Zac and the Dream Stealers (6 page)

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.

“Sorry,” said Tilly, her shoulders still jiggling with amusement. “You were in such a daze standing there I just couldn't resist.”

Zac couldn't help but laugh, too.

Tom reached out and turned the golden handle of the double doors, which creaked open. Beyond lay a gloomy, abandoned hall.

Tom stepped through the doorway, brushing aside a huge silken cobweb, and gestured for them to follow. Tilly and Zac stepped silently after him.

At once, Zac felt uneasy. Unlike the rest of HQ, it was cold and dark here — exactly the kind of place he imagined vampires and werewolves preferred — and he half expected another terrible monster to leap out of the shadows at any moment. He breathed deeply, forcing himself to follow the others through curtains of cobwebs. The floor was thick with dust, and scattered with footprints from the many times Tom and Tilly had sneaked through.

Some of the doors they passed lay open, and Zac glanced into the rooms. One looked like an abandoned classroom; another was a storeroom, piled high with ancient-looking chests. A third seemed to be an immense, disused library. He took a few steps into the room and looked up: The ceiling seemed miles away.

“Come on,” whispered Tom, grabbing Zac by the arm.

Then he froze. A look of horror spread over his face.

“Tom, what are you looking like that for?” said Tilly. “That isn't funny. Stop it.”

“Sshh!” hissed Tom.

“What is it?” asked Zac.

“Someone . . . someone's coming,” spat Tom. “Quick! Behind here.” He dragged them into the library, and they ducked down behind a desk piled high with books.

“Who is it, sneaking around at this time of night?” asked Tilly.

“How am I supposed to know?” snapped Tom. “Sshh!”

The door creaked open, and Zac heard stealthy footsteps moving through the darkness. Moments later, the door groaned again and a second person entered. Tom peeked over the edge of the desk. His eyes grew wide and he ducked back down instantly.

“It's Julius,” he whispered, “and Gideon!”

“What in Nocturne are they doing?” said Tilly.

Zac looked out through the columns of books on the desk. Julius and tall, thin Gideon were standing in the center of the room. Gideon was furious.

“Well?” he snapped. “Would you care to explain exactly what you were doing back there, breaking into Tinn's quarters?”

“I . . . I was looking for something,” said Julius. “Something I think might be rather important.”

“Oh?” said Gideon. “Important enough to trawl through the Grandmaster's personal belongings?”

“Gideon, I think there may be a traitor among us. I was looking for something that might help me find out who.”

Gideon was silent for a moment. “And did you find anything?” he finally asked.

“No. I hadn't been looking for very long when you burst in and dragged me down here.”

“Oh, how convenient,” said Gideon, raising an eyebrow.

“And what's that supposed to mean?” demanded Julius.

“Only that I find it very odd, Julius, that you would rather sneak around like a thief in the night than ask permission to enter Tinn's quarters. What would you have to hide if, as you claim, you have the interest of the Knights at heart?”

“Gideon, I swear!” pleaded Julius. “I was only trying to help. I didn't want to alarm anyone.”

Gideon stared at him. He seemed to be making his mind up about something. “I feel that I would not be doing my duty if I did not ask you this question,” he began. “Was it you that betrayed Tinn? Did you lead the Dream Stealers to him on the night of his capture? Please tell me the truth.”

“That's ridiculous!” said Julius, scandalized. “I would never betray Grandmaster Tinn. He's like a father to me. He's the only one who can lead us against the Dream Stealers.”

Gideon glared at him for a long moment. “Very well,” he said at last. “I will give you the benefit of the doubt this time. But don't ever go sneaking into the Grandmaster's apartment again, or I will be forced to alert the others. And know that I am watching you, Julius.”

Without another word, a pale and shaking Julius hurried away. Gideon watched him leave, then fished a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his brow. After a few moments, he strode to the door and headed back up the corridor.

“You don't really think Julius could have betrayed Tinn, do you?” said a shocked Tilly as they climbed out from behind the desk.

“Who knows?” Tom replied. “But why would he be creeping around Tinn's rooms? That's pretty suspicious, if you ask me.”

“Maybe he was telling the truth,” said Tilly. “Maybe he was looking for evidence that one of us is a spy.”

“Or maybe he was trying to destroy evidence that
he's
the spy,” said Tom thoughtfully.

“Do you think we should say anything?” asked Zac. “You know, to Granny or the others?”

“I don't think that's a good idea,” said Tilly. “The last thing the Knights need is to be suspicious of one another. I think Gideon handled it the right way. He'll keep this quiet, but he'll watch Julius like a hawk. If anything else happens, then he'll tell the others.”

Zac nodded. “Julius just doesn't seem the kind of person who'd do something like that, though,” he said.

“Let's just hope Gideon is wrong about him,” said Tilly. “And in the meantime, I think we should keep an eye on him, too.”

