Zac and the Dream Stealers (14 page)

Moonlight reached through the trees and touched the forest floor where the invisible Noelle sat shivering and alone.

After a while, she stood up and shook off her fear like dust. Being scared wasn't going to help her save Mr. Tinn. She had to rescue him. He was her only friend. He'd promised her freedom, and here she was, after a lifetime underground, standing beneath the sky and breathing fresh air. She started after the goblins, down the dirt path winding off into the blackness of the trees.

After a few minutes she smelt a wood fire and spotted dancing flames. The light drew her like a moth. Soon a campsite came into view, and she heard the growling voices of the goblins.

The trees here were enormous, with great knotted trunks perfect for climbing. Noelle shinnied up to the lower branches of one to survey the camp. There were four beds for four goblins. Tinn sat in the center of the camp tied to a tree. He was unconscious.

“You see, fellas?” snorted one goblin. “These little patrols pay off after all, eh?”

“Right you are, Grooble,” said another. “We'll eat like kings tonight!”

“That we will,” said Grooble. “But before we stuff our bellies, it's time for some shut-eye. Grunge, it's your turn to keep watch. When we wake up, we'll carve up this fella right nice and have us a breakfast to remember!”

The others grunted excitedly, and Noelle watched from her perch as they shuffled off to bed. Within minutes the three were all snoring loudly.

The goblin called Grunge looked greedily at the unconscious Tinn, and took out from his tattered clothing a small piece of wood and a knife. Humming happily to himself, he started to whittle.

A plan began to form in Noelle's head.

She dropped silently from the tree and crept into the camp. She was a master of stealth, and reaching Tinn was easy. He was still out cold. A trickle of dark blood had dried on his face.

Grunge stopped chipping away at his bit of wood and began to sniff at the air. Noelle froze. The goblin set down his little carving and scrambled to his feet, clutching his knife, his nose twitching. He came closer and closer, and his rancid breath began to choke her. She was sure he was going to smell her out! His green eyes flashed.

Then he looked straight at her.

She almost screamed. She knew he couldn't see her, but it was almost as if those enormous eyes were staring directly into her own.

“Oi! Grunge, what you doin'?” Grooble had woken up.

Grunge whirled around. “I . . . thought . . .”

“You don't think, Grunge. Thinkin' gets you in trouble. You're supposed to be
watchin'
the prisoner,” said Grooble, settling back to sleep.

“Yeah,” said Grunge quietly. “Yeah, right. Sorry, boss.” He had one last look, then, to Noelle's relief, he turned away and went back to carving his little piece of wood.

Noelle wiped her brow and took a few deep breaths, steeling herself.

She crouched down behind Tinn. His chest and hands were bound tightly. She could untie him, but it would do no good. They were in full view of the goblins, and even if the stinking creatures somehow failed to notice, she wouldn't be able to carry him. But she had an idea.

She reached down and gently rummaged in his beard, pulling out a length of string, a whistle, and a strawberry sherbet before her hand finally closed around the locator compass. She stowed it in her pocket and stroked the old man's face.

“I'll be back,” she whispered, “I promise.”

Noelle found it difficult to leave him, but she forced herself to walk away. As she slipped through the camp, she spotted a crate filled with fruit. Stealing a shiny red apple, she cast another look at Tinn and turned back into the forest.

Much to Rigby Sundown's great disappointment — and everyone else's great relief — the remainder of the airship journey passed without incident.

Port Town was bathing in the first golden rays of morning sunshine when
Nightstalker
cruised overhead. The harbor was alive with activity. Fleets of fishing vessels were leaving for the far reaches of the Great Lake. Little streets stretched inland in all directions, like the branches of a tree.

They touched down in a small clearing just outside the town. Cornelius was so happy to be back on the ground that he hugged a boulder.

“I'll be here for a few days,” said Sundown gruffly. “I have to fix that blasted broken gun. If I'm still around, an' you're in need of a flight back, I'd be happy to take you. I haven't had such a good time in years!”

“Very kind,” said Granny. “We may just take you up on that. Actually, it's rather impressive that the ship is in one piece after what we've just been through.”

“This old girl is the toughest bird in the sky,” he said, patting the rusty van. A couple of bolts fell to the ground. “Anyway, I hope you find who you're lookin' for. Anyone who stands up to Dream Stealers is all right by me.”

He wheeled himself back into the airship.

