Would any of his friends have taken the deal? What if they were all inside of Dreamland waiting for him? No, Nate would never go for it. Trevor doubted Summer or Pigeon would either. The guy had to be called the Swindler for a reason.

  “Hello?” Trevor tried experimentally.

  The surrounding emptiness swallowed the word, making it feel insignificant. What was he supposed to do now? He could lay down on the ground. What if one of those silver globs crept up to him? They looked like they could be dormant predators, ameboid monstrosities that absorbed their prey.

  Could he walk out of this endless wasteland? Or would he walk forever?

  The Swindler had called this place limbo. Maybe the secret was finding a bar he could shimmy under. If he heard steel drums playing, he decided he would head in that direction.

  Suddenly Sandra appeared in front of him, as if she had removed an invisibility cloak. Summer and Pigeon were with her.

  “Whoa,” Trevor said. “Where did you guys come from?”

  “Other parts of limbo,” Pigeon said.

  “The Swindler deliberately mislabeled this place as limbo,” Sandra corrected. “But you’re not trapped here unless you believe him. This is simply undeveloped dreamspace. Like a computer disk with no programming on it.”

  “Except those silver blobs,” Trevor said.

  “Those are where we write the programs,” Sandra said. “Great job denying the Swindler, Trevor. You stayed outside his main trap.”

  Trevor pumped a fist. “I knew it.” He glanced at Summer. “I was doubting a little though.”

  “May I give you a friendship bracelet?” Sandra asked, holding one up. “It will help us remain linked within the dreamscape.”

  “Sure,” Trevor said, taking a step toward her and holding out his wrist.

  “We already have ours,” Summer said.

  Sandra tied on the bracelet. “Now I’m even more firmly anchored in this dreamspace. We have a lot to do. Do you mind if I take us to Nate?”

  “Let’s go!” Trevor said.

  A slight shimmer appeared in the air. Sandra motioned for the others to follow and stepped into it, vanishing. Summer and Pigeon went next, then Trevor crossed through. No physical sensation accompanied the act, but he abruptly emerged into a different beige wasteland with a new arrangement of globs.

  A large military tank was coming toward them, treads grinding noisily, the big cannon in front pointing in their direction. Trevor also noticed a brown couch, a fully decorated Christmas tree, and a few sports cars, including a sick version of the Batmobile.

  The tank rumbled to a halt, the hatch on top swung open, and Nate emerged with a huge grin on his face. “You’re all here!”

  “They each denied the Swindler,” Sandra reported. “Finding them was easy. You’ve been busy, Nate.”

  “I’m experimenting,” he said, emerging from the tank with a sword in his hand. “I don’t have to understand how a car works. Or even a tank. I just imagine them and something fills in the blanks.”

  “Imagination can be very powerful,” Sandra said. “Especially here.”

  “You made this stuff?” Trevor asked.

  “Out of the dream batter,” Nate said, gesturing to a nearby silver blob. “I’m so glad you guys are all right.”

  “That depends how you define ‘all right,’” Pigeon said. “Considering we’re trapped in some weird dream landscape.”

  “Was Growler full of sleeping gas?” Summer asked. “It’s all kind of fuzzy.”

  “Yeah,” Nate said. “The skeleton key worked. We made it to the sleepers. There were lots of them.”

  “Do you remember seeing Camilla there?” Trevor asked.

  “Yes, right before I went down,” Nate said.

  “Wait,” Sandra said urgently. “Camilla was among the sleepers? Are you sure?”

  “Unless it was her twin,” Trevor said.

  Sandra furrowed her brow. “That is unexpected. Give me a moment.” She closed her eyes, a look of concentration on her face. After a moment, her eyelids flew open. “She’s part of this dreamspace.” Sandra shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “What do you mean?” Summer asked.

  “This place functions more like a prison than a dreamland,” Sandra said. “Camilla should be running this dreamspace, not falling victim to it. We should start with her—see what’s going on.”

