“All right, mister,” Shana said, hands on her hips, smiling at the Nightmare-Child, a defiant gleam in her eyes. “It’s time for us to win your game.”
“What did you do?” the boy asked, shrinking away from a growling Altair, tensed to pounce. “The book… what did you see?”
Shana’s smile widened. “Not telling.” She took a deep breath, then let it out, finding herself more confident and steady than ever before. And she could feel the Eternal Flame within her, a warmth and light that she was still getting used to.
She was lighting the way. A beacon, drawing Shana towards Heart — and Princess Garnet. In this vast, empty house that she’d only barely explored, she knew exactly where the two prisoners were.
“You…” the boy said, his expression a mixture of anger and fear. He shuddered, then vanished with an audible pop! His voice giggled in the dark. “Good luck, Shana. But I don’t like your chances.”
“Come on,” Shana said, gladly embracing Altair as he leapt into her arms. “I know where Heart is. Annabelle and Garnet, too.”
“Okay, hold up, what just happened?” Ben asked. “You, like, totally changed in a couple of seconds.”
“Oh, yeah, the book took me into a book world where time was stopped, and helped me figure out what to do,” Shana said. “Don’t worry. I know what’s going on, now. And that little boy doesn’t stand a chance against us.”
“Already knew that,” Kathryn said with a grin.
“You okay?” Shias asked, rushing to Shana’s side.
“Yup,” Shana said with a nod. “Thanks for worrying about me, though.”
“You really know where the others are?” Rae asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Shana said. “Come on. Let’s end this game.”
She led the way out from the study and back into the playroom, where she let Altair down to prowl around, keeping a wary eye out for the boy. But Altair wasn’t as tense as before. He could feel what Shana felt, was filled with the new knowledge Shana had obtained, and understood their mission now.
Meanwhile, Shana shared what she’d learned with the rest of her team, and her thoughts on the matter.
The Nightmare-Child wasn’t an enemy. He was a little boy who needed help.
That was still a bit complicated for Shana to wrap her head around. Because while the boy needed her help, he was also a fragment of the heart of the greatest villain in the entire universe.
The Lord of Night. Alexander Salazar Greyson.
Just like Leon, he started out as any other boy. The things he went through, the pain and struggles he experienced, the powers he gained… they shaped him.
And he made choices. Choices that defined him. Choices that took him down a dark path.
Is that… is that my mission? I thought we were working on defeating Sal, like… destroying him. But is it more like Leon? Do I just need to wake him up, to turn him back from this dark path?
Knowing the true origin and identity of the Nightmare-Child complicated everything. The Lord of Night being some long-lost Greyson from the distant past hadn’t had as much of an effect on her as it had on her siblings — but then, she and Shias still hadn’t met the man or really been victim to his schemes. He’d come to attack the Woven Nest when she’d been there with Caleb, but she still hadn’t met Sal then — it had been all Caleb. Sal had felt like such a distant, conceptual threat rather than a real, tangible foe…
Until now. Now he didn’t feel like a villain at all. Shana could only see the fractured heart, the frightened child, the Nightmare that needed purifying.
“At least, that’s how I feel about it,” Shana said.
“It sure is complicated,” Ben said. “But, well…” He shook his head. “No. Let’s not get carried away talking about it until we save everyone — including the kid. Sal. Whoever he is.”
“Why hold off talking about it until then?” Kathryn asked. “Let’s just strategize and plan now.”
“He can hear everything we say, can’t he?” Ben asked. “The more he knows about what we want to do, the more he’ll be able to counter our efforts. At least, that’s what I think.”
“Makes sense,” Shana said. “I just needed us all to be on the same page. Or, at least, to know what I know, and how I feel about it.”
“I’m with you,” Kathryn said, holding up a fist. Shana bumped her knuckles against Kathryn’s, smiling gratefully.
“We’re all with you,” Rae said. “Right?” Shias and Ben nodded without a hint of hesitation. Shana led the way out from the playroom into the hall of many doors that Ben had noticed before and so yearned to go down.
“Which door are we going through?” Ben asked, running his hands along the wall in this hall of many doors. He clearly wanted to try every single door, and was making an effort to hold himself back.
“Fifth on the right,” Shana said, full of confidence thanks to the Eternal Flame’s bright guidance in her heart. She reached the door and tried the handle.
It rattled, but didn’t turn. The door was locked.
Shana narrowed her eyes. “So that’s how you want to play it, huh?” She turned to the Dawn Riders, smiling confidently. “Garnet’s in here. The main door is locked, so we’ll have to find a different way in. Let’s get to it!” She knelt down to Altair, who stood on his hind legs, planting his front paws on her knee and giving her face a cheerful lick. “I’m counting on your nose to sniff out the right path. Go for it, Altair!”
