“What are those?” said Tom excitedly.
“Coins,” replied Zac. He held out his hand. “Here,” he said. “Now you can say you’ve got something from the Waking World.”
Tilly and Tom slowly took the coins from Zac’s hand.
“Thanks,” said Tom.
“What are they used for?” asked Tilly.
“Coins are money,” said Zac. “If you want to buy something from someone, you give them some of these and they give you something in return.”
“We know what money is,” Tom said with a laugh.
“Yeah,” added Tilly. “But it’s a bit strange that people should use lumps of metal. We use teeth.”
“Teeth?”
“Yeah, look,” said Tilly. She pulled a little leather pouch from her pocket and opened it to reveal a pile of teeth. “These were collected by the tooth fairy from under the pillows of sleeping children in the Waking World. That’s what we use as money here.”
Zac almost choked.
“They’ve been cleaned, you know,” she added, noticing his disgusted expression.
“Did you . . . did you say the tooth fairy?” Zac stammered.
“Yeah,” said Tom, still examining his coin. “Surely you’ve heard of her?”
“Of course I have,” said Zac. “It’s just that she’s make-believe.”
“Make-believe?” said Tom.
“Yeah,” muttered Zac. “I mean, most children my age think the tooth fairy is a story for babies.”
Tom stared at Zac for a second and then looked at his sister. “Completely bonkers,” he said, pointing to his head. “Hey, you want us to show you around?”
“I’m supposed to stay here,” said Zac.
“Not now! Later, when everyone’s asleep.”
“We know HQ inside out,” added Tilly.
Zac only thought about it for a second. This place did seem pretty cool. And he’d just met two kids who didn’t think he was a freak. He wasn’t going to blow it now.
“OK,” he said. “If you’re sure.”
“Only, don’t tell anyone,” warned Tom. “We’re not supposed to. There’s all sorts of weird stuff lying around. An old shoe attacked me last week . . .”
At that moment, Granny and the others reappeared.
Tom nudged Zac in the ribs. “Remember,” he whispered, “don’t say anything.”
“Right,” said Zac, wondering what sort of surprises lay ahead.
The dining room of the Knights’ headquarters was oval with a polished floor and a round table, on which places had been set for everyone.
Here, Zac was introduced to Tilly and Tom’s parents, Humphrey and Holly Huggins, who ran HQ.
“How do you do!” Humphrey beamed as he shook hands with Granny and Zac. “Such a pleasure!”
He was a neat man, tall and lean with sleek, jet-black hair, piercing blue eyes, and a pencil mustache. He didn’t so much talk as fire words like a machine gun.
“So pleased to meet you, dears,” said Holly Huggins. She was short and plump with curly blond hair and a round face. Her voice was gentle. “Please do make yourselves at home.”
Mr. and Mrs. Huggins had prepared a feast. Zac’s mouth watered. There was hot broth, crusty bread spread thickly with golden butter, cheese, fat sausages, and a large cauldron of melted chocolate in which they could dip fresh fruit and giant marshmallows.
Zac ate until he could barely move.
“Hey, Zac,” said Tom through a mouthful of sausage, “tell us about the Waking World. What’s it like?”
“Yeah,” said Tilly. “Is it anything like here?”
“A little, I suppose,” said Zac, tugging nervously at the belt of his robe. It felt strange to be the center of attention. “It’s actually a bit dull compared to what I’ve seen of Nocturne so far. In the Waking World, things just do what they’re supposed to. There aren’t any dragons, or floating buses, or magical rowboats . . .”
Tom looked disappointed.
“No magic?” asked Tilly
“It’s a different sort of magic,” said Zac. “Like television.”
“Telewhat?” said Tom, furrowing his eyebrows.
“Television. It’s a little box that shows moving picture stories. Watching television is how most people in the Waking World spend their spare time.”
“What, they just stare at it?”
