Shana didn’t understand what she’d just heard. “I’m… sorry?” she asked, watching the crowd that had assembled to block her and her team. “Why do you want me to leave?”
The woman in front, who seemed to be the leader of the mob, glared at Shana. “Explanations are irrelevant,” she said. “Leave our city, Dreamer. And never return.”
“But I… I’m trying to help you!” Shana said. “Please, if I’m doing something wrong, help me understand. I spoke with the Artisan, and he —”
“The Artisan,” the woman said coldly, “does not speak for all of us.”
Shana scanned the mob, and she realized there wasn’t a single familiar face among them. Tio — the Artisan’s pupil, and the one who had guided her and Fae in their first visit to the city — was nowhere to be seen.
“Then please,” Shana said. “If I’m doing something wrong, let me know. I can change how I’m doing things, I can —”
“You intend to turn the Key, right?” asked a younger man directly behind the woman. She shot a glare his way, but while he flinched, he didn’t stop talking. “No matter what we say, you’re not going to budge on that. Because your sisters are involved, turning the other Keys. That’s the thing. We can’t let you turn the Key of the World, no matter what.”
“What’s up with that?” Kathryn asked, taking a step forward. “The Endless Night’s coming, in case you guys haven’t heard. The Key of the World is the only way to stop it!”
“The Waking World doesn’t matter to us, though,” the younger man said. He had a rather pleasant demeanor, and the way he spoke, he seemed like he was genuinely trying to get Shana to understand, rather than passing down any ultimatums.
But the woman in front, the leader, was having none of it. “There is nothing to discuss,” she said “Will you abide by us? Or do you intend to resist?”
Shana hesitated. Because at those questions, the entire mob shifted. There was a tension among them, and an unspoken threat. None carried pitchforks or torches, but they didn’t need to. Shana could feel their anger in the air, but also desperation, a total commitment to stopping Shana.
“The Waking World doesn’t matter to us, though.”
The words of the younger, pleasant man struck a chord with Shana. And she had an idea.
“If the Key of the World is turned here,” she said, “then… that will bring your city back to the Waking World. Won’t it? There’s something here, I… I don’t know the right word, but… that’s part of the deal. You sealed the Key away and hid, but once it’s turned again, then your city —”
“Cease your stalling,” the woman in the lead said. “This doesn’t need to get ugly. Just leave. And do not return.”
“I was intending to leave after a bit longer,” Shana said, offering a sympathetic smile. “But… I’m sorry. I… really do need to come back eventually. The Artisan said he’s counting on me. And I’m sure there are a lot of your neighbors and friends who are counting on me, too. And, personally… I’m really not inclined to submitting to intimidation. If we could talk this out, then maybe we could come to an agreement, but I’m not going to let one group in your city stop me from helping others who want my help.” She spread her hands in warm invitation. “So, please. Let’s sit down with everyone. Let’s hear all sides, and talk about this. You’re right: it doesn’t have to get ugly.”
“You’re committed to your course?” the woman asked, her glare not faltering.
Shana felt that tension in the air, that dread, that threat, intensify. She almost flinched back.
But she stood firm. She kept a smile on her face, kept hope in her gaze. “Yes,” she said with an earnestness she hoped could turn the tide.
It didn’t.
The woman lunged forward, hands shimmering with magical light. That was an unspoken signal that rippled through the mob, and on both sides of Shana’s team, on this small walkway, they all surged into motion, moving to attack them.
Shana flinched back. Kathryn started forward to protect her, but —
There was no need.
Shimmering white shields materialized in the air. The woman and the few others in the lead of the mob on either side were flung back, gently — so as not to send them careening off the walkway to a never-ending drop — but firmly.
While the members of the mob were dazed and shocked, Shana looked back at the center of her team, beaming with pride.
Shias.
He stood in the center, his pen Talisman in hand, gleaming with light. His eyes were fixed with focus, with thoughtfulness, but despite his narrowed gaze, there wasn’t anger or ferocity in them.
“She’s reaching out in good faith,” Shias said, his voice calm and soft, yet carrying well. “And she has no intention of harming anyone. She never would. If you can’t see that, then learn it, right now. She’ll never hurt you, any of you. If she can help everyone in this city, no matter how vastly different your opinions and desires are, she’ll do it. She won’t leave anyone behind.” Slowly, he lowered his pen, and the shields defending the team vanished. “But she’s not the only one here who won’t submit to intimidation or forceful tactics.”
The leader of the mob was the first to her feet, and she immediately lunged forward again. She was fast — blindingly fast. Shana was stunned, she hadn’t even had time to flinch at the sudden attack.
