“Come on, Farmer, please.” I had no time to worry about the final Gift right then.

  “All right, boy. I say, you have grown up considerably since that day under the door in the woods. Grown up, indeed.”

  He pushed his cupped hands out from his lap until they were directly in front of me. Then he revealed what was lying within. A piece of iron, shaped like a crescent moon with an open crevice going down the middle. It looked like an open pea pod made out of cold metal, or a canoe built by an ancient civilization. Four oval objects were placed along the curved opening running down its length.

  They were four red beans.

  “You must eat each one,” Farmer said, “all together. I think you will find them quite tasty.”

  “What are they? What do they taste like?”

  “I believe they are similar to … cooked peas, if I'm not mistaken.”

  My face turned the color of those demonic spheres of foul flavor called peas that my mom insisted on cooking at least once a week.

  “Peas?”

  Farmer laughed. He seemed very cheerful for the circumstances.

  “I'm only teasing you, Jimmy. Your friend, the one called Joseph, told me you had a certain dislike for that cuisine. Do not worry, it has no taste, just like the other Gifts you have partaken. As for what the Gift can do, eat and I will tell. Surely you trust me by now?”

  I only nodded, and then reached down and picked up the four beans. They were heavier than they appeared, their sports-car-red surface shiny and slippery. I almost dropped them. I allowed them to fall into the cup of my palm, then rattled them, looking up at Farmer with a sarcastic raising of my eyebrows.

  “I don't know, do I trust you? If you spent too much time with Joseph, this is probably some practical joke food that tastes like dog-doo and then you'll give me the real Gift after I've puked all over the sand.”

  Farmer smiled and assured me that was not the case.

  I popped the beans into my mouth and chewed the tasteless morsels. They were the texture and consistency of jelly-beans, without the sweet flavor. I finished and swallowed with a big gulp, then looked at Farmer expectantly.

  “Well?”

  “Ah yes, the Third Gift. The only thing that will amaze you more than this Gift is the promise I make to you that the Fourth Gift is more powerful.”

  “Really? What is this one called?”

  “It is called the …” He paused. I waited.

  Farmer leaned in for effect, his shaggy-bearded face only inches from mine.

  “The Anything.”

  “Wow, that does sound impressive,” I said. “The Anything? What … what could that possibly mean?”

  Farmer stood up.

  “You know the drill. Come, follow me.”

  We walked, or stumbled up the dune that he had flown over to greet me when I'd first arrived. When we crested the sandy wall, I was shocked to see a massive pile of enormous granite boulders, stacked as high as a two-story building, and wider than a city bus. We walked up to its very edge, and I scanned the mammoth heap of stone.

  “What is this?”

  “Jimmy, raise your right arm.”

  I looked at him in disbelief. “Are you serious? I think I've learned that point already—that the Gifts are as easy as raising your arm.”

  He was not smiling.

  “I am very serious. If you cannot be trusted to obey such a simple thing, how can we rely on you to do what it takes to save an entire world? Sometimes we are asked to do things for reasons we do not fully understand.”

  Humbled, I did as he asked.

  “Now, the other arm. Please, raise it.”

  I did.

  “Now, listen with great care. This Gift will take much discipline and foresight. You cannot take it lightly. You see, the name of this Gift explains it quite well. My boy, you can literally do anything.”

  I said nothing, trying to understand.

  “There are only two conditions,” he continued. “First, it cannot be used to maim, alter, or kill other living beings, even against the most malicious of enemies. You will regret that some day, I assure you.”

  “What … what do you mean, I can do anything?”

  “I mean what I say; I say what I mean. Just as you have lifted your arms to the sky with nothing but thought, you can now do anything. If your mind can think it, the Gift can fulfill it. It is the Anything.”

  “But … how can that be? It seems too good to be true, too unbelievable. I'm having a hard time comprehending what you're talking about when you say I can do anything.”

  Farmer pointed to the stack of boulders, towering over us.

  “I will help you learn how it works, of course. But then I must initiate the second condition, which is where the discipline I spoke of comes into play. Look at these rocks.”

  I did as he asked, and looked them up and down.

  “I want you to pile these boulders, one on top of another in a single vertical line.”

  Then I said the only word one can say in such a situation: “What?”

  “Come, now. You heard me. Stack them over there.” He pointed to a flat spot to the right of where we stood. “With the Second Gift, you did not succeed the first time I tested you. I want you to pause and think, now, and succeed on your initial try. I will be over here.” He walked back to the top of the dune and sat down in his pretend chair.

  I took a couple of steps back, and felt myself sweating. It still made no sense to me, none whatsoever. Anything? What did that mean?

  No, I told myself. Get a hold of things, Jimmy. You're not the kid who opened the door in the woods. Quit being one. Farmer was showing his faith in you, his belief in you. Prove yourself.

  I looked at the rocks. I thought about the way my mind linked with the other Gifts, how my thoughts had guided the rebounding action of the Shield. The way they guided the direction and action of the Ice. It was no different with this new Gift—it couldn't be.