Cornelius led the way to the harbor front, where a cobbled street wound along the quay.

“Remember, we're looking for an inn called The Grumpy Dragon,” he said.

“There it is,” said Julius.

The Grumpy Dragon was a run-down shack covered with peeling paint. Dirty water flowed freely from the gutter.

“Lovely,” said Granny.

“At least we'll be left alone in there,” said Cornelius. “Doesn't look as though it gets many customers.”

Inside, a craggy man with an eye patch was sitting behind a cluttered desk reading that day's
Port Town Reporter
. He didn't bother to look up.

Cornelius stood at the desk for a moment.

The man paid no attention.

Cornelius cleared his throat.

Still there was no reaction.

“What about that bell?” said Granny, and she reached over and pressed a button with the word
S
ERVICE
engraved upon it.

There was a tinkling noise, and the eye-patch man jumped to attention, smiling falsely. He only had one tooth, and it didn't look as though it would last very much longer.

“How can I be of assistance?” he simpered.

“We'd like two rooms,” said Cornelius.

“Of course, sir,” said the man in a smarmy tone. “Follow me.”

He led them up a dingy staircase to a couple of very shabby rooms. Granny was given one to herself, while Cornelius and Julius shared the other. Eye Patch hung around for a tip, only leaving after Cornelius threw him a few teeth.

“He's a real charmer,” said Cornelius when Granny had gone to her room. “Julius, are you all right? You look awfully pale.”

Julius was sitting on the edge of his bed, fidgeting. His face was ashen, and he kept looking out the window and jumping whenever there was a noise from the hallway outside.

“I — I'm fine,” he said. “Just worn out after that trip. I'm not a big fan of flying.”

“Well, that makes two of us,” said Cornelius, taking off his coat and draping it over the end of the bottom bunk. “We'd better get some rest. Gideon should be here with some news soon.”

At the mention of Gideon's name, Julius's face turned even paler.

Zac, Tom, and Tilly climbed out of Cornelius's fur coat and onto the dusty floor. High above, Cornelius was snoring loudly on the bed.

“Wow!” said Tom, his whiskers twitching madly. “That was unbelievable! Brilliant!”

“
Brilliant?
” said Tilly in disbelief. “We almost got killed, you idiot.”

“Yeah,” said Tom. “How good was that! Skywaymen, Tilly! Real skywaymen! And a monster the size of a hundred dragons!”

“I need some air,” said Zac. “No offense, but your grandad's coat isn't the nicest place to get stuck for a night.”

Tilly and Tom agreed, and soon they were scurrying back down the stairs of the inn.

They had just reached the hallway when they heard footsteps descending the stairs behind them. They squeezed themselves into a dusty corner.

It was Julius.

“Where's he going?” Zac whispered.

Julius opened the door, looked over his shoulder, and disappeared into the street.

“He's up to no good,” said Tom. “Let's follow him.”

But before they could move, the door swung open again, and three burly figures came striding in, followed by a fourth. The first three were men, all tall and powerfully built. The fourth was a woman, dressed in gray.

Zac felt his insides contract. “I think this is the trap!” he spat. “You were right about Julius — he's led Granny and the Knights here to be killed!”

Tom's face flooded with fear.

The woman in gray approached the desk and whispered something inaudible to the innkeeper. Eye Patch stared up at her, his one eye wide with fright. He pointed to the stairs.

“We have to do something,” said Tilly, her hands clutching her face.

The woman had begun to lead the group up the stairs.

“C'mon,” said Tom. “Quick!”

Tilly and Zac leapt onto his back, and they quickly overtook the four ominous figures. Tom scampered along the corridor and they squeezed under the door to Cornelius's room. The old man was fast asleep.

Reaching into his pocket, Zac quickly pulled out the bottle of growth serum. He looked at the others.

“Here goes!” he said. He popped open the bottle and let two electric blue drops fall onto his tongue, then he tossed the rest to Tilly. The liquid was sweeter than syrup. With a loud
ZING
, Zac was back to his normal size. A moment later, he heard another
ZING
and Tilly appeared beside him.

Tom changed himself back to his human form and made for the bed.

“Grandad! Wake up!” he said, shaking the old man.

Cornelius's eyes shot open and he leapt from the bed, throwing frantic, clumsy karate chops at Tom, who backed away into the corner, shielding his face.

“Grandad, it's me! It's Tom, you loon!”

