“Can we skim right now to review?” Zac asked with a hand raised.

  “Sure,” Mr. Zimmerman said. “Go ahead and speed-read until the announcements conclude.”

  Nate had forgotten about his history reading. It had seemed like the kind of assignment he could catch up on later. But he had a stick of Peak Performance gum in his pocket. He knew the magical gum optimized his skill and endurance. Could it speed up his reading? He had never used it that way.

  Nate unwrapped the gum and started chewing. As usual, a sense of high alertness came over him. He opened his textbook and began hastily absorbing facts about the cradle of civilization. Never had he read so swiftly, and never had the text felt so plain.

  When Mrs. Jackson started giving announcements, Nate continued to read. Multitasking was no problem, so as she spoke, he memorized names like “Tigris” and “Euphrates.”

  “Boys and girls, you will be happy to learn that we have organized a surprise field trip for the entire student body. On Thursday, we will attend the Dreams and Screams International Carnival.”

  The class reacted enthusiastically to the news.

  Zac turned around to face Nate. “My video may have been a little too good.”

  The principal went on about permission slips going home today and needing to be back by Thursday morning. Nate could no longer cram information about Sumerians. Why was the whole school suddenly going to the carnival? That seemed like an end-of-year event. It was too much like his dream. Mr. Zimmerman started handing out permission slips as the announcements ended.

  “Hey, Zac, have you had weird dreams lately?” Nate asked.

  “I hardly ever dream,” Zac said. “At least I don’t remember them when I wake up. How come? Are you having nightmares?”

  “Yeah,” Nate said.

  Mr. Zimmerman finished handing out permission slips. “With that out of the way, please close your textbooks and clear them from your desks. It’s time for the first of many pop quizzes.”

  Nate smiled, still chewing his gum, confident that the facts of the chapter were present in his mind, almost as if he had downloaded them. When he received the quiz, the answers felt obvious. Nate tried not to write too quickly.

  *****

  After school, Nate biked straight to the candy shop. At lunch, John Dart had recommended they meet there. Nate had heard odd rumors throughout the day. Nicole Ghysels had found department-store mannequins crowding her garage this morning. Noah Maldonado reported seeing three slot machines in the general store. Nate even heard a rumor that somebody’s little sister had seen a unicorn.

  Nate parked his bike out front, entered the shop, and went straight to the back. He found Lindy at a desk copying a diagram of a human cell out of a textbook. John Dart hunched beside Mr. Stott at a worktable. Mr. Stott was examining an old stirrup through a magnifying glass, carefully poking the leather with a scalpel. A bleached, curved horse rib rested nearby.

  “Is that from the saddle?” Nate asked.

  “I grabbed a couple of samples after lunch,” John said. “The skeleton was right where you described.”

  Nate also noticed a few overripe bananas on the worktable. “Are those bananas from this morning?”

  “I ate one,” John said. “It tasted fine.”

  “These objects all appear perfectly authentic,” Mr. Stott said, backing away from the worktable to look at Nate. “You saw a horse skeleton like that in a dream last night?”

  “Identical,” Nate said. “Same dried-out saddle, same horse bones.”

  Mr. Stott nodded. “That fits my working theory.”

  “Wait,” Lindy said, looking up from her work. “That horse bone came out of a dream?”

  Mr. Stott glanced at John Dart then back to Lindy. “This has to do with the carnival. I don’t want you involved with that place.”

  “Dad, at some point you have to trust me to live my life, or I’ll never have one,” Lindy said. “I’m on your side. I can handle danger.”

  “You’ll get to live your life,” Mr. Stott said. “I just want you to have the chance to grow up first. We need privacy for this conversation.”

  Lindy rolled her eyes, picked up her textbook, and headed up to the apartment above the candy shop.

  John drummed his fingers on the worktable. “We can’t keep her in the dark forever.”

  “Of course not,” Mr. Stott said. “But we also don’t want her drawn into that carnival. She’ll have chances to prove herself against threats that don’t involve members of her family.”

  Summer and Trevor entered. “We saw the skeleton,” Trevor announced.

  “Pigeon might still be back there,” Summer said. “He was examining it closely.”

  “Have either of you noticed objects from your dreams physically manifesting?” Mr. Stott asked.

  “I dreamed last night that a school bus picked me up and unexpectedly took me to the carnival,” Summer said. “That mechanical elephant was chasing me around. It was stressful, but nothing from my dream has appeared at the creek.”

  “Part of your dream may come true soon,” Trevor said. “We’re taking a field trip to the carnival on Thursday. I bet we’ll take buses.”

  “The entire school?” Mr. Stott asked.

  “It was announced today,” John Dart said.

  “Was this planned from the start of the year?” Mr. Stott asked.

  “The first I heard about it was during the morning announcements,” Nate said.

  Mr. Stott looked to John. “Tell them what you have noticed.”

  “Carnival attendance has only increased since Saturday,” John said. “I believe the carnival is exerting a powerful draw that goes beyond good advertising and positive word of mouth. The appearance of anomalies around town has increased as well.”