“I heard about one of those!” said Tilly. “A merchant is supposed to have found one in the Dream Plains. He brought it out and switched it on and sure enough, there were the moving pictures. It was fine for a while, but then one night, he got sucked in! He was trapped. Then the telly-viser thingy went mad. It ran around, sucking people into different stories. It took twenty people to capture it. They tried and tried, but they never could get those people back out.”
“That’s terrible!” said Zac. “But in the Waking World, televisions never go around sucking people in. Not in that way. They just sort of sit there.”
“Why bother to have one, then?” said Tom.
“Zac,” said Granny over the chatter, “Holly has volunteered to take you up to the city tomorrow to get you some new clothes. Isn’t that kind?”
Zac looked down at his pajamas. He nodded with relief at Mrs. Huggins. “Thanks,” he said.
“No trouble, dear,” she answered cheerily. “I need to collect something anyway.” She glanced carefully at the other Knights.
“Can we come, too, Mum?” asked Tom.
“Yeah,” pleaded Tilly. “Can we? Please?”
Mrs. Huggins rolled her eyes. “All right,” she sighed to her children. “But no fighting and no sneaking off, understand?”
“Yes, Mum,” they chimed.
“What will you be doing, Granny?” asked Zac, dipping another marshmallow.
“Well, lad,” said Granny, “I’ll be preparing with the others.”
“For what?”
“The search to find Rumpous Tinn.”
“Can’t I go with you?” he asked.
“Yeah!” cried Tom. “Me, too!”
“And me!” said Tilly.
“This is no job for children,” Cornelius concluded firmly.
“Right,” said Mrs. Huggins, before they could argue further. “Come on, bedtime. Zac, you can share with Tom. I’ve already prepared a bed.”
“Nice one!” said Tom. “Come on, Zac, I’ll show you my room.”
They said good night to the others, and Zac followed Tom down the gaudy red and gold corridor, wondering what on earth a bedroom in Nocturne might look like.
“Do you actually live in this place, then?” he said.
“Not usually,” said Tom. “We have a house above The Forty Winks. Knights usually have a home somewhere outside HQ. Mum and Dad own the pub. It’s been passed down on my mum’s side for generations. Her family have always been sort of honorary Knights. That’s how she met my dad. Grandad brought him to the pub and they fell in love. Disgusting, really. Here we are.”
Tom’s room was wide and spacious, although just about every inch of the floor was covered in clothes, books, and colorful parchments. The walls were plastered with posters depicting fantastic creatures.
“That’s yours,” said Tom, pointing to a comfortable-looking bed in the corner.
“This is great,” said Zac. He leapt onto the bed, sinking into the fluffy duvet.
Tom jumped onto his bed, too. “Just wait until you see the rest of this place,” he said, waving his arms, but shut up as Mrs. Huggins popped her head around the door.
“Get to bed now, boys! We’re up early tomorrow. And don’t stand on that mattress, Thomas. I’ve told you before. Good night, Zac.” She left the door open just enough for a little torchlight to dance into the room.
“We’ll have a couple of hours’ sleep,” said Tom as they climbed into bed. “Then we’ll get up and meet Tilly, and we can show you around.”
“All right,” said Zac, yawning. “See you in a bit.”
Within seconds, Tom was snoring loudly, while Zac tossed and turned. Eventually, he got out of bed and began browsing through the books and papers on the floor. A parchment magazine called Myth and Magic caught his attention. He picked it up and stared at the cover. A menacing face with huge teeth sneered at him. Zac read the headline:
Zac flipped through the pages. The magazine was crammed full of illustrated articles about the most terrible monsters in Nocturne: goblins, ghouls, mountain trolls, chimeras, and many others. It seemed that most of these monsters had walked straight out of the dreams — or nightmares — of Wakelings, and set up home in dark corners of Nocturne.
“Just a bit of light reading, eh, Tom?” he murmured to himself.