  “Can we get to her?” Summer said.

  “Let me see,” Sandra said, closing her eyes again. “If she hasn’t deliberately walled herself off . . . Yes, here we go.” She opened her eyes. “Ready?”

  “Can we bring the tank?” Trevor asked.

  “It might send the wrong message,” Sandra said. “We can always make a new tank. You’ll find that winning battles in the dreamscape depends less on having the biggest gun, and more on having the stronger will.”

  A portion of the air nearby began to tremble. “Keep your guard up. We’re going into part of the Swindler’s Dreamland. A portion designated for Camilla. Her body is with the sleepers, but her mind is in here. I’m not sure what to expect. Stay close to me, in case we have to retreat.” Sandra stepped through the shimmer. Trevor entered after Nate.

  He emerged on a suburban street. The houses were of an older style than Trevor was used to seeing. The parked cars looked like they came from a period movie. Were they in the 1950s? Maybe the sixties? The mature maples along the street were ablaze with bright reds, oranges, and yellows. Not many leaves had fallen.

  “We’re in Burlington, Vermont,” Sandra announced. “A dream version of the place, obviously.”

  “This feels so real,” Nate said. He slapped his cheek. “I could be awake.”

  “It’s highly realistic,” Sandra said. “I’m not sure I could fly in this particular dreamspace. We’re visitors here, and Camilla’s control over the physics is masterfully secure.”

  “Camilla made this place out of the silver blobs?” Trevor asked, impressed.

  Sandra nodded. “She created this place within the dreamspace the Swindler allotted to her. She’s a master dreamcaster.”

  “Where is she?” Summer asked.

  Sandra pointed at the nearest house. Modest in size, it had colonial architecture with blue walls and white framing around the windows. A white picket fence enclosed the tidy front yard.

  Sandra led them through the gate and up to the front porch. Trevor came last, closing the gate. The wood felt real, the paint slightly peeling in places. He bent down and brushed his palm over the grass. Camilla had been meticulous in her details.

  Sandra knocked on the front door. A moment later, a man answered. Trevor started. He was a younger version of the Swindler, but without the straw hat, and wearing a sweater vest over a white shirt. “How can I help you?”

  “We’re here to see Camilla,” Sandra said.

  “Some of her friends from school, are you?” the man said. “Well, any friend of Camilla’s is welcome. She’s playing out back. I’m her father, Carl.” He shook hands with Sandra. “Come inside.”

  Carl stepped away from the door, and they entered a clean, conservatively decorated home. He escorted them to a back door. “She has about an hour before dinner,” he said. “Have fun.”

  The backyard had a large wooden deck. Beyond it spread a spacious lawn, with a circular, above-ground pool taking up much of one side. At the back of the lawn perched a solidly constructed tree fort with two swings beneath it. A tire swing hung from a high, thick limb on a neighboring tree.

  A few paces from the tree house swings, three kids huddled around a game of marbles. They had drawn a circle in the dirt and were using shooters to knock smaller marbles out of the ring. The youngest looked to be about Trevor’s age. She had auburn hair with a slight curl and was quite pretty. Her older sister looked like a teenage version of Lindy. The oldest of the three was recognizable as a young Jonas White.

  The game of marbles broke up as the kids noticed the newcomers.

  “Hey, guys,” Jonas said in friendly tones. “Have we met?”

  “We’re friends of Camilla’s,” Sandra explained. “We need to talk with her.”

  Camilla looked the least excited to see them. “About what?”

  “It’s important,” Sandra said. “It might be best if we talk in private.”

  “Is this about school?” Camilla asked.

  “Let’s go with that,” Sandra said.

  “Could we have a few minutes?” Camilla asked her older siblings.

  “Sure thing,” Jonas said.

  “Should we save the game?” Lindy asked, glancing at the marbles.

  “Yeah, we’ll finish later,” Camilla said.