  Pigeon pounded into the room, his cheeks flushed. “That skeleton is bizarre,” he said. “Perfectly intact, except a rib had broken off. And one of the stirrups is missing from the saddle.”

  Trevor pointed at the objects on the worktable.

  “Oh,” Pigeon said.

  “You’re right about the horse skeleton,” John said. “It’s in strangely good condition.”

  “This rib is actual bone,” Mr. Stott said. “Not an imitation. The leather saddle is genuine as well.”

  “That has held true for the other anomalies,” John said. “Actual animals on the loose. Authentic oddities like the appearance of slot machines and the stagecoach. That enormous bowling ball at Diablo View was coated with plastic resin consistent with regulation balls.”

  “Why did I see the horse skeleton in my dream last night?” Nate asked. “How did a duplicate end up in the creek?”

  “We are confident there is a link,” Mr. Stott said. “I believe the anomalies are relics from dreams.”

  “Meaning what?” Pigeon asked.

  “Certain objects are somehow crossing over from dreams into reality,” John said.

  “Our dreams are coming true?” Summer exclaimed.

  “That statement is too broad,” Mr. Stott clarified. “Certain objects are leaking from your dreams into the physical world.”

  “Can that happen?” Pigeon asked.

  “Many dimensions adjoin our reality,” Mr. Stott said. “The Mirror Realm is one. The Dreamworld is another.”

  “You mean we go to an actual place when we dream?” Summer asked.

  “Your mind accesses a dimension of ideas, images, and symbols,” Mr. Stott said. “Vivid dreams can be nearly indistinguishable from our waking reality.”

  “But how can something jump from our minds into the real world?” Pigeon asked.

  “It happens all the time,” Mr. Stott said. “An architect imagines and designs a building, and then a construction team helps him execute the blueprint. Consider anyone who mentally conceives a plan, then brings it to pass, and you have examples.”

  “It takes a lot of work for a design to become a building,” Nate said. “You can’t wish a building into existence overnight.”

  Mr. Stott held up a finger. “It always requires work. But think about a song. A person with the right talent could sing it into existence as they create it. A lot of magic works that way. When I want to produce a certain type of candy, I first imagine it, then I use my intentions and skill to conjure the treat. An Ironhide would have no potency if I merely combined ingredients.”

  “So magic can make something out of nothing,” Trevor said.

  “Ideas have substance,” Mr. Stott said. “Something is present after you have an idea that was not present before you had it. And this doesn’t only work for magic. The more you learn, the more you will discover that imagination and intention are the real currency in this universe. We have plenty of matter, endless space, and abundant energy. The power lies in imagining what can be done with those ingredients, and in using your willpower to bring the vision into reality.”

  “However it works, you’re telling us that objects from dreams are materializing around us,” Pigeon said. “That kind of magic could do anything.”

  “The potential is staggering,” Mr. Stott agreed.

  “Do you know magic like this?” Summer asked.

  “In small ways, perhaps,” Mr. Stott said. “Nothing to rival what we are witnessing here.”

  “Not even Mozag can do such things,” John said.

  “What is Camilla trying to accomplish with her carnival?” Nate asked.

  “That is what we must figure out,” Mr. Stott said. “Camilla White has yet to be spotted in the carnival or anywhere near Colson. We have no clues about her objectives.”

  “Have you noticed the signs outside the entrance?” John asked. “One of them reads, ‘All dreams sparked by this experience become the property of the Dreams and Screams International Carnival.’ Let that sink in.”

  “I thought that was a joke,” Nate said.

  “I expect they rely on that reaction,” Mr. Stott said.

  “Why do they want our dreams?” Trevor asked.

  “Maybe if we dream of treasure or other valuables, they can collect that stuff,” Nate guessed. “Then they throw out the things they don’t want, like horse bones.”

  Mr. Stott stroked his beard pensively. “I’m not sure what those who run the carnival wish to accomplish. See if you can confirm that Camilla is running the operation—we need more than the word of an animatronic ram. Then try to figure out what she is after.”

  “The friend we made, Edward, warned us not to fall asleep inside the carnival,” Summer said.

  “Who sleeps at a carnival?” Pigeon asked. “There’s too much to do.”

  “His warning would make sense given our suspicions about dreams,” John said. “Maybe the effects are exaggerated if you sleep inside the lair.”

  “Some people have to sleep there,” Nate said. “Don’t a lot of workers travel with the carnival?”

  “Good point,” Pigeon said.

  “Staying awake at the fairgrounds sounds like sage advice,” Mr. Stott said. “Be wary of anyone you meet, including your friend Edward. Sometimes enemies put on friendly faces, particularly if they hope to lure kids into their service.”

  “Edward is meeting us tomorrow to share secret ways inside the park,” Nate said.

  “We’re supposed to help Zac and Benji film tomorrow,” Trevor said. “How will that work?”

  Nate shrugged. “Either we share our secrets with Zac, or some of us help him while others investigate with Edward.”

  “Confiding in Zac could be dangerous,” Pigeon said. “Being famous doesn’t make him trustworthy. Besides, he has connections high up in the carnival.”