He flipped another page and saw the foul creature from the front cover, then began to read:
The werewolf is one of the most feared monsters in all of Nocturne. Werewolves are known for their ability to blend in among humans, and for their lust for blood. A werewolf will always play with its food. A common misconception is that werewolves only transform during a full moon. This is untrue. They can transform at any time they wish. In Myth and Magic’s “Most Terrifying Ways to Die” poll last year, Werewolf Attack finished third — behind only Vampire Bite and Dream Stealer Assault.
Danger Level: extreme
Size: huge in werewolf form
Speed: don’t even try to run
Weaponry: teeth, strength, guile . . . pretty much everything
Best Defense: silver
Likely Outcome: death — or, if you’re lucky, transformation into a werewolf
A door slammed in the corridor. Zac jumped. He stared out into the passageway through the tiny gap in the open door. Nobody seemed to be there. He laughed at himself for feeling startled in a place as safe as the HQ of the Knights of Nod. His eyelids were beginning to feel heavy, and he suddenly realized how exhausted he was. He tossed Myth and Magic back on the floor, then climbed into bed and drifted off to sleep with images of monsters swimming in his head.
Tinn paced his cell stroking his beard, the cogs in his brain whizzing and clicking at full speed.
A swooshing sound broke his concentration, and he stopped dead.
“Noelle? Is that you?”
The air fluttered. Noelle appeared before him, smiling.
“I got it,” she said, dangling a large rusty key.
“Bravo, dear girl,” said Tinn. “And how does it look out there?”
“The corridor outside is guarded,” Noelle said. “But the rest of the place seems quiet. It’s nighttime. Most of the Dream Stealers who were here have gone to plunder the Dream Plains.”
“What about guards?”
“Five Dream Stealers,” replied Noelle.
“That’s not so bad,” said Tinn, with the hint of a smile. He stood up and stretched like an athlete.
“And one mountain troll,” added Noelle quickly.
Tinn froze mid-stretch and raised an eyebrow. “Mountain troll, you say?” He rubbed his head and sighed. “Oh, good.”
Noelle bit her bottom lip.
“Well, we may as well get this over with,” said Tinn. “You know what to do?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She was about to become invisible when Tinn put a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“After you have opened the door, your job is over. Do you understand?”
She nodded.
“There will be no heroics,” he insisted. “You will stay hidden. Agreed?”
Noelle shrugged. “I swear,” she said. And with that she disappeared.
Tinn crept over to the door and pressed his ear against the cold silver surface. After a few seconds there was a faint click. He smiled and waved his hand. The heavy door swung open in silence. That part was easy.
The corridor beyond his cell was narrow and starkly lit, with a jagged rock ceiling. Tinn stood at the entrance for a moment, his eyes closed. He breathed deeply, gathering his magic. Then he filled his lungs, pushed up the sleeves of his robe, and walked forward.
The hard part was about to begin.
Rumpous Tinn’s heart thundered in his ancient ears as he strode from his cell into the corridor.
A Dream Stealer was stationed across the passageway, standing to attention in his silver skull mask, his bone armor glinting. Then he spotted Tinn and his crossed arms dropped.
“He’s escaped! He’s out!” he yelled.
Instantly another two guards came running, shooting inky jets of foul dark magic from their outstretched arms. Tinn waved his hand, dispersing the jets, then stamped hard on the floor. The stone cracked, and a shockwave ripped through the air, throwing the guards across the corridor, where they fell limply to the ground.
“Look out!”
Noelle’s cry came too late. Tinn was hit in the back with such force that he was thrown half the length of the passageway. He got up and wheeled around. Two more guards faced him, and behind them stood a monstrous mountain troll. As the troll roared, the two remaining Dream Stealers charged.
Tinn leapt into the air, flipping over the guards and shooting a spell at the troll’s head. Before it reached the creature, the spell split in two and became a pair of tiny, colorful birds. They swooped and swirled in the air, distracting the flailing monster.
