger curry was one of Annalise’s favorite dishes—her dad’s special recipe.

  Mister Edwards had been wringing his tail and pacing before the Road of Courage when the scent hit him. “Red curry,” he said with a scratch of longing. “That’s the smell of home—Mister Amoureux’s specialty.” Mister Edwards glanced at it with a desperate hunger. “This is definitely the road we’re supposed to choose. The one I smelled earlier that connected to path three—the path that leads to the end.”

  Night wolves howled close, as if right behind the wall.

  She flinched. “Are you sure, Mister Edwards?” Annalise tapped her fingers on her thigh and studied each door one more time.

  Mister Edwards twisted his tail. “Yes. My every instinct says follow the red curry.” Black crows cawed, circling overhead. He ignored their cries. “Plus, Mister Amoureux’s scent is through the door of Dreams. Why? . . . Do you disagree?” He glanced at her big hand. “Which way seems right to you?”

  A tuft of long white fur swept the crack below the Road of Dreams.

  They turned to each other and said, “Dream cats” at once.

  Annalise nodded. “I think you’re right, Mister Edwards. The Road of Dreams is the way to go.” Her big hand zinged and pulled her forward. Annalise hoped these were good signs.

  “Excellent,” Mister Edwards said.

  Annalise’s stomach bubbled and grumped. “Then it’s settled. Come on, Mister Edwards. Let’s eat!”

  Stomachs rumbling with anticipation, Annalise and Mister Edwards side-eyed each other with famished grins as she pushed open the red door.

  Chapter 17

  A Town of Spirits

  Through the door of Dreams, on the other side of the darkness, the labyrinth was gone. No walls, no corridors, no ugly red moon. Sunlight, warm and cheerful, shone in the clear blue sky. The sweet scent of red ginger curry wafted toward them. The doorway they entered vanished behind them in a wisp of smoke.

  They stood on a cobblestone street lined with shops, customers, and vendors selling their wares. The odd little town was celebrating something—long rectangular red flags bearing a crown of silver crows and golden horns flapped from gilded posts. All the townsfolk, dressed in red and gold, had the translucent skin of ghosts. Red geraniums grew in bright clumps between stores. Annalise recognized the town crest from the book Muse gave her, lost somewhere over the maze.

  The crest belonged to the Spinner of Dreams.

  “Mister Edwards,” Annalise asked, moving swiftly forward, hair dancing in the spiced breeze. “You didn’t mention how fantastically strange this road would be.” Her stomach practically screamed in anticipation.

  Mister Edwards scanned the crowd, a growl deep in his throat, seeming less enthusiastic than he was moments before. “This place is not all that it seems.” The spirits milling the cobblestone street were combinations of various beasts, walking on hind legs. Lion-headed dogs in red suits, bird-alligators in skirts and big hats, porcupine-sloths in pajamas, and hippopotamus-humans in . . . nothing at all. “Hopefully we can free ourselves the way I did last time. Follow my lead.”

  Annalise glanced about uncertainly, clenching her agitated big hand. She nodded, looked down, and gasped, “Oh, mercy.”

  Annalise’s clothing had changed. Instead of her cloak, she wore a white-and-black pinstriped dress, knee-high white socks, and black Mary Jane shoes.

  Her stomach dropped.

  Her big hand was exposed.

  A slick scrum of panic slid through Annalise like cold black smoke. She tried to shove her cursed hand into the folds of the dress, but before she could, the horn emerged and her palm spat flames.

  The spirit-beasts stared. Annalise turned away from the crowd and patted her marked hand softly, as she used to do when she was little.

  But it did not calm.

  Stomach roaring for food and drink, adrenaline flooding through her, Annalise raised her clenched fist to her heart. “Please stop,” she told her monster.

  The horn retreated, and flames died at once.

  A strange surge of power f
illed her dark mark. A new power that felt good.

  Her cursed hand really was listening to her.

  More customers materialized into the street from out of the cobblestones. Toad-headed people, people-headed toads. Cats with black raven bodies and vice versa. Voices tumbled toward them, followed by the most succulent smells of food in the universe. Two non-spirit-beast children strolled out of a shop ahead. The ones they’d met at the start: Nightingale and Bowie Tristle.

  “Should we say hello?” Annalise asked, stroking her hair.

  Nightingale and Bowie waved, grinning from ear to ear. Annalise stepped forward, waved back—and tripped, nearly knocking Mister Edwards down.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled to Mister Edwards, cheeks ablaze. Nightingale laughed at Annalise in the distance. Not in a mean way—more like she was laughing with her. “I . . . tripped.”

  The fox raised his whiskery eyebrows and pushed down a grin. “Yes, I saw that. I definitely think we should say hello.”

  Mister Edwards and Annalise (still red with embarrassment) approached the siblings at an open-air eatery at the end of the street. As they got closer, the view opened like a veil had been lifted. Beyond the eatery, green hills rolled for miles. Past the hills, the skies faded from blue to lilac. Lilac—like in the sky over Dreamland. Maybe Dreamland and the Spinner of Dreams were just past those hills. Maybe they were getting closer?

  Wolf-headed antelope waiters in vests wound through the outdoor patio of diners, holding platters overflowing with food. The two children left their seats and met them outside the cordoned-off eatery—Nightingale smiling brightly, Bowie serious and calm. “Hey,” Nightingale said. “You made it!”

  Annalise tried to look happy rather than anxious—not easy, with a cursed hand hidden behind her, always ready to burst into flames.

  “Hi,” Annalise said, fighting her hand currently trying to break free. “So good to see you again.” Mister Edwards smiled shyly beside her.