Compass of Dreams Read online

  “Who are the Others?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “They are the Others,” he said. “Those who know the Passing.”

  “The psychopomps,” I said.

  His smile froze for a moment, then transformed into a laugh. “I don’t believe it,” he said. “Have the Lilys been teaching you?” He took a step closer. He was tall with a wiry frame and long, sinewy arms. On his chest was a coat of arms with the letters “I” and “U” in the center.

  “What do you want?” I asked him.

  Just then, far away, I heard the neighing of a horse. An urgent need to defend the Enchanted Emporium rose within me.

  Askell must have heard it too. “What are you waiting for?” he said with a grin. “The Big Book of Magical Objects is in danger, and you’re just standing here chatting with me?”

  “Leave Aiby out of this,” I said.

  Semueld took a step closer. “Or you’ll do what?” he challenged.

  I clenched my fists. “Or I’ll send you to the other world.”

  He leaned over me with relentless slowness and a fixed grin. Patches’s furious barking could have woken up the whole county.

  “Be very careful, McPhee,” Semueld Askell said, stressing each syllable. “Being the defender of the Enchanted Emporium is never a safe job . . .”

  He lifted his finger and rested it on my temple. As he did, I saw a crack open in his cold right eye. It looked like lightning emerging from within the eye of a storm.

  He backed away and slipped his arm into the Cloak of Mirrors. Slowly, he pulled out the High Voltage sign that I’d dropped earlier in the week. He opened his palm, releasing the sign. It floated in the air between us.

  “Fatal if touched,” he whispered, speaking the words like an incantation. The tin-plated sign began to spin like a blade.

  “Patches, go!” I called out, running at full speed down the road. All I could think of was reaching my bike as quickly as possible. I heard a whirring sound following me, and I somehow knew that sign he’d thrown would relentlessly pursue whomever had touched it. Me.

  Patches leaped into my backpack and I jumped onto the saddle. I stood up on the pedals and pushed as hard as I could. The bike raced down the road.

  I turned to look behind me. The sign was hissing in pursuit, hovering about eight inches above the ground. I thought of nothing but escape. I took the coastal road toward Reginald Bay, knowing I had to get there before Adele Babele.

  Even though I felt stiff, achy, and trapped within my own body, I pedaled like a madman. My legs pumped with every ounce of strength I had.

  I pedaled. And pedaled. My jaw began to hurt from clenching my teeth. I heard the chain whir as it raced over the chain ring’s teeth.

  I climbed the long hill like it was nothing, left the county, rounded the first and second corners, passed the Cumai mill (and the stream where I loved to go fishing), and kept pedaling down the coastal road.

  The pain became almost unbearable, so I distracted myself by thinking about what I had just heard: the agreement to destroy the Lily family, the summoning of Green Jack, and how he searched for Magic Souls and challenged their owners to a game of blackjack. Had he played old lady Cumai, and won? Did that mean she’d had a Magic Soul?

  I finally reached the top of the longest climb and launched into the downhill section that separated me from Reginald Bay. I passed through the ridge, still pedaling furiously, and started the long descent toward the bay.

  I increased my speed. I saw the first corner a hundred yards ahead at the bottom of the descent. The wind slapped at my cheeks, and I saw the sea sparkling as it scrolled along to my left. I thought back to all the different kinds of beaches down there — the stony ones, the sandy ones, and the one with that giant pile of seaweed . . .

  Gasping for breath, I turned around to check if the sign had exhausted its energy yet. Surprisingly, it was no longer following me. I stopped pedaling and allowed myself to coast for a moment as I considered what to tell Aiby when I arrived at the Enchanted Emporium. I wasn’t quite sure what to say, since I’d first seen the colored beetles fall from Adele’s hair in the shop, but hadn’t told Aiby about it because I’d been too worried about my pants.

  And then, as if I’d snapped back to reality, I realized I was riding down the road at breakneck speed. The curve was right ahead and I didn’t have time to apply the brakes.