Altair barked once and set off, nose to the floor, sniffing his way further down the hall. Shias doubled back the way they’d come with Ben and Rae, checking doors one by one. Kathryn stuck with Shana, and they followed Altair.
“Don’t let anyone out of sight!” Kathryn called back to the other three. “Benjamin knows the first rule of horror.”
“Don’t split up!” Ben said, flashing a thumbs-up back at her.
Altair reached the end of the hall and slipped around the corner, continuing on. Shana and Kathryn waited there, watching the little blue dog from where they could also still see Shias, Ben, and Rae.
“You’re fired up,” Kathryn said, grinning.
“Of course I am,” Shana said. “I’m doing exactly what I should be doing — dealing with Nightmares. And this time we’ve got a boy who really needs our help.”
“Kinda figured it was something like that. You were so excited about dealing with Nightmyrn and comforting the kids at Grimoire, I know it’s been frustrating for you to leave that mission behind when we’d only been at it for a couple of nights.”
Shana nodded. “I know exactly what I’m doing whenever I’m able to go back to Grimoire again. Probably not until we beat Sal and stop the Endless Night, but… I’m starting to realize that’s not the end of things.”
“He’s the big bad villain, but he’s not the one who made the Darkness, and it won’t disappear when he’s beaten,” Kathryn said. “And people will always have Nightmares. Good thing we have the best Dreamer ever ready to help them.”
“This door’s open!” Ben said, finding a door halfway down the hall. Meanwhile, Altair had found a different door around the corner that seemed to point the right way.
“Check without entering — does it have any other paths inside?” Shana asked.
Shias peered inside, coming back with a nod. “There’s one door from this room. Not sure where it might lead.”
“We’re not just gonna leave an open door behind, are we?” Ben asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “We should check everything.”
“You’re exactly right. Come on, Altair!” Shana said, and Altair came dashing back to her. “We’ll see what they found, and then check out what you found, okay? Even if you found the right one, we want to be thorough, here.”
Through the door that Ben had discovered was a spacious bedroom with a huge, curtained canopy bed in the center. Three separate chests of drawers were against the walls, their drawers open, clothes hanging over the edges and strewn about the floor. The strangest element of this room was that, hanging from the canopy bed’s “ceiling,” was a cutesy mobile like you might see over a baby’s crib, with stars and crescent moons.
Altair sniffed all around, while Shana tried the other door. Its doorknob rattled, but wouldn’t turn.
“So it was pointless,” Ben said with a sigh.
“This room’s unlocked, so it’s not pointless,” Shana said, gesturing around at the bedroom. “Come on, let’s investigate!”
“Rae and I will look through the clothes,” Kathryn said. “Looks like they’re lady clothes, so keep away, boys.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Ben said, crouching down to look under the bed. “Hey, there’s a box under here.”
He slid out the box, and Shana and Shias gathered around it while Kathryn and Rae rifled through piles and drawers of clothing. The box was a simple cardboard box with a lid, and when Ben lifted the lid, the contents were revealed to be a framed photograph on top of a thin book with a faded cover. Shana picked up the photograph, noticing that two spots on the frame — where her thumbs naturally sat when she held the photo with both hands — were worn, but otherwise the frame and photo within were in pristine condition. The photo showed the boy, the Nightmare Child, only he had the silver-blue spiral in his right eye. And with the boy was a woman, no doubt his mother. She was tall and slender, with a startlingly beautiful face, high cheekbones, and eyes that shone with a dazzling array of colors.
She’s an Enchanted.
Mother and son were smiling, the mother with a serene joy, the boy with a cheerful grin. Behind them were several rows of seats, and then a stage, on which performers in eclectic, colorful outfits were taking a bow.
It was a picture that lightened Shana’s heart and also left her with a sense of melancholy, because she knew that Sal’s mother had died in the Radiance’s war on Sunset Square.
Shias had a different take on the photo. “It looks like it was taken on a modern camera,” he said. “But this place, this house, all of this… it couldn’t have. Cameras were barely even invented yet. This should be grainy and colorless.”
“Is he a time-traveler?” Ben asked.
“No,” Shana said, understanding what this was. “This isn’t a real photo. Just like this house isn’t his real house, just inspired by his childhood home. This photograph is a memory, captured just as vividly as it is in his mind.”
“Oh, right, we’re in Dreamworld,” Ben said. “Or, no, in-between Dreams and Waking. So it’s not… well, it’s real, but not ‘real.’ Right?”
“Yeah, it’s complicated,” Shana said with a laugh. “But it is easy to forget where we are in a room like this.” She looked around, taking in the dark bedroom, the scattered and strewn clothes that Kathryn and Rae were looking through, the canopy bed all made up for one, the mobile hanging down over it…
It felt like she was awake. It wasn’t obviously a Dream or a Nightmare, it didn’t have the surreal elements that this Nightmare “game” had begun with. It felt so real that it was easy to believe that everything in this house was a real item brought from the Waking World, rather than constructs of the boy’s imagination and memories.