  With a renewed sense of confidence, I called upon the Anything.

  I pictured what Farmer had asked of me—a line of rocks, one on top of the other, starting with one and then shooting toward the sky in an impossible, balanced tower of stone. And then it started.

  A great wind came from all directions, and the boulders began to dance.

  The wind had the power of ancient gods it seemed, and moved the boulders like grains of sand caught in a whirlpool.

  Rocks were shooting into the sky, everywhere, moving and revolving and taking position. A particularly large one lifted into the air, and floated over to the spot where I had imagined the tower and settled to the ground. Another rock came over and landed on top of the first one. By now all the boulders were floating in the air above us, joining together in a bizarre waltz of gravity-defying lumps of stone. One by one, they moved to the ever-lengthening tower of rocks, each settling on top of the one that preceded it.

  It grew like Jack's beanstalk, higher and higher, no thicker than one boulder in any place. By the time the last rock had disappeared high above, it was the tallest structure I had ever seen.

  “Okay, now,” Farmer shouted, “Obliterate them all into fine sand, and blow them into the passing winds, never to be seen again.”

  I looked up, straining my neck in an attempt to see the top, but it was impossible.

  “All right,” I said.

  With a flicker of thought, with a conjured image in my head, I did exactly what he instructed. The rocks exploded with a loud puff into a mist of fine sand, and were whisked away by the wind, a thick cloud of red quickly passing into oblivion.

  I turned and faced Farmer, a huge smile on my face.

  “Don't get too excited,” he said, standing and walking over to where I stood. “Do not forget I have not told you everything.”

  “You mean the second condition?”

  He nodded.

  “What is it?”

  He paused, making sure I understood that he was about to say something very important. Then:

  “From this second on, you can only use the Anything four times.”

  “Four times,” Farmer continued, “and it is gone forever. You will have to choose wisely.”

  Still overwhelmed by the sheer amount of newness regarding this Gift, I sat down on the sand, ignoring how dirty it was. Farmer had been right when he said that it would be different from the Ice and Shield. I could never have imagined it, or even dared to dream it. And the Fourth Gift was more powerful?

  But I could only use the Anything four times. That made me nervous. How would I know when to call upon it, when it was important enough? Farmer sensed my questions.

  “You have many trials still ahead—far more than four, I am afraid. You have grown and learned so much, Jimmy—I have much confidence that you will choose the times wisely that you call upon the Anything. But remember this, my friend: you must save one for the very end of this conflict. No matter what happens, no matter what terrible thing may occur, you must not use the last chance of the Anything.”

  He paused for a moment, his shaggy face hairs waving in the hot breeze.

  “Therefore, choose how to use the first three with great caution.”

  The magnitude of the Gift was so fascinating, creeping to the forefront of my thoughts, that the worry of when to use it seemed secondary.

  “Are there any limits to what I can use it for?”

  “Well, I have already told you that it cannot be called upon to hurt or kill or even alter living beings. Not even the Shadow Ka. Other than that, its possibilities are endless. You could move a mountain, empty the oceans, turn your shoes into cheese. I don't recommend the latter—not much value.”

  He smiled, as if he were my grandpa telling me the best way to hook a worm.

  “I have one more question,” I said. I pointed to where the rocks had been. “What about the thing I just did, stacking then destroying the rocks? Would that have been one usage or two?”

  “Oh, it's not as complicated as it may seem. It is however your brain interprets it, I believe. In the case of the rocks, I would guess that would have counted as one time.”

  “You would guess?”

  “It's your mind that controls it, child of the Gifts. You will know.”

  He slapped me on the thigh.

  “Now, since nothing catastrophic has happened yet, perhaps we have time to discuss a few things.”

  He looked at me, his gaze needling into my eyes.

  “It is time to tell you about the Stompers.”

  His face grew long and a haunted look shadowed his eyes.

  “I am afraid they are entering your world even as we speak.”

  Farmer stood and paced in circles around me as he spoke for the next few minutes, hands clasped behind his dirty overalls.

  “When you blocked the Black Curtain, you merely delayed the inevitable, I am sorry to say. The world was already filled with thousands of Shadow Ka, far more than we had imagined, scattered throughout the earth like the pestilence they are. They had almost been ready to bring in the Stompers, but you prevented it from happening. At least for a time.

  “That Blocking has weakened considerably. I have sensed several Rippings in the Curtain in the last few days, and the Stompers are pouring through them at a frightening rate. It is only a matter of weeks, perhaps months, before they rip the Curtain at will and come forth with all their might and malice. That will be a terrible day, and we must hasten our efforts to endow you with the Fourth Gift.”

  Farmer had not really said many words yet, but the amount of information contained within them was too much to compute. I didn't know what to ask first, but I had to say something.

  “You mean … are you telling me that there are already Stompers on the earth?”

  “Yes. Not many, not a fraction of what is coming, but yes, they have arrived.”

  “Okay, then, I think I am finally ready to know what they are.”