But Shias’ shields were faster. And though they were firm, not even wavering against the woman’s attack, they pushed her back gently, so that she didn’t fall into the endless sky below.
“Try explaining yourselves,” Shias said. “They say actions speak louder than words, but we’re the exception. Words go a lot further with us.”
“What could you possibly understand?” the woman spat, her glare full of fire.
But in that fire, Shana saw something new.
Fear.
Slowly, she watched the gathered crowd, studying their eyes. And one after the other, she saw the same thing.
Fear was in all their hearts. They were terribly, horribly afraid of what would happen if Shana turned the Key of the World.
Are they… afraid of going back to the Waking World?
And the moment the question went through Shana’s mind, she found the answer.
A dream… is meant to be woken from. But…
…not everyone wants to wake up.
Shana bowed her head. Slowly, letting her emotions flood into her words, she spoke. “The previous Dreamer lost himself in the Dream. The Dream became his reality, his only way of clinging to life at —”
“Stow your words!” the woman said with fire in her eyes. “They mean nothing!”
“…his only way of clinging to life at all,” Shana continued. “I don’t know for sure if he was afraid of being woken up, but I could understand if he was. For him, awakening was… death. He died, but he let the Dream allow him to believe that never happened. Even so, clinging to the Dream led to so much sadness, destruction, and ruin. He hurt and killed so many, all in the name of righteous causes, but he never truly did any of the good that he started off wanting to do. The Dream… is captivating.” Shana raised her gaze, locking eyes with the woman who glared so viciously — and so fearfully — at her. “It’s easy to lose sight of the Waking World. Especially when you’ve been living in the Dream longer than I’ve even been alive. It’s easy to fear what’ll happen if you finally wake up. But… it’s okay. You don’t have to be afraid.”
She finished with the words that had been such a balm for so many in Grimoire, that had been the final piece that helped assuage their fears, purify their Nightmares, and allow them to sleep peacefully — and wake up peacefully the next day.
They were words that meant so much to her. She’d faced so much fear on her journey. She knew fear, she knew it deeply and painfully.
But if she could conquer her fears, if she could escape their hold on her, then that gave her hope that everyone else could —
“You know nothing,” the woman said, standing. She continued to glare at Shana, her anger never wavering. “We aren’t afraid. We know all too well the dangers of Nightmares, the terror of the Nightmare Road, the power of fear. We wholly reject it at every turn. If you think that is what ails us, then you have nothing to offer. But we never came here to bargain.” She turned away. “If you return, Dreamer, know that we will stand against you. Far more forcefully next time.” She started away, and the mob followed.
“Wait!” Shana said, taking a step forward. The woman stopped on the stairs, eyeing Shana coldly over her shoulder. “What’s your name?”
The woman was silent for long enough that Shana thought she wouldn’t reply. Then, she said, “Yuryo.” She turned away, and went up the stairs, her cohort leaving with her.
Yuryo…
“Bunch of jerks,” Kathryn muttered once the crowd had left. “What’s the deal? If you’ve got a problem, explain it! Don’t just go and attack people!”
“It seemed like… they were afraid,” Rae said. Her phone was clutched in her hand, from which dangled her Talisman, a charm of Reginald Feline Meowmont III.
“You thought so, too?” Shana asked, looking at Rae. Rae nodded.
“It didn’t seem like all of them were on the same page,” Annabelle said. “That man, for starters. He seemed willing to explain things.”
“But he was still determined to stop us,” Shana said, sighing. And then, she looked brightly at Shias. He caught her gaze, and as she smiled, he smirked and nodded once, an invitation. Shana dashed over to him, tackling him in a tight hug. “You were totally amazing! Thank you for protecting us!”
“I’m just glad I could help,” Shias said, hugging Shana back. “You were the awesome one. Despite how things went, I think your words did strike a chord with her.”
“You think so?” Shana asked, pulling back slightly so she could look at Shias’ face.
Shias nodded. “Her second attack was a lot more desperate than the first. Almost like she was fighting against herself. Trying to force herself to stop listening to you.”
“You guys pick up on the smallest things,” Ben said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I dunno. All I got out of this was that when it’s time to turn the Key, we should just be really fast and avoid anyone that we saw in that mob.”