“Ben,” Shana said, moving from the picture to the book in the box. “This room is really important. Thanks for finding it.”
“Hey, I was just… checking every door, you know,” Ben said, rubbing the back of his neck, staring at the floor. “Felt wrong to just walk past doors without trying them.” Altair trotted over to him and nosed his knee, and Ben petted him. “Sorry for raining on your parade, little guy. We’ll get to the door you found soon, though.”
“And this was exactly where we needed to be,” Shana said, beaming. “So you have nothing to apologize for.” She peered at the book’s cover, but couldn’t make out its title. It really was thin, probably less than one hundred pages, but it used large paper, about the same size of a regular notebook. Opening it up, the first page read:
“The Triumph of Harold Welles”
A play by Gerald Mortimer
“A play?” Shana asked. “Makes sense, since the photo shows them in a theater. But I’ve never heard of this one.”
“It would have been shown hundreds of years ago,” Shias said. “Not everything from that long ago keeps being performed today. I’ve never heard of this Gerald Mortimer, either.”
“It meant a lot to the boy and his mother.” Shana flipped through the pages, seeing all sorts of notes written throughout the play’s script in a child’s handwriting. “And it seems like my kind of story. I’ll need to look this up in the library when we get home.”
“So he loved his mom and loved this play,” Ben said. “What does that do for us?”
“It shows us more of who he really is underneath all the fear and wickedness,” Shana said. “And… it raises questions.”
Shias nodded. “There’s no sign of a father, or even a father’s influence.” He stood, looking at the bed, and around at the rest of the room. “This place is completely done up for a woman. The mobile is a question mark, but otherwise, this must have been his mother’s room. His mother’s. Not his parents’. His parents… maybe they were estranged. Maybe they were just… distant. I don’t know. It’s hard to wrap my head around.”
“Yeah, we all have stable homes, and committed parents,” Ben said, petting Altair, who rolled over, happily accepting tummy rubs. “I mean, I have mixed feelings about my parents, but they sure don’t have mixed feelings about each other. I… can’t even imagine what it would be like, having my parents sleep in different beds, in different rooms.”
“It would be the beginning of the end, probably,” Kathryn said, closing a drawer and moving to the next one above it. She’d rifled through and then replaced three drawers’ worth of clothes so far. “And I don’t even want to think about living with my parents split up. Forget it. I know a few kids with divorced parents and they act like everything’s fine, but I so don’t buy it.” She paused to let out a frustrated sigh. “Anyway. Focusing on the present. Rae, you find anything?”
“Not yet,” Rae said, closing the drawer she’d been working on. She was much more methodical than Kathryn, having only completed two to Kathryn’s three-almost-four. “But it feels like someone was looking for something here. Like they were desperate to find it.”
Kathryn nodded. “All the clothes were tossed out and moved around in a hurry. But I get the feeling they didn’t find whatever it was they wanted to.” She finished her fourth drawer, closing it with a frustrated sigh and moving on to the small closet beside it.
“So he likes theater,” Ben said. “And he loves his mom. And his parents were… well, we don’t know what, but they weren’t getting along.” He looked up at the bed, particularly at the star-and-moon mobile hanging down over it. “What’s up with the mobile? I get the feeling that’s a dream-made clue, not something that was in her real room.”
“I think you’re onto something there,” Shias said, pacing circles around the bed, examining it from all sides. “But I can’t figure it out. It’s like… there’s something missing. Or it speaks to a past we don’t know about yet.” He shook his head. “I think it’s a piece in a puzzle that we don’t have enough pieces to figure out yet.”
“Sal’s kind of a theater kid, don’t you think?” Shana asked. “He talked to Caleb and Fae about taking the stage, about making an interesting story… he’s treating this whole Endless Night plan like he’s just the clever villain in a story, not like this is real life.”
“I think he knows it’s real, though,” Shias said. “He just wants to make reality as interesting as possible. A theater kid, huh? Delilah was for a bit, too.”
“She still would be,” Shana said. “She only quit the Drama Club in middle school because all they would do were plays.”
“That’s kind of what Drama Clubs do, though,” Kathryn said.
“She’s all about musicals,” Shana said, smiling as she remembered a younger Delilah’s frustrated saga of trying to get her middle school Drama Club to put on her favorite musical, “Kingdom of Daybreak.” They eventually had relented, and Delilah loved it… and then quit the Drama Club after their three performances were done. “She fought really hard for the one musical they did, and then realized that was the only one she’d ever get. I’m glad she ended up at Revue Palace.”
“Oh right, GFA is a musical,” Kathryn said, nodding sagely, referring to Shana and Delilah’s favorite thing in the entire world, Great Feline Adventures.
“Two songs per episode!” Shana said, grinning broadly. “For a full one hundred episodes over four seasons, they never broke that rule. And then the second movie was a full sung-through musical, with no spoken dialogue. That was Delilah’s favorite.”