  Trevor thought it was odd the way the older siblings were deferring to the youngest. Lindy and Jonas walked into the house.

  “I don’t usually have visitors from outside,” Camilla said, her intonation more mature, though she still looked like a kid. “What are you doing here?”

  “Your carnival is causing major problems,” Sandra said.

  Camilla gave a little nod. “I suspected your visit might have something to do with that.”

  “These four children have been imprisoned in sleep,” Sandra said. “Alongside hundreds of others.”

  Camilla nodded, tears glimmering in her eyes. “Including me.”

  “We were surprised to find you among the sleepers,” Sandra said.

  “Trevor and I talked to you at the carnival just a day ago,” Pigeon said.

  “Then we saw you in a glass container,” Trevor said.

  Camilla nodded. “My mother is impersonating me. She is skilled at that kind of magic.”

  “That wasn’t you inside the wagon?” Pigeon exclaimed.

  “No,” Camilla said.

  “How long ago did your mom take your place?” Trevor asked.

  Camilla scrunched her face. “Almost two years.”

  “And your father is the Swindler?” Nate asked.

  “Makes a girl proud, right?” Camilla said, shaking her head. “I’m not a fighter. I don’t do confrontations. Especially not with my parents. I can’t fix this.”

  “Other people can do the fighting,” Sandra said. “Tell me why you made this carnival.”

  “To help people realize their dreams,” Camilla said. “Individuals in my family have done a lot of evil in the world. I was trying to accomplish some good.”

  “How did your dream evolve into a prison?” Sandra asked.

  Camilla sighed. “In a word? Mutiny.”

  “What happened?” Sandra asked.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Camilla said. “It’s too painful. You have intruded upon my coping mechanism. It’s easier here. I can shut out the disappointment. Distract myself. This place is my painkiller.”

  “You recreated your childhood?” Sandra asked.

  Camilla laughed. “No. This is the childhood I wanted. The childhood I needed. It is my attempt to fix my life, beginning where it went wrong.”

  “You had a difficult life,” Sandra said.

  “My parents were magical criminals,” Camilla said. “They did their best to raise criminals. I guess you could say I was the white sheep of the family. My mother and father worked to stifle my creativity and destroy my integrity. I endured my upbringing without them breaking me, but it was a nightmare.”

  “They are doing their best to share that nightmare with the world,” Sandra said. “Through your carnival.”

  “I know,” Camilla said. “Even as I hide here in my counterfeit childhood, I can’t help checking in on what they are doing to my masterpiece, my greatest creation, my life’s work. I may be stuck here, but when I focus, they can’t stop me from seeing out. You are trying to stop them? Are you willing to fight?”

  “I’m a dreamwalker,” Sandra said. “I’m the best the Council managed to send against this threat. And these kids are experienced at resisting evil. They have been doing a remarkable job. Every one of them turned down the Swindler’s offer to enter his dreamspace.”

  Camilla lowered her gaze, shaking her head. “I sure didn’t.” She looked at Nate, Summer, Trevor, and Pigeon. “Good job, kids. I mean it. That shows great character.” She turned her attention back to Sandra. “I can’t help in the fight. It isn’t who I am. But I’m happy to give you information that could assist.”

  “What went wrong?” Sandra asked. “How did the mutiny happen?”

  “My parents fell on hard times,” Camilla said. “Too many of their plots unraveled. They lost credibility in the magical community and ended up penniless. My siblings and I surpassed them in almost every way. We were more powerful magicians, and we were having a bigger impact on the world. In my youth, our parents taught us to be merciless, and in return they got ruthlessness from Jonah and Belinda. Careful when you make a weapon; it may end up pointed at you. My parents wound up with nothing.”

  “You took them in,” Sandra said.

  “It seemed harmless,” Camilla said. “Mom and Dad were old and washed up. Out of options. They had used magic to slow the aging process, but not very well. I decided to let them assist at the carnival.”

  “That was kind of you,” Sandra said.