“That’s a valid approach,” Shana said. “But I’d like to try and reach them. To understand them.” She looked at Heart, who, in all the commotion, had ended up holding Altair. The little blue pup was, surprisingly, fast asleep, his legs draped over Heart’s arms, his head cradled in her elbow, snoozing away. Shana smirked and nuzzled Altair’s nose with a knuckle. “You left everything to Shias, huh? Of course. You know how trustworthy he is.” She then looked up at Heart. “What do you think? Was there anything you could see from them that we can’t? Any ideas of how to help them? Or do you know anything about the city that might help?”
“It might be wise to consult with the Artisan once more,” Heart said. “You may be right that turning the Key will, in and of itself, return this city to the Waking World. Even if that doesn’t do it, you and I will have to awaken this city and all of its inhabitants eventually. They cannot remain in Dreamworld forever.”
Shana nodded. “A dream is meant to be woken from,” she murmured.
“If only we could go to the Library of Solitude,” Annabelle said. “The Dream Forge is there, and we learned from Mother’s journal that she knows far more about the Dreamer’s Heart and Dreamworld than I ever would have guessed. Perhaps she knows something about the Palette in the Clouds. And if not, there’s a good chance there’s a book or two on the subject.”
“We can’t risk leaving Alexandra’s, though, can we?” Rae asked. “It’s important that we stay safe and hidden, and that we don’t compromise their mission. I know we haven’t been ordered to stay put, so technically we can do whatever we like, but…”
“But we can’t just do whatever we like,” Kathryn said, nodding. “Everything we do impacts other people. We’ve gotta be careful about how we go about handling things.”
“I wonder…” Heart murmured, gazing thoughtfully at the sky above.
“What is it?” Shana asked.
Heart hummed thoughtfully for a moment, then shook her head. “I’m sorry. Please give me some more time to think on it. I feel as if I am on the verge of an idea, but not quite there yet. It’s in a delicate state, and I don’t wish to tip things the wrong way.”
Shana smiled. “Just make sure to speak up when you figure it out, okay?” she asked.
“Oh, of course,” Heart said with a smile.
Altair stirred sleepily, and Shana leaned in close, eyeing him with a smug smirk. “Have a nice nap?” she asked. “You’re all cozy with Heart, huh? And here I am, feeling totally left out by my most faithful friend —”
Altair was in her arms in an instant, pawing at her chest, licking her face, wagging his tail. Shana laughed, kissing him and petting him all over. “That’s more like it,” she said, once Altair settled into her arms. “You’re a bit of a cuddle-bug today, huh?”
“Not like you’re gonna complain about it,” Kathryn said.
Shana grinned. “Nope!”
They decided to head up to the city proper, back to the scattered crowds and public places where they were less likely to be aggressively confronted, and started towards the Artisan’s house. That was the best place to go for more information, but Shana made a decision along the way.
“I’m not going to complain about Yuryo,” she said.
“Why not?” Kathryn asked. “If the Artisan’s got authority, he could at least get her thrown in jail, get her out of the way so when we need to do our thing, it’s easier. Then, when the city’s back in the Waking World, she can be free.”
“Maybe, but I don’t want to do that,” Shana said. “I want to treat with her in good faith, no matter how she decides to treat me.”
“Yeah, that sounds like you,” Kathryn said. She chuckled. “All right. I’ll follow your lead.”
Shana smiled. “Thanks.”
When they reached his home, Tio let them in. The Artisan was busy painting away, cackling like a madman, paint splattering all over the place as he wielded his paintbrush like a machete in the deepest of jungles.
“Sir!” Tio called out, clearly embarrassed. “Sir, the Dreamer has returned!”
“The Dreamer has returned!” the Artisan proclaimed triumphantly. “Right you are, Tio. That’s the perfect title for this piece! Thank you!”
“Sir, no, I mean — oh, you’re welcome.” Tio shook his head, looking as if he was about to die of embarrassment. Shana laughed softly, and then waited with her team patiently as the Artisan worked his mad genius. At least, Shana thought it was mad genius. She couldn’t really make out any meaning with the vast array of paintings scattered on the floor or plastered on the walls, but she’d never been very moved by impressionist or abstract visual art.
I don’t really get it, but that’s okay. It sure does make him happy to go crazy like that. Why ruin the fun?
Only when the Artisan was finished did he seem to come out of a manic trance, slowly pulling back, eyeing his work. “Yes… yes… yes!” He held his paintbrush to the sky in triumph. “Not perfection, no, but nothing is! But I can be proud of this one, proud indeed!” He turned, then, and raised an eyebrow as he saw Tio. “Tio? You’re here? What’s the matter? Has something happened? You’re not due for the next lesson yet.”
“No, sir, like I was trying to say earlier…” Tio said, unable to look the Artisan in the eye. He gestured feebly to Shana’s team.
