Zac and the Dream Stealers

by Ross Mackenzie

  Julius led the children across the gangway onto the ship. Gray water lapped against the hull far below. Once on board, they headed along a gleaming deck and through the entrance.

  The interior of Sweet Dreams was as different from the hospitals of the Waking World as the exterior had been. Everything looked cheerful and colorful and warm. As they navigated through a maze of passageways — each step cushioned by a fluffy purple carpet — Zac was reminded of the luxurious hotels he’d seen in old movies. They passed waiting rooms filled with squishy sofas, bellhops carting luggage, and even a waiter carrying a mountainous ice-cream sundae.

  The air smelt of cinnamon and fresh baking, and it made Zac think that if more hospitals in the Waking World were like this one, then perhaps people wouldn’t be so afraid of them. Doctors and nurses hurried past in brightly colored uniforms, and as he passed some of the rooms, Zac couldn’t help glancing inside. Patients here suffered from the strangest conditions. One man seemed to be growing fluorescent orange carrots from his nose, and there was a woman whose acid yellow hair was growing so rapidly it filled the entire room while nurses rushed around her with scissors, trying to keep it under control.

  At last, they reached Mrs. Huggins’s room. Tom looked to his sister for support, then opened the door.

  Inside, the Knights were crowded around a four-poster bed, each looking more tired and drawn than the last. Granny hugged Zac so tightly he thought he might end up in the next room as a patient.

  “Mum!” whispered Tom and Tilly.

  They rushed to the bed where Mrs. Huggins lay quite still. Her face was cut deeply down one side and her eye was swollen purple.

  Mr. Huggins stood up quickly and embraced his children. “You can’t wake her, kids,” he said gently to Tom and Tilly. “She’s been given a sleep serum. She won’t come around for a few days.”

  “She’s going to be OK, isn’t she, Dad?” pleaded Tilly. Her eyes were streaming.

  “Come on,” said Granny to the others. “Let’s go outside and leave them.”

  Zac followed his grandmother out into the corridor, where Julius joined them. Cornelius stayed in the room with his family.

  “Granny,” whispered Zac, “what happened?”

  “She was attacked by Dream Stealers,” said Granny quietly.

  “Will she be all right?”

  “We won’t know that until she wakes up.”

  “But why Mrs. Huggins?”

  “They were after the locator compass,” said Granny. “And they took it.”

  “They tried to kill her,” said Julius. He had turned a nasty shade of green and was trembling terribly. “But she managed to stagger out into a busy street, and the attackers fled.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Zac. “How did the Dream Stealers find out about the compass? Cornelius told us that nobody other than the Knights knew anything about it.” His eyes widened as he began to understand. There was a spy in the Order! What other explanation could there be?

  “We’re still trying to figure that out, Zac,” said Julius.

  Zac felt sick. Julius! Julius had left breakfast in a suspicious rush that morning. He’d known about the compass. Had he rushed away to tell the Dream Stealers? Had Gideon been right about him? If so, then Mrs. Huggins was lying in a hospital bed because of what he’d done.

  “What’s wrong, lad?” asked Granny.

  “Nothing,” said Zac, his voice shaking. “I can’t believe what’s happened, that’s all. Where did Mrs. Huggins collect the compass from?”

  “The Guardian’s Guild,” said Julius. “It’s a maze of vaults. The doors and corridors keep changing places. If a person makes a deposit, only he or she will be able to find it again. Anyone else will only get lost. That’s why Holly had to be the one to collect the compass. She was the one who left it there for Tinn in the first place.”

  “So the Dream Stealers knew where she was going and what she was doing?”

  “That seems to be the long and short of it,” said Granny.

  Just then the door to Mrs. Huggins’s room opened and the others came out to join them.

  Tom’s and Tilly’s eyes were red and puffy, and Tom’s freckled cheeks were still glistening with tears.

  “Dad said the doctors think she’ll get better,” said Tilly quietly. “She might be a bit jumpy for a while, but hopefully it’ll pass.”

