Chapter 5: Abba-dread

The school day seemed like it would never end for Windslow.  He had fallen asleep before Hillary come back home the night before. Still, he was tired and had trouble concentrating in class. Earlier that morning, Hillary told him she had followed the wizards’ instructions for the dream-slip bands. Twice at school Windslow saw Hillary and Jimmy arguing in the hallway. Neither would tell him anything. He assumed it was boyfriend and girlfriend stuff. He was glad he didn’t have a girlfriend, unless it was Alannah.  She knew all about insects and could hit a baseball farther than all the guys.

On the ride home, Hillary took a chance and passed Windslow one of the rubber bands. Other than being green, it looked like the black one that kept Hillary from being dream-snatched the first time they dreamed their way to Gabendoor. Windslow gave a silent nod to his sister and slipped the band around his wrist.

They both headed for bed early that evening, anxious to dream-slip.  Windslow knew from their last adventure that batteries didn’t work in Gabendoor so he didn’t bother packing anything that used them.  He wasn’t sure what to take and didn’t want to pack too much.  Everything he put into his magic book bag would shrink along with it, but the weight would add up.  He chose carefully, deciding on rope, a notepad and pencil, his Swiss army knife, and a slingshot.  After checking to see if Hillary was ready, he headed for bed.

#

Windslow didn’t remember falling asleep.  He drifted upward, ever so slowly easing his way through the blueberry and silver-gray clouds of nighttime.  Soon, the clouds were far away and the moon close as the sky rushed back to blanket the round blue globe he knew was earth. The stars greeted him with twinkling dots of light that turned to streaks of silver as the speed of his dream-slip quickened. He flew with arms outstretched, past Cassiopeia, onward toward the constellation Andromeda and its spiral galaxy. He only meant to blink his eyes; to rest them for a moment. They stayed closed.  He wasn’t sure how long.

Windslow breathed in the sweet cool air that blew gently on his face while he listened to the rhythmic sounds from waves playing a lazy game of tag with sand along a shoreline.  The breeze held a slight sent of raspberry and mint. It made him think of the cold drinks his grandmother used to make.

“It’s about time,” Haggerwolf said.  The tallest of the three wizards leaned over. His long white beard nearly touched Windslow’s face. “Where’s Hillary?”

“I don’t know,” Windslow answered as he sat up.  “We both went to bed at the same time.  I guess I must have fallen asleep faster.  Where are we?”

“Lake Shimmerdawn,” Larkstone said. “My cottage is just up the path. We’ve been waiting for you two. Things are terribly wrong.”

“I knew it,” Windslow said.  “I had a dream about her.  I told Hillary and she was worried, but then some other stuff happened with a trundle-wraith and--”

“What?” Fernbark asked.  “Who are you talking about? Is Hillary in trouble?”

“No, not her. I meant Molly.  Molly Folly Sallyforth.  I had a dream about her.  What are you guys talking about?”

“Everybody slow down,” a voice called from behind them.

“Hillary!” all three wizards said and ran to where she sat at the edge of the raspberry bushes a few yards back from the lake.

“How come you weren’t that excited to see me?” Windslow asked. He tried to stand but couldn’t. The best he could do was twist around and look toward Hillary and the wizards.

“Let’s straighten this all out,” Hillary said. She stood up, slung her backpack over one shoulder, and brushed off her pants.  “Windslow dreamed that Molly is in trouble. That’s all we know about that.  We got your message a little late.  We had some trouble back home. We think it was a trundle-wraith; the one Fistlock used last time. Now tell us about the trouble here in Gabendoor.  Fernbark, you go first.”

“Ah-hum,” Fernbark said, clearing his throat.  “It’s Gristle-tooth. Well, really it’s Bitterbrun.  You see, he.  I mean Gristle-tooth is almost free.  And it’s because of him.  Um… Bitterbrun.  He--”

“Who’s that!” Haggerwolf shouted.  He pointed past Windslow.

The air shimmered at the shoreline, outlining the prone body of a sleeping boy.  The image wavered, nearly filling in before turning transparent again.

“Whoever it is, he isn’t wearing his band right.  He’s got it around his fingers!” Larkstone yelled, as he ran toward the figure.  “We’ve got to fix it.”

Fernbark reached the boy first.  When the image briefly filled in, Fernbark grabbed for the band, trying to slip it over the boy’s hand. Held fast in the boy’s grip, the band broke and the image vanished.

“Jimmy!” Hillary screamed. “It was Jimmy Heart.”