  Camilla shrugged. “I believe at first they were sincerely grateful. They had been so desperate. Literally homeless. No lair to protect them. Mom and Dad really tried to contribute for the first couple of years. My carnival provided shelter, and the work they performed helped them recover their confidence. Eventually they marshaled their strength, and I realized nothing had really changed. They weren’t reformed—they had just been too weak to wreak havoc.

  “I created the carnival to do good, but they warped it to do evil. When I tried to stop them, they imprisoned me. I was too heartbroken to fight back.”

  “How did this carnival gain so much strength?” Sandra asked. “Dreams are being manifested directly into reality inside the carnival and even around town.”

  Camilla hesitated, then said, “Before I started the carnival, I found the Dreamstone, quarried from the same vein of silica used to craft the original dreamcatcher. It was the quest of my lifetime. I didn’t win it by bloodshed or duplicity. I researched and I explored and eventually I succeeded.”

  Sandra gasped.

  Camilla nodded. “The talisman is real, and supremely powerful. Its capacity to transfer dreams into the waking world is the engine powering my carnival.”

  “The carnival your parents wrested from you,” Sandra said.

  “It’s difficult to define ownership of this carnival,” Camilla said. “The Dreamstone cannot be owned by an individual. Its power is shared by all. It truly belongs to everyone. If the dreamers knew that and believed it, they would be free.

  “My father is not a very impressive magician, but he is a truly gifted con man. By falsely claiming ownership of the Dreamstone, he has convinced people they have lost the power to awaken from this dreamspace. He tells them they chose this, insisting they have signed away their rights. Once they believe him, it becomes true.”

  “Can you wake up?” Sandra asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Camilla said. “I was crushed by my father’s betrayal and tired of fighting him, so I chose to enter his Dreamland. Even though I know it’s a trick, it feels like I have lost the power to wake myself up.”

  “It’s not true,” Sandra said. “If you made a choice you regret, you always retain the power to choose differently in the future, no matter what anyone claims.”

  Camilla nodded. “Intellectually, I know you’re right. Fear plays a part too.” Her voice got quiet. “Deep down, I’m terrified of my parents.”

  “That’s very self-aware,” Sandra said.

  Camilla looked around. “I’ve had time to reflect.”

  “Do you know where we can find the Dreamstone?” Sandra asked.

  “Yes,” Camilla said. “I’m deeply connected to it. I worked with it for years. I like to think we had an understanding. Father has hidden the Dreamstone away and has placed many safeguards around it. But my parents could never hide it from me. Not in the carnival I constructed.”

  “Where should we look?” Sandra asked.

  “There are two carnivals,” Camilla explained. “One exists in the dreamscape, the other in the waking world. The dreamscape carnival is much grander and more elaborate, and it grows much more quickly. But as Father adds sleepers, he is gaining power to pull the dreamscape carnival directly into physical reality.”

  “He is breaking the barrier between the dimensions,” Sandra said. “He could overwrite and destroy this physical world.”

  “Exactly,” Camilla said. “Unthinkable destruction. One of the properties that makes the Dreamstone so special is that it exists simultaneously in waking reality and the dreamscape. It is a physical object made of ethereal dreamstuff. And Father has hidden it in both places.”

  “So there is a tangible Dreamstone in the physical carnival, and an ethereal one in the dream carnival,” Pigeon summarized.

  “Yes,” Sandra said. “Like two halves of a whole, they must be brought together. And both halves are accessible, because the carnival is a crossroads.”

  “Yes,” Camilla said. “When anyone enters the carnival, they are already partway into the dreamspace. Certain dream principles apply. For example, most of the traps that appear deadly in the carnival simply move the victim into the dreamspace. Their physical body joins the sleepers.”

  “Wait,” Nate said. “Is that true for the sand around Dune Hunt?”

  “Yes,” Camilla said. “If you sink in the sand, you end up as a sleeper.”

  “Then Benji is alive!” Trevor exclaimed.