“It was mine, too,” Rae said with a smile. “I mostly preferred the games, but the second movie was so wonderful.”
“We should have a GFA party when this is all over,” Shana said with a dreamy sigh. “Watch the movies at least, maybe some of our favorite episodes, and definitely play some of the video games. Rae, you have Gears of a Rising Kingdom, right? That’s my favorite.”
Rae nodded, a bit more bounce and pep in her movements as she finished looking through — and reorganizing — her third drawer. “Mine, too. We should definitely play it again.”
“Getting back on track here,” Ben said, drumming out a light rhythm on Altair’s tummy and paws with his fingers, “what’s next? We just wait for the girls to finish over there?”
“I’m still looking through this script,” Shana said, gesturing with the script for emphasis. “I just get distracted easily.”
“Benjamin knows all about that,” Kathryn said, slightly muffled from the huge stack of linens pressed against her face as she hefted them back onto the high shelf where they belonged.
“Guilty as charged,” Ben said. Altair kicked his legs now and then in time with the rhythm he was drumming, and Ben started meeting his paws on the downbeat. Soon they fell into step with each other, turning it into a cute little paw-finger clapping game. And now Shana really couldn’t concentrate on the script, because who had ever seen something so cute? Shias, meanwhile, was all focus, pacing around the room, giving everything a close, analytical stare.
“Oh!” Rae suddenly said, pulling aside some clothes and pulling something from the drawer. “Maybe this is it.”
She held up an ornate brass key with an intricate crescent-moon-shaped handle and an inscription along the key’s length. Shana raced to look at it, and was stunned for a moment, because the inscription was just one word:
Greyson.
Even though she’d been talking about it not long ago with her teammates, it was still difficult for her to wrap her head around the fact that the villain of the hour was a Greyson. Her family name, and all of her family who bore it, meant so much to her. It was such a core element of her identity, and even though they’d all had their ups and downs, she loved every single one of her fellow Greysons.
But then Sal had stepped onto the stage, announcing his name and heritage, throwing the biggest wrench into what it meant to be a Greyson. She knew he wasn’t her ancestor, he was some branching point in the long Greyson family tree that led to Shana and her siblings, but even so. It left her unsettled and uncomfortable.
“Well, there’s a second door in this room,” Ben said, hopping to his feet and hurrying over to the closed door, Altair trotting happily after him.
“Let’s try the key,” Rae said.
“It’s all you,” Kathryn said, when Rae looked to pass the key off to someone else. “You’re the one who found it. Go ahead.”
Rae smiled gratefully and tried the key. It worked, unlocking the door with a soft click, and Rae led the way inside. The room was dark, but she found a light switch and flipped it, turning on a series of small, dim spotlights that shone onto a child-sized stage for one. There was a curtain rolled back to the side, and a small “backstage” area with a rack of clothes and props behind a folding screen. The rest of the room didn’t feel so much like a theater as a reading room. Bookshelves lined two walls, full of books — and many collections of plays, Shana noticed. The seating arrangements consisted of a pair of rocking chairs and a plush loveseat, and the entire arrangement screamed to Shana of this place being a special place for two. Two to sit across from each other in rocking chairs, or to snuggle up on the loveseat, reading.
“He really was a theater kid,” Ben said, walking up and onto the stage. He looked very out of place there, too tall for the curtain made for a child’s height. Even Delilah would have been a bit big for this stage.
“These are all short plays,” Shias said, flipping through a series of scripts on a table near the stage. “With small casts, or just one character.”
“Perfect for this kind of setup,” Shana said. “A great place for a kid to practice and learn, and he’d have his favorite audience, too.” She smiled, able to picture it, the Nightmare-Child not a little villain but a happy little boy, all dressed up and performing for his mother.
“I wonder why he’s letting us see so much of his life, though,” Shias said. “That doesn’t seem to fit within his plans, here.”
“If he didn’t want us to know about his life, he shouldn’t have locked us in a recreation of his childhood home,” Kathryn said with a shrug.
The boy suddenly popped into existence, standing on the stage, glaring at the teens with tears glistening in his eyes. “You’re not supposed to be in here!” he cried. “How did you find the key? I couldn’t find it, and I’m the one who’s allowed to use it!”
“We want to know more about you,” Shana said. “Maybe the house is letting us.”
“It shouldn’t!” the boy cried, balling his hands into fists.
“It’s going to be okay,” Shana said with a smile. “Just you wait. We’re going to help you.”
The boy opened his mouth to fire off another angry retort, but Altair suddenly trotted up between Shana and him. Altair didn’t threaten, didn’t growl, just wagged his tail, but the boy took one look at him and let out a panicked cry, then vanished.