The Artisan’s gaze slowly followed that gesture, reaching Shana. His eyes widened, and a moment later he leapt down from his step-ladder and holstered his brush. “The Dreamer has returned!” he proclaimed.
“As I said…” Tio muttered weakly.
“Hello,” Shana said, smiling. “It’s good to see you again.”
“And I hold the same fondness at seeing you again!” the Artisan said. He surveyed her team. “Ah, but you’ve brought new companions!”
“They’re my team,” Shana said proudly. “The Dawn Riders.” And she introduced them each in turn, giving special attention to Shias.
“And what can I do for the illustrious Dawn Riders?” the Artisan asked, giving a low, dramatic bow.
“I was wondering about the Key of the World,” Shana said. “You’ve asked me to return your city to the Waking World once we turn the Key. But could it be that the Key turning itself will do the work?”
“Ah, you inspected the shrine,” the Artisan said. He wiped his hands on his smock, though so much paint was dried on his fingers, it didn’t do much good. “We took advantage of the Key’s previous turning, a remaining echo of its power, to escape, to hide, to properly seal it here in the Dreamworld. At its next turning, it will indeed begin our journey home. But that is the key word: begin. The work cannot be completed without the Dreamer to guide us. Without you, when the Key turns, we will be voyagers without a chart. We will easily end up lost in the spaces between, or in Otherwhere, or the Void. Never to find our way home again. You, noble Dreamer, are our singular hope of returning to the Waking World.”
“And you want to return to the Waking World,” Shana said.
“With all my heart,” the Artisan said. “The Dreamworld is enticing, certainly. But it is not our home. And how can one ever feel truly at peace when they are not where they belong?”
“Do you think everyone else in the city feels the same?” Shana asked.
“I would be shocked if there was a consensus,” the Artisan said, much to Shana’s surprise. For all his manic energy and eccentricities, he was a sharp one. “I am certain there are those who wish to remain in Dreamworld forever. There may even be those who would vehemently oppose our Waking. That is the danger of our exile. We came here to protect the Key, and that is a great, magnificent duty. It is an honor to defend and enshrine the Key of the World. But Dreams are enticing, aren’t they? You frequently go between Dreaming and Waking, and that is good. Those of us here, living in the Dream all this time… that is not so good.”
“I’m… curious,” Shias said, stepping forward. “If you are Dreaming, are your bodies still in the Waking World somewhere? Is there a physical city that you came from back there?”
“An astute question!” the Artisan said, smiling. “The Key of the World is more magnificent than any can imagine. With any other power, we would indeed be as you would expect — physical bodies in the Waking World, and our consciousnesses here in the Dream. But that is not what happened. For, you see… I was born in Dreamworld.”
Shana was taken aback. They all must have been, for silence reigned in the Artisan’s home for several long moments.
“Yes,” the Artisan said, nodding sagely. “That is the response I expected. My predecessor died here in the Dreamworld. And he did not remain, Dreaming forever. He has truly passed on, as all should in their dying. We were, well and truly, transported physically to the Dreamworld. We still age, we still grow, we are not trapped in a static state. But that is further reminder that this is not our home. We are fully removed from the Waking World. But to it we must return, when the time comes.”
“But what about the people who don’t want to wake up?” Shana asked. “What if… what if they fight to keep Dreaming?”
“Then we shall fight to bring them home,” the Artisan said. His voice was surprisingly firm, and there was steel in his gaze. “They may even raise arms to try and kill us, those who would strive for Waking. But we will not kill in kind. As long as I draw breath, none of us shall kill each other, no matter how much emotions flare or fears engulf.”
“That’s… all well and good,” Shana said, bowing her head. “But isn’t there a better way? Can’t we find a way to reach those who are afraid, to help soothe their fears, to prepare them for what’s to come so there won’t be a fight?”
The Artisan’s eyes brightened. “If anyone can find a way, it would be the Dreamer,” he said, looking from Shana to Heart, “and the Dreamer’s Heart. Would it not?”
“Indeed,” Heart said, inclining her head.
And that put an idea in Shana’s mind. “Do you still sleep, even though you’re here?” she asked.
“We… have something akin to sleep,” the Artisan said.
“It’s strange,” Tio said, speaking up with a bit more confidence now that the Artisan had settled into a far less embarrassing demeanor. “It feels somewhat between waking and sleeping. Like… you’re still conscious.”
“Tio remembers proper sleep,” the Artisan said with a smile. “He was alive when the Key was last turned, when the decision was made to come to Dreamworld.”