  I heard the unmistakable notes of You Can Dance by ABBA permeate the fresh morning air. Then I saw Jules’s red van turning the corner like a red lightning bolt . . . and he was headed right for me.

  I knew it would happen eventually. Sooner or later, Jules would run someone over. I just hadn’t expected that someone would be me.

  Jules didn’t even brake. In his defense, there wasn’t enough time. He turned the van just enough to avoid hitting me head on, but the side of his van still clipped my bike. Before I knew it, I was airborne.

  As Patches and I flew through the air like two clumsy bullets, I realized it was the second time that I’d been airborne that week. I recalled the fall I’d experienced with Locan Lily from the mountains of Shangri-La while searching for the Flowers of Vertigo. I’d fallen through the air for what seemed like an eternity . . .

  The incident with Jules didn’t last nearly that long. You know how they tell you that when you are about to die, you see your whole life flash before your eyes? Like a movie? Well, the truth is that there wasn’t nearly enough time. A mere moment after being thrown from the saddle, I found myself smashing into the beach I had just been thinking about. Luckily, Patches fell on a pile of seaweed and bounced back to his feet like some kind of athletic stuffed animal.

  I, however, fell on the stones.

  And I died.

  “Finley? Finley, can you hear me?” It was Aiby. I could hear her quite clearly, but I had no idea how. I couldn’t see anything. Rather, there was nothing at all to see.

  I was surrounded by darkness. It consumed me. I felt it pressing against my skin.

  Where am I? I wondered. And why do I hear Aiby’s voice? Weirder still, I could hear my thoughts out loud, as if they were spoken.

  What the heck is happening? I thought.

  Then I saw myself waking up. At dawn. I went into my bathroom and I looked in the mirror. The beard, Finley, came a dim voice. Do you remember when you realized you were growing a beard?

  I remember it, Grandma, I thought.

  Think again, my grandmother whispered. It wasn’t a beard. It was something more.

  Great, I thought in the darkness. The only thing worse than a voice inside your head is a voice inside your head that only speaks in riddles.

  I can’t stay for much longer, Finley, my grandma said. Soon I’ll have to leave.

  Where? I thought.

  There are many curious things about this side of existence, the voice whispered.

  Well now it all makes sense, Grandma, I thought sarcastically.

  Enough with the jokes, Finley, Grandma said. Time to wake up!

  I don’t want to “wake up,” I thought. I want to stay here with you.

  But it didn’t really feel like a choice. I wondered if I really did make my own choices, or if something else just told me what to do all the time. Could I choose for myself?

  Not this time, came her soft voice. And then Grandma left me.

  “Finley, please . . . can you open your eyes?” I knew that voice, too.

  Only one way to find out, I thought.

  So I opened my eyes. There was Aiby. She was beneath me somehow. I watched her from above, as if I had grown to an enormous size, or like she’d become much smaller. But she was still the Aiby I knew, tall and thin, and gesturing with her hands every time she spoke.

  We were on a beach. In fact, I recognized it as Beach #8, the one with the seaweed pile.

  “Can you see me?�
�� Aiby asked.

  “Yes I see you,” I said. “What are you doing way down there?”

  “How are you?” she asked.

  How am I? I wondered. I didn’t really know yet. “Achy,” I replied. “Super sore.” I tried to move, but couldn’t.

  She nodded gravely. “Stay still, if you can,” she said. “I think it’s better if you don’t move.”

  “Agreed,” I said. “I think I’ve been in an accident.”

  I saw movement, and realized that it wasn’t just me and her on the beach. Mr. Lily, pale as a ghost and with a bandaged arm, was leaning on Meb. My brother was right behind them. I didn’t understand what they were doing here and why they all seemed so far away.

  “Aiby,” I said. “What’s going on?”

  She hugged me. This time, it felt completely different. It was like she wasn’t really embracing me. I didn’t feel her body close to mine, like before. I felt something different and deeper that made my feet tingle.

  “It’s okay, Finley,” she said. “It’s all right.”