He reappeared by the door, as far away from Altair as possible without leaving the room. Adopting the wicked, derisive attitude that he’d first introduced himself with, he sneered at them. “Help?” he asked. “Who said I need help? You’re the ones who need help, trapped in my game. And soon you’ll lose, and be mine forever.”
“I know you want to control things, to possess things and people,” Shana said gently. “But it doesn’t have to be this way. We can be friends, I think. But you won’t be able to accept that right now, so just you wait. You’ll see.”
The boy scoffed, but, seeing Altair start to trot cheerfully towards him, clamped his mouth shut over whatever reply he was going to give, and vanished.
His voice rang throughout the halls, echoing with wicked laughter. “You’ll never leave. Just you wait. The Walkers are coming, soon. And you’ll never escape them.” His voice echoed for a moment, and then went eerily silent.
“All right, then,” Shana said, smiling at Altair as he came over to her, wagging his little tail. “Good job, Altair. Now, let’s go check out the room that you found.” She fought off the urge to shudder. The boy had reminded her of the Walkers, the same Walkers he’d threatened them with when they’d first entered the house. They hadn’t shown up yet, so she’d put them out of her mind, but with the threat renewed, she had to stay extra alert. And she had to be sure not to be afraid.
“Give me a second,” Shias said, going through the plays and books, scanning titles and authors. “I’m memorizing these. We can look them up when we get out of here.”
“That’s perfect!” Shana said. “Instead of taking the time to try and find clues inside these books and plays, we can wait until we’re back to a safe place and check them out there.”
“If they have clues about this place and the game, don’t we need them now?” Ben asked.
“I was thinking more that they might teach us things about Sal,” Shias said. “What he likes, what he’s read, what he cares about… I know this is all from his childhood, and he’s hundreds of years old now and has changed a lot, but… well. It’s a long shot, but it’s something.”
“No matter how old someone is, their childhood shapes them,” Rae said. “He told Caleb that his mother’s death doesn’t affect him anymore, but that doesn’t mean that’s true. With all the evidence we see here, it has to still matter to him, whether he realizes it or not.”
Shana nodded. “Right. Shias, I’ll help you, and then we can move on.”
The twins finished memorizing titles and names, and then Shana led the way out through the mother’s bedroom and down the hall, around the corner to the door that Altair had found earlier. Shana tried it, and it opened easily.
The room within was a library, which would have delighted Shana if not for the dark, gloomy lighting, the cobwebs dangling from the ceiling, the actual spider she saw crawling up a bookcase, and the worst part:
A distant chorus of footsteps.
Shambling, shuffling, stomping, marching, striding, a whole clamoring approach of footsteps heralded what Shana had dreaded.
The Walkers.
They were supposed to only exist in the town called Quiet from one of Shana’s three worst Nightmares. But here they were, in the empty house, just as the boy had threatened.
“Close the door,” Shana said, making sure everyone was inside before pulling the door shut, slightly drowning out the heavy footfalls approaching from down the hall. There was no way to lock it, though, and though she’d never had the opportunity to shut a door closed between herself and the Walkers, she doubted an unlocked door would serve as any kind of defense. Even so, having the door between her and them made her feel a little more secure.
I faced my fears in the trials of Dreamworld. I learned to overcome my Nightmares and be the Dreamer I was meant to be.
I’m not going to panic. I’m scared. I know I’m scared.
But I won’t let fear make my choices for me.
“Somewhere in here we’ll find the way to where Garnet’s being kept,” she said, starting around the room, keeping her distance from cobwebs and spiders. Ben was already on the case, too, Altair trotting along beside him, sniffing everything. One by one, the Dawn Riders spread out through the small library, making sure they all stayed in sight of each other as they looked for an exit.
“Shana, you’re the only one who can use your magic,” Shias said. “Could you try something? Maybe using your Support aura through Altair could bring out even a portion of someone’s magic. I’d like to see if I can access Divination.”
“Right!” Shana said. She pulled out her bookmark Talisman and focused her efforts through Altair. A faint blue aura surrounded Shias, and he pulled out his pen Talisman and gestured towards a nearby bookshelf.
Nothing happened. His Talisman didn’t even light up, the telltale sign of magic at work.
“Well, it was an idea,” Shias said with a shrug. “We’ll just have to rely on our physical abilities and wits.”
“We’ve got tons of wits between the five of us!” Kathryn said. Altair barked, and Kathryn grinned. “Between the six of us, I mean.”
The footsteps were growing louder, but were still a ways away. They had time.
Rae yelped, leaping back from a bookshelf. Kathryn picked up a book and smashed down on that same shelf, nodding approvingly. “And that gets rid of one spider,” she said. “Don’t get too close, Rae. I’ll handle spiders.”
“I can, too,” Ben said, taking a startlingly less violent approach — and one that sent a shiver down Shana’s spine. He found a spider that was crawling in the girls’ direction, and he just scooped it up with his bare hand, lifting it up to a high web above the entire bookcase. It latched onto the web and climbed towards the ceiling, leaving the humans alone.