“But didn’t you say you were born here?” Shana asked, pointing at the Artisan. Tio didn’t look much older than Caleb, but the Artisan looked twice that. “But… I thought you… and he looks…”
The Artisan burst into a hearty laugh. “Oh, you don’t quite understand Enchanted!” he said. “Age for us is not measured by time. Tio has lived longer than me. But I am indeed his elder.”
“Huh?” Shana, Kathryn, and Ben all asked at the same time.
“We all age at different speeds,” Annabelle said, chiming in. “Isabelle and I have both lived much longer than Gwen has, but she is our elder. Despite all the years we’ve lived, we’re still children.”
“But that’s like… thousands of years, right?” Shana asked, her head spinning. “I mean, you’ve lived for thousands of years, right?”
“Yes,” Annabelle said with a simple nod. And Shana saw a smile, a smile that Annabelle was clearly trying to hide. She was enjoying this.
“But then… so there are Enchanted who look like elderly men but are actually younger than you?” Shana asked.
“No,” Annabelle said. “You’re misunderstanding it. You’re still looking at age from a Human perspective. I am a child. Gwen is an adult. Time doesn’t define that. Gwen is ‘older’ than me, in Enchanted terms, even though she hasn’t lived as long. And, technically, you are also older than me, Shana.”
And now Shana’s head was really spinning. “Okay…” she said, trailing off, trying to grasp it all.
“We’re getting off-track here,” Shias said, placing a gentle hand on Shana’s shoulder. “I’ll help you with it later.”
“You’re taking this way too calmly!” Shana protested.
Shias just smiled. “Back to the topic at hand — Tio, what do you mean by sleep here being in-between waking and sleeping?”
“I think it’s because we’re physically within Dreamworld,” Tio said. “It’s some sort of paradox —”
“Tio, don’t use that useless word!” the Artisan said, throwing a paintbrush at Tio, who ducked as if he was used to such an outburst. “ ‘Paradox’ is a word for small-minded individuals who give up trying to make sense of things, who can’t humbly accept that they do not fully understand, and thus arrogantly assign a lofty term to proclaim their understanding. This is no paradox! It is unprecedented, certainly. But the Key of the World has brought us here, and being here has not destroyed the fabric of reality. It has not destroyed us. It is different, it is strange, it is very difficult to understand, and I do not fully understand it, but it is what it is. Do not assign such a definite term to something you know you do not fully comprehend.”
“Our presence in Dreamworld,” Tio continued the moment the Artisan finished, as if he’d heard the exact speech before, “must affect how we sleep. How can one sleep in a world that can only be accessed in sleep? How can one be truly awake in such a world, either? I believe that seeming contradiction impacts how we sleep. We do not… well, it doesn’t seem to me that we fully sleep. We pass into a restful state, and then come out of it. But we remain at least partially conscious during that time.”
“So you don’t dream, or have… nightmares?” Shana asked.
“Not that I know or have heard of,” Tio said.
“You’ll get the same answer from me,” the Artisan said. “If I dream, then I certainly have no recollection of it. To dream within a dream… that would be fascinating, though, wouldn’t it?”
It would. But Shana had been looking for a different sort of clue, one that, at least for now, she was coming up empty on.
“Would you be all right with me visiting more in the future?” Shana asked. “I would like to spend more time with the people here. Get to know them, talk with them, get a sense of different people’s hopes and dreams, all of that.”
“Oh, you’ll find no shortage of hopes and dreams here, my dear,” the Artisan said with a laugh. “You’re more than welcome, of course.”
Shana thanked him and Tio, and after a bit more scattered conversation — the Artisan was quite a talker — she and her team left the Artisan’s home. As she stood at the top of the steps looking down at the rest of the city…
She saw Yuryo.
Just for a moment. And from a distance, so it was hard to fully gauge her expression.
But that was her. And she was watching Shana. After a moment, she ducked behind a building, and Shana couldn’t see her anymore.
Yuryo…
They’d spent enough time in the city for now, though. Shana was even more conscious of making sure she didn’t spend too long in Dreamworld now after these conversations, and with Heart’s guidance, they found their way out of the city, and then exited Dreamworld and woke up once more in Alexandra’s home.
“You okay?” Kathryn asked, giving Shana’s hand a squeeze.
“Yeah,” Shana said, sitting up on the bed, nodding once. “I’m… fired up. I want to try and help them somehow. However I can. And I don’t have to just wait around until we turn the Key to do it.”
“Their struggle is with fear,” Rae said.
“That’s right!” Shana said. “So… it only makes sense that we’d be the ones to rescue them out of it.”