“Good idea,” said Tom. “But there's nothing more we can do tonight, is there? So let's show Zac what we came to show him.” He crept back over to the door, checked that the coast was clear, then led the others farther along the abandoned corridor. At the very last door, he stopped. It was covered in rusty chains and locks.

“What's in
there
?” said Zac.

“You'll see,” said Tom with a smile. “Took us ages to get in. There don't seem to be any keys, so we had to practice unlocking things with magic for weeks. Tilly finally cracked it a few months ago.”

“Is it hard using magic?” said Zac. He'd been wondering for a while. “How does it work?”

“Well, you have to concentrate hard on what you want to happen,” said Tilly. “You have to see it clearly in your head. And then you feel this kind of warmth in your fingers, and, well, you just sort of know when the spell is ready to come out.”

“But it is tricky,” said Tom, “especially when you're trying a spell for the first time. If you don't concentrate, then it won't work, or something weird'll happen. I kept making locks blow bubbles. Mum and Dad went mental.”

“Watch,” said Tilly, and she held out her hand to the door.

A little wisp of smoke formed in her palm, and she blew it toward the door, where it poured into the locks. There was a series of clicks and rattles, and a moment later Tom pushed the door open, dislodging a plume of dust.

“Bravo, sis,” he coughed.

The door led to a neat bedroom. There was a carefully made bed, and beside it a small round table. On the table stood a photograph in a wooden frame. Two people smiled brightly out at them. The first was a young man with a neat red beard. His arm was around the shoulder of a beautiful young woman with straight black hair and ruby lips.

“That's Rumpous Tinn in his younger days,” said Tom, pointing at the picture.

“Who's the lady with him?” asked Zac.

“That's his sister, Aris,” answered Tilly. “She was a clever magician. A good one, I think. This was her room. Tinn doesn't speak about her much. She died years ago, pretty mysteriously, according to Grandad.”

“Come on!” said Tom. “We didn't bring him here to look at old photos!”

Apart from the bed and table all Zac could see was dust. “There isn't much else here, though, is there?” he said.

“Well, no,” said Tom, smiling smugly. “Not if you don't count this . . .”

He reached up and yanked one of the unlit torches on the wall. For a second nothing happened. Then, with a loud grinding noise, a small section of the wall started to move outward, leaving a square hole in the brickwork.

“Follow me,” said Tom, crawling into the hole.

A moment later Zac heard his voice from the other side.

“It's OK, Zac, honest.”

Tilly smiled and nodded encouragingly.

He knelt down and wriggled through the hole. When he was on the other side, Tom helped him up.

“Thanks,” he said, dusting himself off. “So what exactly — Whoa!”

He was standing in some kind of laboratory. The shelves were packed with glass jars, all filled with powders, liquids, and body parts, like pickled eyeballs and spare toes. Textbooks, newspapers, and glass tubes were scattered all over the room.

“What is this place for?”

“We're not sure,” said Tom. “Top secret magic stuff, we think. It looks like one of the apothecary shops in town, only some of these things are just plain disgusting.” He picked up a small jar filled with a yellow-green gloop. “See what I mean? This one looks like it's filled with boogers! And what about this?”

He held up another jar. Zac peered at the contents and was amazed to see that it was crammed with row upon row of tiny sharp teeth.

“What are those?”

Tom studied the label. “Rats' jaws,” he said faintly.

“Put those down, Tom!” Tilly had joined them in the secret room, and stood behind Zac, scowling at her brother. “You agreed not to touch anything after last time.”

“Why?” said Zac. “What happened last time?”

“Oh . . . nothing,” said Tom dismissively.

“Nothing?” said Tilly. “You turned your hair bright orange! We were searching for the antidote for hours.”

“Look,” said Tom, unscrewing the lid, “I've got to have one of these for my collection. How dangerous can they be?”

The words had no sooner left his mouth than the top popped off the jar, and a set of needle-sharp teeth jumped out and attached itself to the end of his nose. Tom squealed and dropped the jar, which smashed on the floor, scattering shards of glass and rats' jaws, several of which chased him as he ran around, yelling and waving his arms.

“Keep still,” said Tilly. She found a pair of tiny tweezers on one of the tables, then headed for her brother, kicking a few sets of rats' jaws out of the way for good measure. In one swift movement, she grabbed the offending set of teeth and pulled. Tom howled as the jaws lost their grip and flew across the room, where they landed on a high shelf and began to chatter angrily on the spot.

Pale and shocked, Tom rubbed his freckled face. There were tiny bite marks on either side of his nose.

“Thanks, sis,” he said gratefully.

“Just don't open anything else,” snapped Tilly.

Zac laughed and began carefully examining the contents of some of the other jars.

S
QUID'S
U
DDER
read one label.
E
XCELLENT FOR
C
ONSTIPATION.

F
LIES'
W
INGS AND
F
ROGSPAWN
read another.
F
ANTASTIC FOR
B
REATHING
F
IRE.