“Oh, how do you stand it?” Kathryn asked with a shudder. “I’m brave enough to squash ‘em, and sometimes I’ll use something to pick one up and take it out of the house, but your bare hands?”
“It’s no big deal,” Ben said with calm nonchalance. “They won’t hurt you unless they feel threatened.”
“Well then I’ll have to be extra wary,” Kathryn said, hefting a book, her eyes darting around the room. “Because I’m definitely a threat.”
“Oh, there’s something up here,” Ben said, feeling along the dusty top of a shelf right beneath a pair of spiders spinning fresh webbing. A latch clicked, and the bookshelf wobbled, swinging slightly outward. He pulled and it swung outward completely, almost noiselessly, on hinges designed for just this kind of movement.
Behind that bookshelf was a hidden door.
“Nice one, Ben!” Shana said, raising her hand. Ben gave her a hearty high-five, and then Shana tried the door. It was unlocked. The Walkers were getting awfully close, but they weren’t even in this room yet — and Garnet was just beyond this new door. Shana paused, not opening the door all the way yet, looking back to her team. Seeing the looks of readiness and determination on their faces gave her confidence, and she pushed the door open and strode into the room.
The room was dark, too dark. The light, dim and gloomy as it was, did not reach into this new room. Shana couldn’t see a thing except Altair, glowing cheerfully at her feet.
She made sure everyone was in, and then closed the door behind them. The sounds of the approaching Walkers went suddenly silent.
For several seconds, the Dawn Riders stood in darkness, waiting in the silence.
Then, a spotlight snapped on. A pillar of light in the center of the room, it illuminated Garnet, hovering a few feet off the floor, her head and shoulders slumped, her eyes closed. Blonde hair tumbled down across her shoulders, gleaming as if with its own light, like an overflowing halo, a reminder of Garnet’s singular heritage.
The boy’s voice chuckled, a ripple of laughter through the dark room. “She won’t wake,” he said, his disembodied voice sounding from all sides. “You cannot save her.”
“We’ll see about that,” Shana said. Her confidence was bolstered by what she’d seen so far of the boy, and her successes in the house. She was on to something, she was sure of it.
More than that, the Eternal Flame burned bright and warm in her heart, a beacon lighting the way.
And that beacon was telling Shana not to be afraid of anything confining Garnet.
She strode confidently up to the pillar of light imprisoning the Crystal Family’s princess. The boy chuckled, singing a taunting little song about how Shana was helpless, how Garnet would never wake, but Shana ignored it. She reached right up, into the light, and touched Garnet’s face.
“Wake up,” she said gently. “It’s time to leave Nightmares behind.”
Garnet stirred, and the boy’s disembodied voice gasped, but said nothing. Looking around with glittering blue eyes that shone with their own light, Garnet took it all in as she slowly floated down to the floor until she was standing on her own. She looked drowsy, and it took her several moments of blinking about before her gaze centered on Shana. “Shana,” she said in a sleepy voice, a smile spreading across her lips. “Oh, thank goodness you’re here. I… oh, but what was I doing?”
“You were sleeping,” Shana said. “How do you feel?”
“Tired,” Garnet said, yawning. “Oh, excuse me. I… dear me. I was having the most terrible nightmare. But now… where is this place?”
“It’s a bit of a Nightmare itself,” Shana said. “But don’t worry. You’re safe with us. We’re going to be out of here soon, once we save Annabelle and Heart.”
Lights snapped on, filling the room, and the boy now floated in the central pillar of light, glaring down at Shana and Garnet. “How?” he asked. “You shouldn’t have been able to touch her! Let alone wake her. How did you do it?”
Shana smiled up at the Nightmare-Child. “Did you forget I’m the Dreamer? I was made to banish Nightmares. No power of Nightmares can stop me from what I’ve set out to do. And that includes the Nightmares that are plaguing your own heart.”
“We’ll see about that,” the boy spat. He flipped in midair, vanishing before he came back around.
There was a moment of joy at Garnet’s rescuing, but soon a new problem was discovered.
“The only way out of here is the way we came,” Ben said.
Shana looked around and saw that he was right. There was only one door in this room, and it led back to the library — the same library that was crawling with spiders, and was about to be overcome by Walkers.
“We can’t go back there,” Rae said, shuddering.
“No,” Shana said firmly, looking about the room. “We can’t.” Which meant there had to be another way. Or not that there was another way, no, that wasn’t right.
Shana would have to make another way.
That’s what she was beginning to understand about herself, about being the Dreamer, about being in the midst of Nightmares. Leon had, at their first meeting, suggested that Shana, as the Dreamer, would be able to alter reality itself. She was sure he’d meant that she could alter reality in the Waking World, meaning to join her powers to his and shape the Waking World’s reality to his whims.