“What was he doing, dream-slipping?” Windslow yelled.  “Hey, somebody help me up. I can’t stand.”

Hillary knelt beside Larkstone, while Haggerwolf and Fernbark helped Windslow to his feet.

“Here. This will help. Just like last time,” Haggerwolf said. He moved his magic wand along Windslow’s back.  “You need to strengthen your muscles again.  Now who is Jimmy Heart?”

“He’s a friend of ours from back on earth,” Hillary said.  “He must have scritched a band when he saved me from the trundle-wraith.  I wonder if he saw anything?  Is he just having a normal dream now? He’ll be all right, won’t he?”

“I’m afraid not,” Larkstone said. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have pulled so hard.  I didn’t mean to break it.  I’m sorry, Hillary.”

“Sorry about what?”

“I’m afraid he’s on his way to Abba-dread, dear,” Haggerwolf said.

Hillary spun around and looked at the old wizard.  “Where’s Abba-dread?”

“A lair in the Time-Mist ruled by Aghasta the sylph.  A place people rarely come back from, except Riddle-Quip Sallyforth, Molly’s father.  He hid his home in the Time-Mist and somehow protected it from Aghasta. That’s why no one has ever been able to find his library.  Only Molly and her sisters know how to get there.”

“Will Jimmy be in danger?” Hillary asked.  She nearly stumbled in the soft sand as she moved quickly to Haggerwolf. “Will he dream-slip there every night?”

“He won’t exactly be dream-slipping,” Fernbark said. He walked up to Hillary and tried to put his arm around her. Hillary shrugged it off. “He won’t be fully awake in your world. Sometimes he’ll seem like he is, but most of his consciousness will be in the Time-Mist.  If Aghasta catches him, she’ll trap his mind there permanently.”

“What do you mean, his mind?” Windslow asked. Walking a bit shaky, he moved to his sister’s side and took her hand.  “Jimmy’s got to wake up on earth.  People who don’t wake up are in comas.”

Haggerwolf shrugged. “It’s not a coma, but close to it.”

“I’m sorry about your friend,” Fernbark said.  “But the whole world of Gabendoor is in danger.  It needs you two and the book. Did you bring it?”

“Here,” Windslow said and handed his book bag to the wizard.  While Fernbark enlarged the bag and removed the Book of Broken Promises, Windslow squeezed his sister’s hand.  “Don’t worry,” he told her.  “I’ll find a way to help Jimmy.  If we can figure out a way to find Molly, she’ll help us too.  I’ll get Jimmy back for you. I promise.”

“OW!” Fernbark shouted and dropped the book. “It got hot.  It nearly burned my hands.”

Both Hillary and Windslow knelt in front of the book as the three wizards crowded together behind them.  All five watched. The book opened and new words appeared on the blank pages.

Windslow read the words out loud.

Is this one you’ll keep or break?

For each there is a price to weigh.

Beware the cost of what’s at stake.

It might be one you cannot pay.

#

Fistlock’s eyes fluttered and opened. After a quick glance to either side, he scrambled to his feet, grabbed the potato sack he had filled with supplies, and ducked behind a tree.  “Finally,” he said and peered around the trunk.  Nothing looked familiar.  He was glad Angstrom had managed to grab one dream-slip band from that meddlesome Summerfield girl.  Dream-slipping back to Gabendoor was just the first step.  Now he needed to create a portal so he could come back permanently. To do that, he’d need a laboratory and equipment. His only other option was a journey-wind.  But that wouldn’t be possible. He couldn’t create one himself when he was only here in a dream-slip. He undid the small twist in the dream-slip band around his wrist.  Using it that way was risky, but he didn’t want to end up traveling to the same place the girl and her brother would go to.

Venturing out from behind the tree, Fistlock tried to get his bearings.  From the position of the early morning sun, he could tell which direction was north, but he still had no idea of where he was.  Shadow-bark Forest was his best guess. The ancient trees, with wrinkled, cinnamon colored bark and moss laden lower branches matched the descriptions he had heard others talk about. Even the plant colors seemed right.  Dark, gray-greens mixed with blue-black shadows, gave the whole place a gloomy mood he liked.

He settled on finding a somber-wood tree as his first challenge. Everything would be easier once he found the rare wood he needed for a magic wand. If he really was in Shadow-bark, it wouldn’t take him long with a bit of luck.  After an hour of wandering his luck came, but not in the form he expected. “Bitterbrun,” Fistlock whispered when he heard the familiar whistling. He ducked behind a giant fern and waited.