Two small jars at the end of the shelf were stacked one on top of the other. The first held bright red pills and the label stated clearly:
S
ALAMANDER AND
S
NAIL
—
S
UPER FOR
S
HRINKING
—
T
AKE
O
NE
P
ILL TO
R
EACH
D
ESIRED
S
IZE
.
The second contained bright blue liquid and read
G
ULLS'
B
EAK AND
G
REMLIN
G
UNGE
—
G
OOD FOR
G
ROWTH
—
T
WO
D
ROPS
S
HOULD
D
O THE
T
RICK
.

“I wonder if these actually work,” said Zac. He turned back to look at the others, but a glint of silver on a nearby table caught his eye. A strange feeling began to build in his stomach. And then he saw it. There, among stacks of books and newspapers, was the sapphire-encrusted dagger from his dream — the very one he'd used to attack the monster.

“Er . . . guys?” he said, carefully picking up the dagger. “Look at this.”

“That's pretty,” said Tilly. “Look at the jewels on the handle.”

“I've seen this before,” said Zac. “This exact dagger.”

“How can you have?” said Tilly, frowning. “You've never been in here.”

“It was in a dream,” said Zac. “The dream I had tonight.”

“You had a dream?” gasped Tilly. “Here? But people in Nocturne can't dream —”

“I know,” said Zac. “Tom's already told me.”

“But you told me you couldn't remember what your dream was about,” said Tom.

“I didn't want to talk about it. It wasn't a very nice one.”

“I knew it!” said Tom, looking rather excited. “It
was
a bad dream! So what happened?”

“Well,” said Zac, “I was in a dark room and there was this black mist everywhere. All of a sudden, this dagger was in my hand.”

He held up the dagger. Tom's and Tilly's eyes followed it.

“That doesn't sound too bad,” said Tom.

“He's not finished yet!” snapped Tilly. “Go on, Zac.”

“Then there were these heavy footsteps, and some kind of monster flew out of the darkness. I fell back, and the monster came down on the dagger and exploded. The dagger saved my life.”

“Wow,” said Tom, awestruck.

“It's probably nothing,” he said, placing the knife back on the table, trying not to panic. “Hey, what were you looking at before I interrupted?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Oh,” said Tom, tearing his eyes from the dagger. “This old trunk, it's locked tight. The lid won't budge. I'm dying to know what's in it.”

He shot a hopeful look at his sister.

“I've told you a hundred times, I won't open it!” said Tilly, shaking her head in annoyance. “Judging by some of the stuff lying around this place, there could be anything in there.”

“But it's a special occasion! We've got a guest.”

“No!”

Tom scowled. “Fine. I'll try it myself. Again.”

Tom crouched down by the trunk and closed his eyes in concentration. A moment later, a purple spark shot from the end of his finger and the lock began to spit out multicolored bubbles.

Tom shrugged in disgust.

Zac couldn't help grinning. “Go on, Tilly,” he said. “Put him out of his misery.”

Tilly glared at him for a moment, and then glanced at the trunk.

“Fine,” she said. “I'll try, but it's probably protected.”

Tom beamed at her. She marched past him and leaned over the trunk. Though she looked annoyed, Zac got the feeling that she secretly enjoyed showing off her talents. Another wisp of smoke appeared in her hand, and a moment later the trunk clicked open.

“Well, that was easy enough,” said Zac.

But nobody answered. Tom and Tilly were gazing at the trunk's contents in fascination.

Zac edged closer. Heaps of small, roughly shaped spheres of thick colored glass were glowing inside the trunk, throwing a spooky light on Tom's and Tilly's faces.

“Dream orbs!” whispered Tom. “Sometimes these get left behind in the Dream Plains when a Wakeling has a dream. Each orb has an echo of a dream inside. I've never seen one up close before — no one's supposed to take them. There must be hundreds of them in here. And look, I don't believe it!” He reached over and carefully picked up one as if it were a small bomb. It was about the size of an orange, and looked like a huge black marble. Its surface was streaked with glowing purple waves.

“What's that?” asked Zac.

“A black dream orb,” said Tom. “This is what's left behind if a Dream Stealer has been there — inside is a twisted dream.”

Tilly's brow furrowed. “How do you know that?”

“
Myth and Magic
,” Tom said. “Don't you
ever
read?”

“So it's dangerous?” asked Zac, eyeing the orb suspiciously.

Tom, who seemed to realize at that moment exactly what he was holding, held it out away from himself.

“Perhaps you'd better just put it down,” said Tilly.

“I — I think you might be right,” Tom agreed.

Zac and Tilly kept a safe distance as he began to put the orb carefully back into the trunk, but a tiny movement drew Zac's eyes to Tom's feet.

His heart almost stopped.

One of the runaway rats' jaws was snapping angrily around Tom's ankles.

Zac watched in horror as the little set of teeth jumped up and sank itself into Tom's foot. Tom squealed and performed a frantic tap dance on the stone floor, his arms flailing uncontrollably.