But he hadn’t been entirely wrong. He’d just been a little bit off the mark. Because Dreams and Nightmares and the In-Between weren’t false constructs. They were reality, too.
And Shana’s powers came alive in these spaces. Even though she hadn’t rescued Heart yet, she had the Eternal Flame within her, and the Eternal Flame was part of her unique legacy as the Dreamer. The Flame could not be separated from her self or her powers as the Dreamer.
And that meant she could still be the Dreamer, even with Heart so far away, untethered from Shana’s own heart.
It wasn’t any technical act that Shana took, nor a specific force of will, that altered the room to Shana and her team’s needs. It was just a wish, a hope, an ardent trust that she would not be trapped in this place, that she would find the path forward. Before now, she’d been doing exactly that without realizing it — rooms that shouldn’t have been open, keys that her team shouldn’t have been able to find. She’d thought the study that shouldn’t have been unlocked had been made so because the book had wanted her to find it, but she’d had it backwards.
She’d needed to find the book. And so the door had been opened to her. Because she was the Dreamer that the Nightmare-Child needed.
And now, as she wished and trusted, a new door appeared in this empty room. A door away from the Walkers. A door towards those who still needed saving.
“This way,” Shana said, opening the new door and ushering her friends through it. When everyone was safely on the other side, she saw the door from the library opening, suddenly heard the chorus of the Walkers’ footfalls, and she ducked through the new door and shut it tight behind her. A key was in her hand, and she turned it in the lock.
The door was secure. The Walkers couldn’t reach her that way.
“Annabelle!” Kathryn said. Shana turned and saw this room was much like where Garnet had been kept, empty and dark save for a pillar of light in the center, in which floated a sleeping princess.
Shana approached the pillar of light, but the boy suddenly appeared in front of her, blocking her way. “You’re not going to get whatever you want anymore, Dreamer,” he said. “This is a game, and you’re cheating, and cheaters never win!”
“You never specified the rules,” Shana said calmly, putting on her most charming smile. “And since this is supposed to be the Library of Solitude’s Dream, and you’re tampering with what it should be, I think that means you broke the rules first, more fundamental rules than the rules to your game.”
“Are you calling my game illegitimate?” The boy kept glowering, but Shana thought she saw tears beginning to form in his eyes.
“I could, but I won’t. Because I know you want a playmate. But this really isn’t the best way to play. So that’s what I’m going to show you.” Shana spread her arms wide as an open invitation. “I’m going to give you a better game than this. One that we can all enjoy.”
“Changing my game will never be something I can enjoy!” the boy cried. But when Altair stepped towards him, he yelped, toppled backwards, flailed his arms for balance…
And then vanished.
Shana stepped forward into the light and reached up to touch Annabelle’s face. “It’s time to wake up, Annabelle,” she said gently.
The little princess stirred, then looked down at Shana, blinking her big blue eyes. “What…?” she asked, slowly drifting down to stand on the floor. “I… oh.” She took Shana’s hands in hers, smiling up at her. “Thank you. I…” She paused, then shook her head. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You’re here, so I’m okay.”
That simple proclamation made Shana’s heart dance, and when the lights came on in the room there was already a new door to exit through. Shana led the way, ushering the others through and entering the new room last.
This room was not like where the princesses had been imprisoned. It was a bedroom, one that didn’t fit at all with the rest of this house.
It was made up almost exactly like Shana’s bedroom back home.
They were in a spacious bedroom with lush blue carpets, and directly across from the entrance were floor-to-ceiling windows that faced east, and under normal conditions let in a marvelous amount of natural light in the mornings. To the left was a reading area with tons of bookshelves around a small fireplace, and a desk for studying and homework. To the right was a walk-in closet, chests of drawers, and Shana’s huge canopy bed.
Asleep on that bed was Heart, her magenta skin shining, her golden hair shimmering. Her chest rose and fell with steady, deep breaths.
Around the bed were six shadowy monsters, Nightmyrn shaped like huge, heavy-jawed dogs, eyes glaring with rage, drool dripping from hungry fangs.
Shana stepped towards them, unafraid. “It’s all right,” she said. “You don’t have to be afraid. And you know you don’t belong here.”
The Nightmyrn all sat down, shutting their jaws. And then, one-by-one, they popped out of existence, vanishing from the room.
Shana raced to Heart, leaping onto the bed with Altair and lifting her up, hugging her close. “It’s time to wake up, Heart,” she said, her own heart bursting with relief at finally finding her. “Everything’s okay, now.”
Heart stirred, and after a moment’s weary mumblings, suddenly cried out and hugged Shana back. “Oh, Shana,” she said, her musical voice full of relief. “Thank you for finding me. I… I am not supposed to sleep. That was…” She shuddered, and Shana hugged her tighter, and Heart returned the gesture. “Thank you, Shana.” Altair wriggled his way into the embrace, licking both their faces, and Heart laughed. “Thank you, too, Altair.” She pulled away and looked at the rest of them, thanking each of them in turn. She and Shana rose from the bed, hand-in-hand, Heart taking a moment to steady herself.