  “You think you are ready, but I have my doubts. I have worried about this day for a long time. For a very long time.”

  “Please, Farmer, tell me.”

  He put his hands into his denim pockets and let out a sigh.

  “All right, Jimmy. I will tell you.” Another pause. “The Stompers are your worst nightmares.”

  Frustration filled me. “I know, I know—that is all I hear about them! They are scary, they are horrible, they are worse than anything I can imagine. Just tell me what they are, please!”

  Farmer looked disappointed in me, but then his expression transformed into a sad understanding.

  “No, Jimmy, you are not hearing my words. I am not speaking in metaphors—there is no time for that now.”

  “What … what do you mean?”

  “The Stompers are your worst nightmares.”

  My complete silence said everything I was feeling.

  “I know it is hard to comprehend. I have tried to warn you that our enemy is nothing like you expected. They have no visible substance to them, no tangible body to wage war against. Their evil Shadow Ka swoop in and prepare their next victims, frightening them, lulling them into a never-ending sleep that at first seems like an escape from the horrors that beset them. But then they are taken in their dreams to a place where the Stompers hold them forever.

  “There, they live the rest of their existence in a world of terror, a world of pain, a world where every one of their worst nightmares is manifested—except they can never wake up again. Their fear is food unto the Stompers. It is their sustenance, their well-being, their livelihood.”

  Farmer collapsed to the ground, putting his head into his hands.

  “Oh, Jimmy, it is a horrible, horrible thing.” He began to weep, something I had never seen him do before. No words came to me—I was in a state of complete and unbreakable shock, trying my best to understand something that seemed impossible.

  “You are our only hope, Jimmy—you are the first one in countless worlds to reach a point where you have a chance to defeat them, to save an entire world from their ruthless terror and hatred, however small that chance may be. And then, if you are successful …”

  He trailed off, looking into the distance.

  “No, we can only take one step at a time.” He stood back up and regained his composure.

  “I am sorry for becoming so emotional. I have just seen too many worlds fall to their evil, to their malice. So many good, wonderful beings, fallen under the Stompers’ spell. But you can save your people, Jimmy. That is why we must hurry.”

  He walked over to me and indicated that I should stand. I did so, and he motioned to the door.

  “You must go now, and find the Dream Warden.”

  “I think Joseph said something about … him, or her, or whatever.”

  “Yes, Joseph knows a little about the Warden. The Dream Warden is the only one who can put into play the final piece of the puzzle, the Fourth Gift. I cannot do it.”

  “Who is it? Where do I need to go?”

  Farmer walked to the door, and I followed him. We stopped directly in front of it.

  “I can only tell you that you must go to a place where there is no north, The Northless Point. There, in exactly three weeks from this moment, you will see a Ripping of the Black Curtain, one that we have planned just for you. The Rip will only stay open for fifty-six minutes, precisely.”

  “I have to go back into the Blackness?” I asked, dread filling me.

  “Yes, and it is vital that you find what is needed and make it back to the Rip within the fifty-six minutes, or you will be stuck there for quite some time. The lady in the white dress, the Lady of the Storm, is there, through the Blackness, waiting for you. Our Ripping will take you to a place near the gateway to her world.”

  Farmer rubbed his temples, as if to fend off a headache. “When you go into her world, there is something you must remember. A host of Shadow Ka will be waiting for you. Now, we both know they cannot hurt you, but they can do something even worse.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “The gateway inside the world of the Lady of the Storm is very fragile, as you will see when you get there. The Ka know you must go to that world, and they will be waiting, so that they can destroy the gateway after you have arrived. If this happens, you will be stuck there, in that world of storms, forever.”

  “Forever?”

  “Yes, forever. But don't worry, I think you will be okay, because of your Shield—just not in the way you expect.”

  “Huh?” I asked, sounding like the dumbest kid in a class on how to count to one.

  “I've told you before that you have not yet realized the extent of the Shield's powers, and it will have to help you in a new way when you go to the world of the Lady of the Storm. I will get back to that if we have time, but let's move on.

  “Once you reach the Lady, she will reveal unto you what needs to happen in order for you to find the Dream Warden, who will in turn reveal to you how to obtain the final Gift. If you do not make it to this place, all will be for naught.

  “Everything depends on the Dream Warden. Everything.” As he said these last words, I noticed that it was getting darker, rapidly. I looked to the west, or the direction I thought was west, where the sun had been dipping to the horizon the last time I noticed.

  A darkness was coming at us. I felt the blood drain from my face, and Farmer saw my skin turn pale. He followed my gaze.

  A wall of black, writhing goo was fast approaching. It was ten stories tall and hundreds of feet wide, rolling along the ground toward us like a dust storm, picking up speed. It looked exactly like the substance that had chased me out of the place under the door in the woods back home.

  “We should have known it was too good to be true,” Farmer said. “Our enemies are never far away in these places. Quickly, now, through the door you go.”

  My questions dissipating like smoke in a stiff wind in light of the coming wall of death, I didn't argue. I pushed on the handle of the door.