  It had been decided that Mr. Huggins was to remain at Sweet Dreams with his wife, while the children went back to The Forty Winks and stayed with Barnaby. The attack on Mrs. Huggins hadn’t changed the Knights’ minds; it had just made them more determined to find Tinn. They’d be setting out at midnight.

  As they left the hospital, Zac told Tom and Tilly what he’d learnt about the attack on their mother.

  “Julius!” spat Tom. “The troll-dung-licking git!”

  “He’s going with them on the mission tonight!” said Tilly. “He’s the one who’s arranged the airship. What if it’s a trap? What if he’s leading them into danger?”

  “We should tell them,” said Tom. “We have to —”

  “Nobody will believe us,” said Zac. “Anyway, there’s no actual proof that he’s done anything wrong.”

  “Well, we have to do something!” said Tilly.

  “Wait a minute,” said Tom. “Zac, last night you had a dream that we’d meet a monster and kill it with a silver dagger, and it came true, right?”

  “And?” said Tilly.

  “Well, what if Zac could go to sleep and dream about what’s going to happen next?” He looked at Zac, his face full of hope.

  Zac’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, I don’t think that’s how it works,” he said. “People can’t choose what they dream about before they go to sleep. I didn’t choose to have the dream with the werewolf, although I had been reading about them.”

  “But you can try, can’t you?” said Tilly, clasping her hands together.

  “Perhaps if I think about Dream Stealers just before I go to sleep . . . ,” said Zac. “But don’t expect it to work. Last time was just a coincidence.”

  “You’re a star!” said Tilly, and she hugged him tightly. Zac felt as though his face was on fire.

  “Look,” he said, breaking free, “whether your crazy dream idea works or not, we still need another plan.”

  “I’m going with them,” said Tom.

  “What?”

  “Tonight. When Grandad and the others leave, I’m going, too.”

  “Tom,” said Tilly, “there’s no way Grandad’ll let you —”

  “I don’t care,” said Tom matter-of-factly. “I’ll stow away. You saw what the Dream Stealers did to Mum, Tilly. You saw her lying there, helpless. I’m going. I’ll be on that airship.”

  “Grandad will go bonkers,” Tilly said, putting her head in her hands for a minute.

  Then she looked up at him determinedly. “Well, if you’re going, so am I.”

  “OK,” said Tom. “I just know we can help, sis. It doesn’t matter how old we are, or how small.”

  “What did you say?” said Zac.

  “What?” said Tom, looking puzzled.

  “What did you just say?”

  Tom gave his sister a funny look. “I — I said it doesn’t matter how old or small we are.”

  “That’s it!” said Zac excitedly.

  “That’s what?” said Tilly, raising an eyebrow.

  “I’ve figured out a way for us to go along without anyone noticing.”

  “Whoa!” said Tom. “What do you mean by ‘us’?”

  “You’re not going without me,” answered Zac.

  “Zac,” said Tilly quietly, “it’ll be dangerous.”

  Zac folded his arms. “We’re in this together,” he said.

  Finally
, Tom took a deep breath. “OK, you’re in. Let’s hear the plan.”

  Zac paused. “Remember those potions in Aris Tinn’s laboratory? I think we could put them to use . . .”

  That night, Zac lay awake, his head buzzing. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t control what he dreamed about. It was impossible. And the more he thought about it, the less he felt he’d be able to sleep at all. He glanced over at Tom’s bed. Tom was breathing deeply, but Zac knew he was only pretending, that he was lying awake, too, hoping Zac would be able to dream up something on Julius and the Dream Stealers. Zac began to panic at the thought of letting his friends down. He squeezed his eyes tightly, willing his brain to switch off.

  Please, let me sleep, he thought. Even just for a few minutes.

  It was no use.

  He watched the flickering night-light and wished he knew how to do magic like everyone else here.

  Tom snorted. He was still pretending to sleep. But it reminded Zac that he was the only person in the entire world of Nocturne who could dream. That had to mean something. Perhaps he was special? He thought about his grandmother and how she had always believed in him. She had always been there. Whatever lay ahead, he promised himself, he would find a way to protect her. Comforted, he found his eyes were growing heavy and his chin was sinking onto his chest. He slept . . .