As the birds faded, Tinn fired another spell at the sidetracked guards, encasing them in a huge block of ice.
A deafening roar filled the hallway. He had the troll’s attention again.
As Tinn spun he saw Noelle had made herself visible. She was bravely trying to draw the troll away from him.
“Noelle!” cried Tinn. “I warned you to stay clear!”
At that moment the furious troll grabbed the girl and hurled her across the corridor like a doll. She lay motionless on the dirty floor.
Tinn dropped to his knees, gasping for breath. He knew he didn’t have much time. As fast as he could, he sent out thousands of twisting threads that wound around the troll’s huge body. In an instant it was bound tight. It struggled for a moment, then fell with a crash that shook the corridor.
Exhausted, Tinn stumbled over to Noelle’s unconscious body. He knelt beside her and felt for a pulse.
“Thank the stars,” he muttered.
A crack from the block of ice told him the Dream Stealers would soon be free. He scooped the girl off the floor, heaved her over his shoulder, and made for the staircase.
Zac stood in a freezing black fog, shivering and afraid. He didn’t have a clue where he was. He could barely see his hand in front of his face.
“Granny?” he said. “Tom? Hello?”
There was no reply.
He was suddenly aware of something in his palm. The blackness cleared a little and he was startled to realize that he was clutching a dagger with a sapphire-encrusted handle.
Footsteps came from nowhere. They were heavy, but whatever they belonged to was traveling at great speed. There was a growling gust of wind, and a monster tore out of the fog toward him.
Zac screamed and fell backward, clutching the dagger. The creature swooped. In that second, Zac held out the blade. There was a howl of pain, a flash, and the air was filled with smoldering ash. Just as suddenly as it had arrived, the creature was gone.
Zac stood up, his heart pumping. The darkness seemed to be closing in.
“Help!”
“Zac?”
“Help me!”
“Zac! Wake up!”
“Wha —?”
“Wake up!”
>
He was back in Tom’s room, and Tom was standing over him, looking rather scared.
“Are you all right?” he said. “You were shouting and thrashing around.”
“Oh . . . it was nothing . . . just a dream . . .”
“A dream?” said Tom, his eyes wide. “You had a dream?”
“Yeah. So?”
“People here don’t dream, Zac.”
“What?”
“People in Nocturne,” said Tom. “We don’t dream. We never have.” He looked at Zac enviously. “What’s it like to dream?”
“I dunno,” Zac said. “It’s just like real life, only anything can happen.”
“What, anything?”
“Seems that way. You’ve really never had a dream, ever?”
Tom shook his head. “What did you dream about just then?” he said. “Was it a bad dream?”
The image of the creature flying toward him flashed in Zac’s mind. He didn’t want to think about it.
“I can’t remember,” he said, feeling a little guilty about lying. “Dreams sometimes leave you as soon as you wake up. They disappear like smoke. It happens all the time.”
“Oh, right,” said Tom, disappointed. “We’d better go. Tilly will be waiting.”
Zac half climbed and half fell out of bed. Yawning widely, he threw on his robe and slippers, and followed Tom to the door. Tom peeked out into the corridor.
“All clear,” he said, “Come on.”
The dazzling colors of the grand corridor had been replaced by a ghostly blue glow. Zac shivered. They tiptoed along the passage until they reached a set of double doors.
“Tilly said she’d meet us here,” said Tom. “She won’t be long, she’s never late.”
As they waited, Zac’s eyes were drawn to the portraits that hung on the walls in majestic golden frames. The people in the paintings stared down at them, almost as if they knew that they were up to no good.
Suddenly there was an icy-cold hand on the back of his neck. He yelped.
It was Tilly. She giggled at the look of fright on his face. Tom was trying his best not to laugh. Zac was glad the corridor was dark, because he felt himself turning a magnificent shade of red.
Zac and the Dream Stealers Page 5