  “Those connections could be useful if he helps us,” Summer pointed out.

  “We’ll have to improvise as we go,” Nate said.

  “I recommend you kids avoid the carnival today,” Mr. Stott said. “John is trying to procure some items that could help counter dream magic.”

  “The Council sees this carnival as a major threat,” John said. “They are willing to commit significant resources to investigating it. Let me see what assistance I can gather. I’ll meet with you kids tomorrow at lunchtime. It’s lasagna day.”

  Nate looked at the others. “Makes sense to me. Might be smart to let my family see me at home for a change.”

  “Outside magic won’t work inside the carnival,” Summer reminded everyone.

  “Which is a problem,” John said. “At the very least, we’ll provide tools you can use outside the carnival. At best, we’ll figure out how to smuggle in some items.”

  “In the meantime, I made a concoction that should help suppress your dreams,” Mr. Stott said. He passed out little vials of dark blue liquid. “It doesn’t taste very good, but taken before you fall sleep, this solution should help you do the opposite of what the Dreams and Screams International Carnival wants. It should help you dream small.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Pigeon said, accepting a vial.

  “I’m still toying with the formula, so future batches will taste better,” Mr. Stott said. “This concoction would have a minimal effect on adults but should work fairly well on you kids. I’ll be interested to hear how you sleep after trying it.”

  “Great,” Trevor said. “We’re the guinea pigs testing new magical potions.”

  “I’ve already run tests of my own,” Mr. Stott assured him. “The formulation shouldn’t be hazardous. My main question is how well it works.”

  “I’ll give it a try,” Nate said, holding up a vial to study the viscous liquid. “I don’t need any more dreams where clowns try to wrestle me into a straitjacket.”

  Trevor frowned. “Maybe I should drink two.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jumping

  Summer coasted to a stop in an upscale neighborhood on the far side of Colson, then wheeled her bike between two azalea bushes at the corner of Zac’s property. He lived in a fancy house with a spacious, landscaped yard. Soft lights marked the walkway to the door and highlighted certain trees and bushes.

  After the discussion at the candy shop, Summer had decided she would sneak out tonight. Back home, she made a figure of pillows and wadded blankets to create the illusion she was in bed. The ride to Zac’s address had taken twenty minutes, so it was just after ten. About half the windows of the large house were still lit.

  Summer took off her shoes and set them by the bike, then removed a Moon Rock from her pocket. Nate and the others might not love the idea, but since when did decisions have to be unanimous? By not asking for group consent, she had avoided the risk of getting her plan vetoed.

  Zac had been a good friend to them. It would be hard to conduct effective investigations at the carnival with Zac still in the dark. Besides, it could be dangerous for him to have no warning about what was really going on. Instead of hiding the truth from Zac, Summer felt confident it would be better to gain his help.

  She put the sugary crystal into her mouth and worked it to the side with her tongue. Her body tingled as if her blood had started fizzing with carbonation. A small hop carried her over a flower bed. She drifted to a spot in the middle of the front lawn, landing lightly. The damp grass soaked through her socks; it must have been watered recently.

  Headlights announced a car coming down the street. Feeling conspicuous, she stood casually, and the car went by, pulling into a driveway a few houses down. Another hop took her to the corner of the house, where she paused.

  She had no idea which room belonged to Zac. Thanks to his videos, she knew what his bedroom looked like on the inside, along with the kitchen and some other rooms in the house, but she didn’t know the complete floor plan. She knew he lived with his dad and his stepmom, a younger sister, and a small, fluffy, white dog named Trouble.

  The dog could be a problem. Summer didn’t want to get barked at and caught by Zac’s parents. Maybe she shouldn’t have come in person. Was this overly dramatic? She could have simply called Zac and arranged a meeting.

  But surprising him would have more flair, as long as she could pull it off. She had to admit, part of her wanted to impress Zac.

  Summer jumped to the roof, landing softly on the ceramic tiles with her damp socks and reduced-gravity weight. Accustomed to Moon Rock physics through considerable practice, she glided to the side of the roof so she would be less visible from the street. As she reconnoitered, Summer decided that the room with the big balcony in the back was probably the main bedroom where the parents slept. Creeping along like a cat burglar, she approached a dormer and pressed her face against a windowpane to view a dim office illuminated by ambient light from the hall.

  Floating along with gentle steps, her toes barely touching the roof tiles, Summer headed back toward the front of the house. She found a lighted window that showed a boy’s orderly bedroom. Zac sat in front of a big TV playing a vintage Mario game. He did not appear to be filming himself.

  Summer knocked gently on the glass.

  Zac jumped and whirled, squinting at the window. He apparently could not see well into the darkness from his bright room.

  Summer leaned closer to the glass and waved.

  Eyes wide, Zac crossed to the window. Once he got a good look at Summer, he went and shut his door, then came back and opened the window.

  “Summer, are you sleepwalking?” he asked. “What are you doing on my roof?”

  “I wanted to surprise you,” Summer said.

  “Congratulations,” Zac said. “Mission accomplished. If I were a few years older, I probably would have dropped dead from a heart attack. Want to come in?”