  Zac found himself in a shabby corridor. A flash of light half blinded him, and something slammed into the wall above his head. A scream pierced the darkness. Crouching low, he ran the length of the passage, flinching as more flashes blazed through the gloom. He reached a doorway. The door had been ripped from its hinges. He rushed into the room and saw something or someone standing over a crumpled heap. The heap stirred, and Zac saw a familiar wrinkled hand reaching up for help.

  Granny! She was in terrible danger.

  “The kitchen’s just ahead,” whispered Tinn over his shoulder. “I can hear them working.”

  “Oh, good,” replied Noelle, and she picked something green and slimy from her hair. They’d been covered in falling slop four times on their way up the chute.

  A faint glow was visible above them, and they soon reached the top of the chute, which was sunk into the floor of the vast, steam-filled kitchen. In every corner, kitchen hands were working feverishly, preparing all sorts of delicious-looking food.

  “The Dream Stealers certainly know how to eat well,” said Tinn, eyeing a wild boar on a spit. There were rows and rows of black stoves, and on each one sat bubbling pots and pans.

  “There must be a hundred pots,” said Tinn. “How many Dream Stealers are in this place?”

  “Hard to say,” replied Noelle in a whisper. “It changes all the time. Most come and go. You’ve got a bit of spinach in your beard, by the way.”

  Tinn felt around his chin and removed a soggy leaf.

  “How do we get through the kitchens without ’em seein’ you?” asked Noelle. “I mean, I can do it easy. I’ve done it a thousand times. But what about you?”

  Tinn quickly peeked out of the chute. “What we need,” he said, stroking his beard, “is a diversion.”

  “What kind?” asked Noelle. “Look out!”

  She tugged him back below floor level in the nick of time.

  A pair of worn black boots stomped over to the chute.

  Noelle held her breath, and just as well, because the Dream Stealer tipped the contents of his bucket into the chute, dunking Tinn and Noelle in the stickiest, smelliest swill yet.

  Tinn spat out a moldy lump of bread. “This is growing tiresome,” he said. “Time to go, I think.”

  Once again he reached into his beard, and this time produced a tiny paper package. He unwrapped it. In the crease were dozens of teeny black balls. Noelle thought they looked like miniature peppercorns.

  “What are those?”

  “These are our diversionary tactic,” said Tinn with a smile. “Have you ever seen fireworks?”

  “No.”

  “Ah. Well, these were purchased from Pontius Pullerwick, the finest firework-maker in all of Slumber City. Watch this.”

  He held the fold of paper up to his mouth and looked Noelle dead in the eye.

  “When I say go, we go.”

  He took a deep breath and gently blew. The tiny balls scattered through the kitchen, whining like a cloud of mosquitoes. In just a few moments they had dropped into every pot in the room, and the Dream Stealer chefs were unwittingly stirring them in.

  “Get ready,” whispered Tinn.

  Noelle made herself invisible, preparing to run.

  Then it happened.

  Fizzing light exploded from every pot in the kitchen in a shower of steaming grub.

  It was chaos. The kitchen hands were screaming. Some were covered in food, while others ran around with pails of water in an attempt to extinguish the light show.

  “Go!” said Tinn.

  He and Noelle scampered from the chute across the kitchen, keeping low and darting from stove to stove until they reached a heavy door on the opposite side of the room. Tinn pointed at the door and it swung open.

  Then he froze.

  In the doorway stood a guard who’d rushed to see what all the fuss was about. Behind his skull mask, the Dream Stealer’s eyes gleamed. But before he could raise the alarm, a huge metal frying pan flew off the wall of the kitchen and landed on his head with a clang. The Dream Stealer crumpled. Tinn leapt over his body and out into the corridor, slamming the door on the bedlam behind.

  The air fluttered. Noelle became visible and strolled up to Tinn, swinging the frying pan like a tennis racket.