And then she was ready. “It is time for us to put an end to this,” Heart said. “Ready, Shana?”
“Oh, I’m ready,” Shana said, grinning, her heart full to bursting with all the best things. She looked up at the ceiling and called out in a loud voice, “Hey, kid! We rescued everyone. Won’t you come congratulate us?”
The boy popped into existence, and Shana, Heart, the Dawn Riders, and Annabelle all reached out together. Because this wasn’t just something for Shana to do. Her friends and Annabelle had also been trained in the purification of Nightmares. And that was exactly what they were doing now.
The boy himself was plagued with a never-ending Nightmare, trapped in this In-Between world, lost in his fears.
No longer.
The boy cried out, but only for a moment, as light blazed in the room, blazed through the whole house, lit up this darkened space like a pure-white sun. Shana felt within her heart the change happening, and she spoke into the bright silence the words that every frightful sleeper needed to hear.
“It’s okay, now. You don’t have to be afraid.”
When the light subsided, the world was changed. They were still in the house, but it was no longer gloomy and dismal. Golden sunlight streamed in through the windows of this recreation of Shana’s bedroom. Colors were vibrant and beautiful, popping in a way Shana had never seen colors pop before. There was a faint music in the air, a cheerful melody of hope and light.
And before her, seated on the floor, the former Nightmare-Child was crying.
“I… I…” he sobbed, unable to get any farther in whatever it was he wanted to say. Altair trotted up to him, and the boy didn’t flinch back. So Altair hopped up, placed his front paws on the boy’s chest, and licked his face, catching the tears as they fell.
“How are you feeling?” Shana asked, taking a seat beside the child.
“I’m so… I don’t… I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. Slowly, weeping turned to soft giggles, and he petted Altair as Altair licked his face. “He’s a good boy.”
“He is,” Shana said, beaming.
“I… um…” the boy gently pushed Altair away and looked up at Shana. “I’m sorry. I was… I was really bad, wasn’t I? I just… I was so scared, and I thought…” He shook his head. “I don’t know. Nothing’s ever been right with me. The only other Dreamer I ever knew said… he said that I didn’t deserve to exist. But he couldn’t destroy me, so he just banished me to a place where nobody was ever supposed to be able to find me. I… don’t know how to thank you.”
“Just like that,” Shana said. “I don’t need anything special. Just those two words is enough thanks for me. But what will you do now? Will you go back to Sal?”
“Sal,” the boy said, bowing his head. “So he’s calling himself that. I… when I was part of his heart, I used my first name. That was… that was what mother always called me.” He smiled. “Alexander. That’s who I am. That’s… who he is, too. Even if he’s turned his back on me.”
“About your mother…” Shana started, her heart breaking over what she knew had happened. But Alexander shook his head.
“I know,” he said. “She’s… gone. I know everything that’s been happening. I haven’t been able to be a part of it, but I know his heart. I’m the other half of it, after all. Or… maybe not half, but at least part of it. But I… I can’t return to the heart where I belong. Not yet.” He pushed himself to his feet, rubbed at his eyes, and then turned to Garnet, fixing her with a determined stare. “I know what happened to your family, and where they’re being kept. You’ll only be able to get there with my help, and we’ll need to hurry, or they’ll be lost forever. But there’s still time. We need to go save them. Because I’m… partially responsible.” He held out his hand to the Crystal Princess. “I need to make this right. Will you let me help you?”
Garnet hesitated a moment, and then took the boy’s hand. “If you can help me save my family, then I gratefully accept,” she said. “When you’re ready, let us go to them.”
“We’ll need your help, Dreamer,” Alexander said, turning to Shana. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah,” Shana said, and everyone else agreed as well. They were all ready, more than ready, to go save Garnet’s family.
“Then follow me,” Alexander said, turning away from them. He waved a hand, and there was a ripple in the air that formed into a jet-black door in a silver frame. He opened it, and hesitated on the threshold.
Shana came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling down at him. “We can do this,” she said. Alexander nodded, took a deep breath, and started forward. Shana and the others followed.
The door took them from beautiful, vibrant light and color to a bleak, forbidding landscape. Dark skies swirled with angry clouds, flickering with forked lightning. A shattered, broken pathway led up, segments of rock defying gravity as airborne stepping stones to a high peak, upon which loomed a black, high-towered citadel.
“The In-Between Citadel,” Alexander said, his voice trembling. Lightning flashed, and a crack of thunder split the night. “A prison between Waking and Dreaming. I built it, but… he took it over recently.”
“Who?” Shana asked.
“The elder prince of the Crystal Family,” Alexander said. “Glen Arianos.”