Cornelius froze mid-chop. His eyes flicked between the three children.

“Tilly? Tom? Zac? What the . . . how?” His face began to grow red with anger.

“Grandad, there's no time!” Tom said urgently. “There are people coming up the stairs. We think they're Dream Stealers here to kill you!”

“Are you sure?” he whispered, combing his mustache into place with his fingertips.

“Pretty much.”

Cornelius looked around the room. “Where's Julius?”

“He ran away,” said Tom. “We saw him. He's the one who led them here.”

“I have to get to Granny,” said Zac.

He made for the door, but Cornelius pulled him back.

“Too dangerous, boy,” he whispered.

Zac was about to argue, but the door was thrown open and the three men rushed in.

Cornelius jumped to his feet and hurled a jinx at the first. It met its mark, and the man fell to the floor — with a growl.

“What's happening to him?” yelled Zac.

The man was changing before their eyes. His skin was bubbling and stretching, and hair was sprouting everywhere. His face elongated into a snout. Huge teeth erupted in his mouth, and great muscled arms and legs tore holes in his clothes.

“That's not a Dream Stealer!” said Tom. “That's a . . .”

“Werewolf!” Zac finished.

The monster howled, and Zac covered his ears. The other two men had also begun their hideous trans-formations. In a matter of moments, three huge and angry beasts were eyeballing them.

Cornelius caught the nearest werewolf with a well-aimed spell, turning its feet into a knot of matted fur. It toppled back into the corridor with a howl.

The two remaining creatures circled the children.

“Zac!” cried Tom from across the room. “The silver dagger!”

Zac reached into his cloak.

“Quick!” said Tom. “Give it to Tilly!”

Confused, Zac did as he was told.

The pair of werewolves growled and drew themselves up to their full height before rushing forward in attack. But suddenly, Tilly was in front of Zac, shielding him, every inch of her gleaming. By touching the dagger, she'd turned to silver — and there was nothing werewolves hated more.

The first werewolf collided with her and howled in pain. The second flew toward Tom, but he shrank back into a mouse, and it smashed through the window behind him and down into the alleyway outside.

Zac heard a crash from the next room.

Granny!

Zac sprinted into the shabby corridor, where Cornelius was fighting off the third creature, which had freed its feet from the matted fur. One of the magician's flashing spells missed its target, and, as Zac flew past, a crater appeared in the wall above his head. Images from his dream spun through his mind. It was becoming real. Then he remembered the part where Granny was begging for help. He felt ill with fear.

Granny's door had been blown from its hinges. Zac stepped cautiously into the room. One of the beds was broken in half and the window shattered. A yellow-eyed werewolf the size of a bear stood over Granny, who had fallen to her knees in the corner.

“Granny!”

Eve saw her grandson and her eyes widened in horror. She reached out an arm.

“Zac, run!”

At that moment, the werewolf lashed out and struck her with a blow so devastating that she was unconscious before her head hit the floor. Zac let out a guttural scream.

The werewolf turned, steaming mucus dripping from its muzzle. With a terrifying howl, it charged. Zac tried to stay calm. If only he
could
do magic, if only he had some sort of ability. With furious concentration, he pictured a shockwave erupting from his hands. He threw out his arm, pointed, and . . .

Nothing happened.

The werewolf hit him in the chest like a rocket, and he was thrown against the crumbling wall. He slid down into a heap, the salty taste of his own blood filling his mouth.

Sensing victory, the werewolf moved back to Granny.

“Get away from her!”

A familiar voice rang in Zac's ears.

From nowhere, a tall stick figure leapt over Zac and strode toward Granny, a flashing spell knocking the werewolf back against the wall.

It was Gideon!

The werewolf circled him, its low growl intensifying into a howl, and went straight for Gideon's throat. But the Knight was too fast. He threw out his hand and entangled the werewolf in a magical web. Then, drawing a miniature crossbow from his coat, he fired a silver arrow at its heart. The werewolf exploded in a cloud of smoke and glowing cinder.

Gideon lifted Granny from the floor, and offered Zac a hand.

“Are you all right?” he said.

“I think so.”

Cornelius appeared at the door with Tom and Tilly. “The other werewolves have scarpered,” he said breathlessly.

“They won't be back,” replied Gideon. “I've taken care of their leader. Now, would someone care to tell me what in Nocturne is going on?”