  “No need to thank me,” she said smugly.

  “Good work,” he said, grinning.

  She skipped with pride behind the old man as he led her out into a hexagonal chamber. Six silver doors stood glinting before them.

  “Which one?” said Noelle.

  “Let’s ask the compass.” He held out the shining device. “Which door will lead us to the goblin passage?” he asked.

  The dial whizzed around. When it stopped, it pointed at a door to the left.

  “We have our answer,” said Tinn.

  “Then let’s go,” she said, wondering where it would lead them next.

  Tinn paused. “Noelle,” he said, “I must warn you; the next stage won’t be an easy one. I cannot guess what we will encounter along the way.”

  “Mr. Tinn,” Noelle said, “I’ve lived in this stink hole for almost my entire life. It’s gonna take more than a few goblins to stop me. I’ll walk to the center of the world if there’s a way out on the other side.”

  “I did it! I had another dream,” said Zac, jumping out of bed in his urgency to get dressed.

  “I told you, didn’t I?” said Tom, impressed both by Zac’s talent and the genius of his own idea. “Well? What did you see?”

  Zac felt his heart beat as he told Tom about the dream. He described the dingy corridor, the helpless heap on the floor. “It was just a snapshot,” he gasped. “But the one thing I feel for certain is that Granny and maybe the others are in terrible danger.” He glanced at the windup clock on Tom’s desk. It was almost midnight. “Time to go,” he said.

  Tom, who’d been watching him carefully, folded his arms. “Are you sure about this, Zac?” he said. “You don’t have to come, you know. Tilly and I can go. This is our world, our fight.”

  “If Granny is in trouble, it’s my fight, too,” said Zac. “And she’s told me what’ll happen to the Waking World if the Dream Stealers win — all that pain and suffering because people can’t sleep. I’m not going to stand back and let Julius lead her into a trap. You’re fighting for your mum and your family. Well, Granny’s all I’ve got.”

  “You don’t have a mum?” said Tom.

  Zac pulled the traveling clo
ak he’d bought at Fontooly’s more closely around him.

  “She died when I was born. I guess my dad didn’t fancy looking after me on his own, because he dumped me with his mum — Granny Wonder — when I was just a baby. That was eleven years ago, and she’s looked after me ever since. That’s why I have to come with you. I owe it to Granny. I need to know she’ll be all right.”

  There was another reason Zac was determined to stay with Tom and Tilly. He felt a connection to this strange, wonderful place, a bond he couldn’t quite describe.

  “You’re right,” Tom said, “you should come along. I was just trying to help.”

  “I know,” said Zac. “Thanks. But you’re forgetting something else — this plan was my idea. I’m not letting you and Tilly take all the credit!”

  Tom grinned. “Hey, it hasn’t worked yet,” he said. “And don’t forget to bring that . . .” He pointed to the blade on the bed. The sapphires seemed to glow.

  “All right,” said Zac, slipping the blade into his cloak, “but I hope I don’t have to use it.”

  They crept out into the grand corridor, where they distantly heard Granny and the others preparing for their mission. When they reached the entrance to the abandoned passageway, Tom jammed a piece of parchment under one of the doors to keep it open a fraction.

  Tilly was already waiting by Aris Tinn’s laboratory. Tom told her excitedly about Zac’s latest dream and how he thought the Knights were definitely heading into danger. Tilly let out a horrified squeak and unlocked the door at once.

  Minutes later, they were examining bottles, jars, and tubes on the shelves of the secret room.

  “Look for a bottle of bright red pills and some blue stuff — and stay away from that thing this time,” said Zac, glaring at the trunk of dream orbs.

  “Good plan,” said Tilly. “Hang on, I think I’ve found them already.” She grabbed two small bottles from a shelf and read the little white labels: “SALAMANDER AND SNAIL — SUPER FOR SHRINKING and GULLS’ BEAK AND GREMLIN GUNGE — GOOD FOR GROWTH.”

  “Those are the ones!” Zac said.