  “The book!” I cried. “Adele Babele has hidden her tiny beetle thieves inside the shop and . . .”

  She hugged me even tighter. “Yes, Finley,” she said. “We discovered it.”

  “And how did you do that?” I asked.

  “It was Jules,” she said. “After he hit you, he drove back to the shop and got there just as Adele’s carriage arrived. He honked wildly and Meb and I rushed out, catching her — and her beetles — in the act.”

  “Did you get the book back?” I asked.

  “Sure did!” she said. “It’s safe inside the Enchanted Emporium. You don’t have to worry about that now.”

  I nodded. Or, rather, I tried to nod. “I met Semueld Askell, and . . .”

  I had to stop. It was too hard to talk and breathe at the same time. I felt like my lungs were filled with moss.

  “Don’t worry about Semueld Askell,” she said. “Now that you’re awake, we’ll take care of everything. You’ll see. Have faith in me.”

  I don’t know why, but I didn’t believe her one bit. Her voice just seemed wrong, like she was speaking to a child. She wouldn’t be talking to me like that if she’d seen my beard. She didn’t understand that I was growing up.

  I noticed that the other people on the beach were peering at me in a strange way, like I was on TV . . . or in a hospital bed. “Why is Meb crying?” I asked.

  Aiby turned to look at Meb. Then, without answering me, she took a deep breath and said, “Now listen, Finley. You remember that you had a bad accident, right?”

  “Of course,” I said. “Wait — is Patches okay?!”

  Right on cue, my trusty friend trotted to Aiby’s side. But just like her, Patches seemed to be terribly far away.

  “Oh, good. And my bike?” I asked.

  “We’ll fix it,” Aiby said. You could tell she wanted to talk about something else, but she hesitated.

  “Do you want to explain to me once and for all what the situation is?” I asked. “A moment ago, I thought I was dead.”

  Aiby smiled. “Well, you know . . . the accident you were in would have killed pretty much anyone.”

  “You underestimate me, Aiby,” I said. “You always do.”

  “Really?” she asked. “Then I’ll ask you again: did you read the description of the Sherwood Compass?”

  A knot grew in my stomach. “Yes. So?”

  Aiby tilted her head. “Then you remember it all?” she asked.

  I hesitated.

  She crossed her arms. “Like when it said to be very careful with the tip of the weather vane?” she asked. “And to make absolutely certain it didn’t cut anyone?”

  I thought for less than a second. “No,” I admitted.

  Aiby grunted. “Of course not. Otherwise, you would’ve known that the tip of the weather vane was coated with the Lifeblood of the Forest. That’s what gives it the power of divination.”

  “Go on,” I whispered, visualizing the scrape I’d gotten from the vane.

  “If you’re cut by the point,” she added, “then the Lifeblood of the Forest is . . . mixed with yours.”

  I felt numb panic set in. “So what does that mean?” I asked.

  Aiby hesitated. “It means . . . you are now a Green Man.”

  “Huh?” I asked. “What do you mean I’m a Green Man?”

  I thought about all the discomfort I’d felt recently. When I was using the Sherwood Compass, the fatigue and stiffness while biking, my dirty and slightly green hands . . .

  I tried to look at myself and realized I couldn’t. I was completely paralyzed. I could see only a little of what was in front of me.

  “To be honest with you, Finley,” Aiby murmured, “the Lifeblood of the Forest saved your life . . . by turning you into a tree.”

  It took a while to think of a response. “And now what should I do?” I said. I wagged my little branches in frustration.

  Aiby laughed at my gesture. Then she bit her lip and nodded at the others. They moved closer.

  “Hey, Doug,” I said. “Did you take my photo already?”

  “You bet.”

  “How do I look?” I asked.

  “Honestly?” he said. “Kind of awesome.”

  I looked at Aiby’s dad. “Mr. Lily, it’s nice to see you’re up and about again,” I said. “So what’s the plan?”