Fistlock’s first thought was to rush out from hiding. On second thought, he stayed hidden until his portly ex-assistant passed by.  Staying out of sight, Fistlock followed behind, using chunks of bark to mark the trail.  He congratulated himself on his choice of clothing for his dream-slip.  Other than Bermuda shorts and Hawaiian shirts, the blue jogging pants and black sweatshirt he now wore were his favorite earth clothes.  The dark colors helped him blend into the shadows of the forest and let him move easily from tree to tree.  He made a note to himself to buy a pair of the tennis shoes that Angstrom favored.  The fluffy bunny slippers Fistlock wore now were comfortable for use around his earth house.  They did help him walk silently through the woods, but the pink fur kept picking up bits of stick and bark that ended up working their way inside his slippers.  Twice when he stopped to clean them out, he nearly lost sight of Bitterbrun.

Judging from the sun, it was past noon when Bitterbrun finally stopped at the base of a large tree and moved his hands along the bark.  A door opened in the trunk and Bitterbrun disappeared inside. After waiting a few minutes, Fistlock tiptoed to the tree and searched until he found the small button that would open Bitterbrun’s hideaway.

#

Jimmy’s heart thumped hard. He tried to sit up but his muscles ignored him.  He felt paralyzed and could only watch the image of Hillary, Windslow and the three bearded old men fade in and out. One of the men moved toward him. Jimmy wanted to run or strike out and push the man away.  He couldn’t do anything and tried to shut his eyes, but even they wouldn’t cooperate.

He felt the snap when the rubber band around his fingers broke.  In the same instant, the images disappeared with a whoosh of air. Certain he was having a nightmare, Jimmy twisted back and forth, trying to break free from the dream. On his third try, his body lurched. He tried to scream when he felt himself tumble.  No sounds came from his open mouth, and nothing stopped his fall.

After a while his breathing settled and Jimmy looked around.  Realizing he wasn’t really falling, he felt better.  He simply floated in dust colored mist.  Everything above him, below him, and to both sides was the same; a gray fog.  He tried turning and found that by swinging his arms or legs he could spin, summersault, and twist in about any direction. The only things he couldn’t do were feel anything or see anything, so he simply waved his arms and moved forward by making swimming motions.

He was beginning to enjoy this part of his strange dream when his head bonked into something solid.  Just as suddenly, the fog drew back revealing the towering grandfather clock that had stopped his fog swim. His own yell startled him when his floating ended and he thumped to the soft moss two feet underneath him.

“Hello?” Jimmy called and scrambled to his feet. “Hillary?  Windslow?” He listened for an answer, but the only sound he heard was loud ticking.

Twice the height and width of a normal grandfather clock, this one ticked each time the long wooden pendulum stopped its swing in one direction to sway back to the other side.

The fog hadn’t completely gone.  It had drawn back to expose a fifty foot circle around Jimmy and the clock.  Curious, Jimmy walked around the timepiece.  Made of a dark polished wood, the clock’s back was simply smooth flat boards, just like its sides. In front, there wasn’t any glass covering the opening to the inside where the pendulum swung.

“Not much of a clock,” Jimmy said softly as he stood back to examine it again.   The shape was simple and familiar, he thought.  Not fancy like the one his grandparents had with lots of carvings. This one was almost rectangular. The clock face was plain too; a white dial with black hands and numbers. The boxy shape did have a slight taper to it. The widest part was at the clock face. The sides narrowed slightly, both toward the top and bottom.  Jimmy scratched his head, but stopped when he recognized the shape.

“It’s a coffin,” he said almost silently.

GONG

Jimmy jumped at the sound. The clock hands pointed at 1:01.  He hadn’t expected it to sound.

GONG

The mist drew back another fifty feet. Jimmy moved close to the clock. It was the only thing to hide behind if he needed to. Even though he could see farther, nothing had changed. All Jimmy could see was fog and soft mossy ground.

GONG

The mist drew back again, exposing a small pond of stagnant water, covered with a film of light green algae.

GONG!

The pond filled with moss and rushes.  The ground grew firmer and wildflowers sprang up.

GONG!

Trees with trunks no thicker than Jimmy’s arm filled the space.  Their tops barely reached the fog ceiling.

GONG!

The fog dome turned dark and the air humid.  Jimmy couldn’t see the far side of the clearing anymore. The trees blocked his view. Their massive trunks were too broad for him to put his arms around.

GONG!

Jimmy didn’t wait to see what changed this time. He turned and faced the clock. “Stop it!” he screamed.  He reached for the pendulum, grabbed, and pulled.