  He looked at Aiby, and she spoke to me instead. “Our idea is to . . . well, you see, the process of transforming into a Green Man occurred at the very moment when you had the accident. The adrenaline in your body reacted with the sap in your blood, and —”

  “Listen, Aiby,” I interrupted. “I know your plan will be perfect, but I don’t think I can handle hearing an explanation right now.”

  “And the process keeps going,” Mr. Lily added. I saw he was holding himself up by Meb’s shoulder. “So it is possible that, at any moment, you’ll no longer be able to see, speak, or even hear us anymore.”

  “Great,” I said.

  Meb wailed. She was taking this harder than I was. “Hey Meb, I gotta ask,” I said. “What kind of tree am I?”

  “You look like an oak tree,” Meb said between sniffles. “But your, um . . . your trunk is completely white.”

  “Wow. Not bad, huh?” I said.

  Meb laughed. Then she started to cry again.

  Aiby placed her palm on my roots. “There is only one thing we can try to do to stop the process and reverse it. I need to inject you with a golden needle filled with the Water of Dreams.”

  “Dream water, huh,” I said. “What’s that do?”

  “It’s a distilled, crystalline water. It’s very rare and extremely valuable. And it is capable of purifying almost anything. I believe it . . . well, it might cancel the effect of the sap and return you to normal.”

  I scanned their faces, one by one. They all seemed worried. “And why do you say might?”

  “The Water of Dreams is highly unstable,” Mr. Lily said. “It works on the subconscious through one’s dreams, and allows for miraculous healing if pleasant dreams are had.” He bit his lip. “But if the dreams are bad, or unclear, it doesn’t have any effect.”

  “So, what you’re saying is that it’s all up to me if it works or not?”

  Aiby touched my trunk. “To go back, you need to want to go back. That’s all. You have to think of someone or something that is important to you. Think of a happy moment in your life, and how your body felt and looked at that time. You have to visualize it, and it must be from before the point when you scraped yourself with the compass. If you dream clearly of that moment, then the Water of Dreams will allow you to return to that form.”

  “Okay,” I replied. “That sounds easy enough.”

  Aiby shook her head. “It’s not easy,” she said. “No one k
nows how to control their dreams.”

  “You’re wrong,” I said. “Come on, let’s do this.”

  Aiby hesitated. “Are you sure?”

  “Do I have any alternatives?” I asked.

  Mr. Lily turned to Meb. She produced a giant, golden syringe from her bag. It looked more like a fencer’s foil than a medical tool.

  “No way!” I screamed. “I’d rather stay a tree than let you stab me with that thing!”

  “Finley!” Doug scolded. “Don’t be such a baby.”

  “I’ve always hated needles!” I cried. “You know that.”

  “But you’re a tree!” he said.

  “So?” I said. “Why don’t you go turn yourself into a tree and then maybe you can tell me it’s no big deal to get stabbed by that thing!”

  A cold wind blew in from the sea, ruffling my leaves. A seagull landed on one of my branches. I eyed it warily.

  “Okay, fine,” I said. “Let’s just get on with the stabbing, Meb.”

  Meb knelt in front of me. Carefully, she injected me with the Water of Dreams just above the roots. I felt a tingling sensation — and then nothing.

  “You didn’t rub it with a cotton ball first,” I said. “What if I get an infection or something?”

  She laughed. Then she looked at me strangely and said, “Don’t make jokes, Finley.”

  “So now what?” I asked.

  “Now you dream,” whispered Aiby’s father. And I realized that it was no longer morning, but nearing dusk. “We’ll leave you alone now, because the Water of Dreams only works in solitude. We’ll come back tomorrow at dawn. And everything will be all right, Finley.”

  What about my parents? I thought.

  Seemingly reading my mind, Doug said, “Don’t worry about Mom and Dad. I’ll come up with an excuse for you.”

  Doug took a few steps back, then turned to help Meb guide Mr. Lily to the car. Aiby, however, remained on the beach. She said nothing for a long time, watching the waves wash over her feet. Eventually, she hugged me and pressed her face against my white bark.